Proud Father Moment

Photograph by Matt McShane

Congratulations to my daughter, Erin Kate, for receiving her MSW from Boston College. She will be an outstanding advocate for the downtrodden in society.

Goodbye Bungalow

The Quincy bungalow has served the family well since 1969 or so. It was my parents' downsize house, purchased when youngest child John was in high school. They installed an in-ground pool to make up for selling the Falmouth cottage, and nicknamed the pool patio "Belmont Terrace."

It was the Grammy's pride and joy. She decorated it to her ornate tastes, including three chandeliers and sculpted wall-to-wall carpeting in the main rooms. The bungalow was the site of many a pool party, and most of the grandchildren learned to swim there.

After Dad passed away in 2001, it was soon apparent that the Grammy wouldn't be able to live alone. When she had to go to assisted living, I moved in and updated the decor, refinishing the white oak floors and replacing the yellowed colonial wallpaper with elegant colors from Benjamin Moore. I bought the house from the estate and lived there until moving to the North Shore to be with Kathleen. The final family tenant has been my daughter Erin, who has lived there while completing her MSW degree at Boston College.

A few days after my mentioning to neighbors that I was putting the house up for sale, one stopped by and asked if a young couple she knew could see it. They came for a tour, and two days later bought the house on a handshake--no brokers, no agents, no open houses.

The young couple is beyond excited. The house will be well-loved.

From the Sublime to the Ridiculous

Weeknights are usually quiet, but this week I've been out two nights already. I was staying over at the Quincy house to get some painting done, so friend and neighbor Tom B. and I went to Cambridge to catch the Session Americana Tuesday night music residency. We arrived at the Lizard Lounge at 8:15 and were the second and third persons admitted. This meant front row seats next to the sound man. We ordered up some beers and sandwiches and watched the crowd settle in.

The band went on promptly at 9:30, working around the table until each of the four usual soloists had done a song. The crowd was smaller than the one for St. Patrick's Day, but just as intense and not as annoyingly talkative. Tom was fascinated by the set-up, since he is attempting to put together an acoustic group himself (he just bought a Dobro to go with his Gibson 12-string, Martin Dreadnought, acoustic and electric basses, and two ukuleles).

As 11 o'clock approached, Ry Cavanaugh invited song suggestions, and I called for "Water (Never Runs Uphill)". The band obliged, playing the song as the second of three requests, then finished the set with The Band's "The Shape I'm In" and their own "Beer Town".

Back to the North Shore on Wednesday, I traded in the jeans and T-shirt for a dark suit to accompany Kathy to a Nordstrom's grand opening. The department chain had decided to use the occasion to recognize three local charitable groups, including Kathy's Friends of Beverly Hospital. The event included live music on the first floor, a Deejay and fashion show on the second, with food stations and open bars on both.

We took glasses of champagne and watched the band for a while, a capable cover band with three singers and a horn section. We went to the second floor where the deejay was pumping out hip-hop flanked by two trios of disconcertingly tall and thin models who shifted insouciant expressions and flouncy poses every thirty seconds or so. My sense of disorientation was alleviated when I located a food station that featured raw bar items--raw oysters and littlenecks always make me feel more at home.

I took a meander through the men's clothing section and gaped at the $76 price tag on a Vineyard Vines tie. To restore a sense of reason, I looked at a store label tie, which I expected to be cheaper. One hundred and thirty-six dollars. Huh?

Nordstrom's deserves credit for using its grand opening to honor local charities, but don't expect to see me shopping there. Water--it never runs uphill.

St. Patrick's at the Lizard

Session Americana held their regular gig at the Lizard Lounge on the 17th. Kathy, Conor, and I arrived early and had some beers and nachos upstairs at the Cambridge Commons Restaurant, then picked up our tickets and headed downstairs.

We positioned our barstools behind the first row of tables and ordered some cheeseburger sliders to fortify us for the music. Some of the stringed instruments were arrayed before us, awaiting the show: guitar, mandocello, banjo, mandolin, and fiddle.

We were this close. The band, an all-star aggregation of the Boston area's best folk/roots musicians, played some songs from their usual set lists and added in some Irish numbers and guest musicians. Pictured above, from the left, are Sean Staples (usually on mandolin), drummer Billy Beard, fiddler/accordionist/guitarist Dinty Child, guitarist Ry Cavanaugh, and a guest viola player.

We managed to applaud without spilling a drop.

The Bungalows

Our week at Puerto Plata's #1 resort was an exercise in luxury and decadence. The resort was located on a hilltop above the more pedestrian Sun Village.

Initially, we took frequent golf cart rides down the hill to use the beach and visit the theme restaurants, but more and more we stayed up top for the in-pool chaise lounges and the superior food and beverages at the Bungalows restaurant, the Social. It was at the pool that Boss befriended Wallace Poole, a musician who performs a Willie Nelson tribute.

The Social Restaurant: unlimited Glenfiddich, filet mignon with bordelaise sauce, and passionfruit creme brulee


We had a suite of three rooms, two large bedrooms and a central room with galley kitchen, dining area, and living room. All three rooms had plasma televisions, Jacuzzis, and full baths. The rooms had large, airy, interconnected verandas, perfect for reading with a Brugal añejo.

The Queen of Quirkiness

As usual Kathy kept the proceedings moving. She had some memorable lines that amused us all, including these:

>On tipping the golf cart drivers--"Two dollars, or one at the most."

>On setting the AC-- "I punched some buttons." (She'd set it to heat.)

>While reading City of Thieves--"How many chickens can an egg lay in a week?"

>On being able to rent purchased weeks--"Lourdes (the agent) said 60-40. That's 50%."

>On dressing for dinner, and our concierge-- "I want to talk to Davio when I change into my capris."

We also had a couple of misadventures. I was reading on the bed when Kathy decided to take a bubble bath in the jacuzzi 20 feet away. Suddenly, I got hit with a stream of soapy water worthy of a water cannon (the top jet hadn't been covered by the water when Kathy turned it on). Pages 42-3 of Suttree will never be the same.

And finally, the TSA agent who inspected Kathy's carry-on was shocked to find a quart of tapioca pudding. Her explanation, "But I just bought it," did not get it on the plane.

Ah, but it's quirks such as these--and savvy, and charm--that make Kathy the best traveling companion that I've ever known.