Trippy

Hooked up already

I learned how to live on the Upper West Side yesterday. It involves arriving midtown, going to the Upper East to get your taxes done before the REAL deadline, downtown to Washington Square to get a Xanax Rx and to get introduced to a new pot dealer via a tax attorney, then going back to Lincoln Center to crash while doped up on cough medication. Nyqyilia. Eh, ha, ha.

I’m still a little amused and dumbfounded that my tax attorney hooked me up with a primo pot dealer who delivers on the UWS. I mean, he called her while he was doing my taxes to act as a reference for me. (She doesn’t deal with anyone unless they’re referred.) I haven’t even moved in and I have a source. I have her number. I could move to Lincoln Center next week, with three huge closets and a giant living area and bedroom, have a freezer full of weed, and a woman I’m in love with next door.

Sounds weird, eh?

Fenway on Sunday, 10/3/10. The final game of the season.

The game on Saturday busted the energy out of us. Then we had to negotiate this hellish exodus from the alter of Fenway while 35,000 others were negotiating their influx to the shrine. It was a double header—two games in one day.

Oh, and did I mention that I caught a foul ball? I was bleeding a little and had a bit of a broken finger, but won the scrum for the ball. (Hence the pic in the previous entry.)

Lynn and I made it back to the harbor hotel, showered and decided to have dinner and drinks. We had a nice night.

We woke up early on Sunday for the 1:30 game. Had breakfast at a cool whiskey bar overlooking the harbor. Took the T (Boston subway) to Copley and bought sweatshirts.

We strolled to Fenway and took our seats, this time on top of the Green Monster. We were high in the sky, so it was a bit chilly. The sweatshirts came in handy. Lynn went down for some beers and came back with beers and a genuine Red Sox fleece blanket.

The Sox won the game. Their season ended. I was terribly sad. But they crushed the Yankees.

We fought during the train ride home. We made up.

Fenway Park, 10-2-10

OK, so here's how this past weekend went:

Lynn and I arrive in Boston late Friday night for games on Saturday and Sunday.

Turns out Friday night's game is rained out, so there is a day/night double header on Saturday. We are at the first game, which is nationally televised, sitting in the first row behind the Red Sox dugout.

Yes, we were on TV.

Go to the Red Sox Official Site, look up Mike Lowell highlights, and you will see us in the background as he tips his cap for the last time as a Major League player (He was the MVP for the Sox in the 2007 World Series.)

I'm the guy in the first row with the hands clapping over his head, wearing a dark jacket with half of a gray Red Sox shirt hanging out over his waist, white 2004 Red Sox Champs cap, and sunglasses. Lynn is right next to me, on my left, taking a photo. I think a lot of people watching the game saw us on TV (judging by my texts.)

Then came Sunday...

Terribly sad.

The Red Sox lost last night. I am despondent. I still plan on going to Fenway with Lynn next weekend. We have great seats. The kind that are seen on most national broadcasts.

Some ruminations on my brand new nephew, Jake, and about turning the page on the ol' birthday scale this past Sept. 22 are forthcoming. I promise.

I know I'm not exactly blogadicious at this point in time.

My niece and I

My niece, Tara, and I in a pool in Spring Lake, NJ. She can swim as well, if not better, than me. I'm 43 (going to be 44 in 20 days.) She's 9.

Hopefully my new nephew will be born within the next 2 weeks. If he waits any longer, my family will have a backlog of birthdays in the third week of September (3 already.)

Lynn and I at Citi Field

My mom, unfortunately, took the pic. I kind of liked the way Lynn was humping me with the words "Home Run" behind us. This was a beautiful day for a game--even though it took place in Queens, NYC. It was probably the last meaningful game of the year for the Mets. Let's go Red Sox.

Hand in glove

I’m seriously thinking about taking the next step with Lynn. The only problem is my temperament. I seem to become dissettled at the oddest things. Like if she laughs too hard at her own jokes. The better part of me says that she has an awesome sense of humor and is incredibly beautiful. The worse part of me says never laugh at your own jokes. She is blessed with grace and beauty and humor and she seems to – god only knows why – tolerate me. She drinks faster than I do, eats faster than I do, and looks better than I do naked.

There’s a coolness factor that’s not fitting into the puzzle, and I’m not sure if she has it. Frankly, I don’t care. But if I hold out, I’ll be forever alone.

There was a moment at the Met game yesterday that I didn’t fully appreciate until today. She, for no reason, gave me a hug and a kiss. I’m not used to this. The sun was white-hot gold, the sky was cerulean, and the grass was a massive manicured expanse of green. The home team won and it was as if it had happened in our own back yard (10 subway stops or so away.) It was a day to remember forever.

For those of you who have been married, are married, or wonderfully attached, shoot me some advice. I love her.

Citi Field

Went to see the Astros vs. Mets today at Citi Field in NYC today. It was part of my dad’s birthday present. We got mom and dad a town car to the game. Lynn and I took the L train to Queens. We (I) found the brick we bought for him in the sidewalk for his birthday. Then we went inside the Jackie Robinson Rotunda to see the Mets Hall Of Fame. It was pretty cool. Then mom decided to splurge and bought dad and me Mets caps. Both feature the iconic Mr. Met mascot. We then went to find our seats. Fourth row up from the home team dugout, on a straight line from first base to second base. R.A. Dickey pitched another gem. We were as far away from the field as you are from your nearest window wall. It was a happy birthday for my dad. Mets won, 5-1.

My Dad is a septuagenarian!

As far as the Jersey Shore goes, I had the best seat in the house this weekend. Thanks to 15 people, a few gifts, one private ocean-view dining room, and a ton of love.

The weather was beautiful, the beach was pristine, and the ocean was rocking. I spent quality time there with my mom and dad, my sister and her daughter, and my girlfriend.

We celebrated my father’s 70^th birthday Saturday night at The Breakers in Spring Lake, NJ. Kind of a posh place, right on the beach. My mom and I worked on the party for three months to make it go off without a hitch. But it was Lynn, my girlfriend, who stepped in to make it a true celebration.

Lynn and I have been dating for almost six months. Not a long time, but enough time to love each other. She sensed me stressing about making my dad’s 70^th a true celebration, and she knew I was struggling.

My dad’s favorite baseball team is the NY Mets. They opened up a new stadium, Citi Field, last year. As part of the opening, they offered – this is weird – bricks for sale. Pavement bricks that buyers could have engraved with personal messages. I thought it was kind of cool, but too expensive. Then dad’s 70^th started coming up and suddenly the price (in my head) was less pricey and the gift more meaningful. Nothing is too expensive for the man who raised me, taught me how to hit, taught me how to write, and taught me how to chill out. I dished out 400 bucks and bought him a brick. Engraved with a loving message from my mom, my sisters, and me.

But how would we get him there to see the brick (even though they kindly sent us a replica) AND get him awesome seats for a game? That’s where Lynn came in.

My father never really got great seats for a game. I used to get good seats many years back, but it was only because I was a sports writer, and more recently because I worked for a prominent ad agency. I’ve been to many games with him, but they were mostly upper deck or outfield seats. I wanted this game to be special, even if the Mets aren’t.

Lynn got us tickets 4^th row, field level, behind the Mets dugout.

This will be the closest to the field he’s ever been since he played second base in college. Or watched me in little league.

Lynn is a saint. She hadn’t met my father before she bought the tickets. She hadn’t met either my father or mother before the party. But they clicked. And now I’m going on a double date with Lynn and my mom, and my AWESOME dad, to a Met game in a couple of weeks from now.

This time, finally, he’ll have the best seat in the house.