The Bostonian Abroad

Here I am again, living in the afterglow of yet another Red Sox World Series Victory, and this time, I have to say, it feels different. First, it feels great, don't get me wrong. I absolutely adore the knowledge that the Red Sox are, right now, the Champions of the World in Baseball. Wow! Amazing! Incredible! I'm so lucky to be alive at this point in history! Think of all the people who lived from the early 1900's, all the way to the end of the the century, who lived their entire lives without seeing even one win. My god! Having lived the first 34 years of my life in that suck town, I know how bad it was. The mentality was, "I'm from Boston, where being a sports fan takes courage because we lose so much and at such heart-rending times!" "Life sucks," was a fundamental way of seeing the world in those days. But now, as Strong Bad likes to say, "It's Over!!" So I feel blessed, grateful, and just plain euphoric about the state

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Everyone always says that Camden Yards is the most beautiful ball park in America. They rave about its design, its beauty, and its food is supposedly great - for a baseball park. Bearing this in mind, I was hoping they were all right about it, and that I would love it as they had. And, while the park is quite beautifully designed, the seats we had were amazing, and the food was pretty darned good, I have to say, I came away from my three days there with a negative appraisal. The problem wasn't the park, which was quite nice; the seats, which were really excellent; nor was it the food, which was very good, and not really too expensive. The problem was the people. For the most part, numerically, most were normal, but for a three day stint, I seemed to run into quite a few who did their best to make sure I did not feel welcome. First, was the loud-mouth two rows behind, who shouted as loudly as possible at every player and play. He boomed such keepsakes as: "BOOOOOOOOOO!!!&q

And so, I have now joined the legions of people who have discovered "fame" via YouTube. I rather like this medium, so you can expect more from me here, and maybe this blogging thingy will become V-Logging! For now, I'm still learning how to edit things. I'm very basic, but I've spliced together a couple of sequences. The thing I like about this is that it gives me a whole new outlet in which to be creative. I can do the kinds of things I've always only ever seen in my head. Hopefully, other people will appreciate what I have to share. Here is the latest:

This ride was to honor the memories of those law enforcement officers killed in the line of duty, and also to raise money to help the families of these officers. The ride stopped at the different memorials for each law enforcement agency: Raleigh Police, State Troopers, and the Wake County Sheriff's Department. About 300 bikes/bikers participated in this ride, most of whom were either in law enforcement or connected to it in some way. Everyone was very respectful, and the ride was conducted in a very safe manner, along winding, back country roads. The police escorts for this ride were expert at blocking traffic to make a safe path for us, and overall I think for my first group ride, I could not have chosen a better event. The only problem I had was that the lady on the rice rocket next to me was not maintaining the staggered formation, and she kept revving up and passing me, only to slow down again and get behind me. This was needlessly dangerous, and I ended up just staying wa

So I've joined you, techno-savy rabble! I received a Nano as a gift, and I jumped into the next wave with both feet! Now, I'm sitting at the computer for lengthy hours, loading songs from CD's (how quaint!) and buying songs for a buck a pop at the iTunes store! I'm hip! I'm with it! So why do I still feel like a reluctant, old, techno-hating curmudgeon? Why, I'll tell you why, young whipper-snapper! It's because this is the 4th time I've seen the basic music medium change! I was born in the age of records and 8-track cassettes. Then, audio cassettes came out, and by this time, I was old enough to care. My sisters were screwed because they had the older format, and had to buy all new versions. Then, CD's came out and I was screwed too. I ended up buying close to 800 CD's and I even have a CD tower that holds up to 1200 CD's! Now what am I going to do with all those increasingly irrelevant disks? Keep them? I know I will for now, a

I'm not really that old, but I feel it sometimes. I feel it when I don't work out for a couple of days and my joints begin to ache and crack. I feel it when I work out and I have stiffness and pain for a few days afterwards. It is especially evident in the lines on my face - though these are still subtle. The grey hairs I am beginning to notice are the final calling card, letting me know that I have passed a milestone. You read all the time about this kind of thing. Movies are made about it. It's a tired, old story about realizing that you are getting older and that youth is going or gone. My rephrasing it is most likely only of interest to me - a sort of middle-aged self-indulgence, but I feel my view on it is worth putting down. In my case, getting older means realizing that the endless wellspring of energy I once had is now not endless. I used to feel that I could go on forever if I wanted to. That whole concept of ferever has changed too. Forever, back when I was younge

February 1st, and the snow was flying! Well, at least, for a few hours. Then it turned to rain, and by the end of the day, my face-down snowman was all that remained of a "winter wonderland." Truth be told, I actually miss getting snow in the winter. To only have cold days, without the beauty brought by the occasional snowfall, makes winter just a grim, sad time, with little to see that makes one feel good inside. Snow, for all its cold, has the effect of making you feel all warm and cosy in your house, curled up in a blanket in front of the fire, drinking cocoa. In North Carolina, everythintg closes, pretty much, because there is nothing substantial to clear away the snow and ice. People are not used to driving in icy conditions, so accidents abound. Northerners complain about the "pussies" down here, but they are too short-sighted. Why spend the mega-bucks required to prepare for a serious winter storm when you only see one every three to five years? It