Just came back from a run. It's such a nice day, I felt like I could have gone a couple of more miles. I encountered Lisa and Travis in Davis Sq and we talked about Lisa's Boston marathon experience. Hearing her tale gave me more incentive and invigorated the rest of my run.
I've been pretty busy lately -- not with anything particularly important -- but busy nonetheless. It's why I haven't posted much recently. I know my absence must have been difficult for you, but I've returned and will try to post regularly.
Friday was Ann's last day. It sucks that she won't be back, but I'm happy for her. I like everyone I work with, but the one's I've really gelled with have left. What's up with that? Anyway, I took Ann out for a couple of drinks after work on Tuesday because I missed her going away dinner last Sunday. We have a lot in common and, hopefully, we'll stay in touch. The office won't be the same without her.
I've been watching season 4 of The Wire for over a week and have come to the conclusion that it's one of the greatest shows of all time. I don't know if it's this season in particular, or if I've finally embraced the show entirely, but I cannot get enough of it. It's intelligent, well acted with authentic-looking actors, funny, tragic. It's Shakespeare, baby. I have one episode left and then I'll Netflix the fuck out of season 5.
Between The Wire and the playoffs - Bruins and Celtics - I've been playing less music. Not that much less, though. I've been cultivating a couple of new gems that would make the new album if I had one to put out. Both the C's and the B's look about ready to be eliminated in their respective series, so I should have more time to write.
Went to my grandmother's yesterday to celebrate mother's day. My sister couldn't make it on Sunday so we rescheduled. I was two hours late. My dad called me around noon wondering where I was. When he had left me a message earlier in the week telling me what time we were meeting up, I thought he said one o'clock. Apparently, he said eleven. Who the hell gets together at eleven in the morning on a Saturday? My family, that's who.
It was a worthwhile visit, my tardiness notwithstanding. My uncle Dick and aunt Shelley were up from Pennsylvania and it was nice seeing them. I made the mistake of asking Shelley how their trip up was. I had forgotten how much Shelley likes to talk. For about a half hour, she treated me to a monologue about the hazards of air travel.
Everyone else was in the porch and I was stuck in the kitchen with Shelley. I couldn't escape. I tried to several times, but was unsuccessful. I finally had to say to her that I was thirsty and was going to grab a beer from the cooler in the porch.
Later, Shelley pulled a good chunk of the family into the dining room to go over the family tree. Shelley, despite not being a blood relative, is really into our family's genealogy. The bulk of the binder she laid out on the table indicated as much. I stayed in the kitchen with my cousin, Brian, and talked about Seth Rogan's decline. I had already put my time in with Shelley.
At one point, my uncle Gene joined us in the kitchen. We asked him how he managed to escape. "I just got up and left", he replied. "I couldn't think of any other way to do it and went with the simple approach."
"What about my dad?", I asked him.
Gene shook his head. "He didn't make it".
I peered into the dining room and saw the futility in my father's eyes. He couldn't escape like Gene. My mother was beside him and would prevent that from happening. I raised my glass in a silent toast to my father.
Okay, I'm done. There's more I wanted to cover, but I've got other things to do.
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