“Hello? … Yeah, this is him. … I have a what? … A blog? Oh, shit, that’s right.”
Ahem.
Hey, you guys! How’s it going? Me? No, I didn’t die; I’ve just been trying desperately to make the minimum monthly payments on my Mt. Everest-sized pile of debt … and since my mad website-building skillz currently pay more than my mad blogging skillz, I’ve been focusing as of late on the former endeavor … which explains why I currently am in Boston attending An Event Apart, a conference for people who build websites.
The best part about attending the conference? My employer is paying for it. The second best part about attending the conference? I got to hit last night’s Red Sox game with my Dad.
![Fenway Paaahhhhk.](https://live.staticflickr.com/5345/7407888040_6f4a84d765_b.jpg)
The best part about hitting last night’s Red Sox game with my Dad? He paid for it.
Actually, the best part about hitting the Red Sox game with my Dad … was hitting a Red Sox game with my Dad … something that neither of us had any interest in doing when I was a kid. (This is what my social-worker wife would call a “corrective experience.”)
Now, as with any plan involving my Dad, there was a high probability of confusion and chaos … which is why, when he called me from a stranger’s phone 40 minutes prior to game time and left me a voicemail saying that he’d forgotten his own phone at home, I was convinced that the likelihood of him and I finding each other in the mayhem outside of Fenway Park prior to, say, the 7th inning was anorexically slim.
(And for those of you asking: “Why didn’t you just answer your phone when it rang, dumb ass?” Well, firstly: I don’t appreciate being called a dumb ass. Secondly: I rarely answer my phone when I do recognize the caller’s phone number … but when I don’t recognize the caller’s phone number? The caller stands a better chance of contacting me via carrier pigeon.)
And so it was that I hunkered down at my favorite pregame watering hole, ordered up a delicious Fenway Pale Ale …
![Fenway Pale Ale @ Boston Beer Works](https://live.staticflickr.com/7107/7407996846_9ac6df4cf1_b.jpg)
… and prepared to watch the first six-or-so innings on the flat screen hanging over the bar.
You guys: Life really is full of surprises:
![](https://live.staticflickr.com/8015/7404755728_2dcd42ab49_c.jpg)
It is with tremendous glee that I tell you the photo above was taken during the bottom of the second inning … and it is with even greater glee that I tell you we arrived at our seats in the bottom of the first inning, just seconds before Big Papi hit a two-run, game-tying blast into the right-field seats.
Add to all of that some spectacular weather and seats that were located a mere eight rows away from the field …
![Spoiled by the sweet seats we scored to the Red Sox game](https://live.staticflickr.com/8163/7408053990_3989270f5b_b.jpg)
… and what you have is a Hallmark-worthy evening of father-and-son bonding.
Thanks for the corrective experience, Pop!
Glad you got to get some time away and hit the park with your pop! I did that on my b-day at a Braves game a few years ago. It was awesome.
So I win the prize for Most Apathetic Blogger then. Yay, me!
The event would only have been made more memorable had Van Halen played the National Anthem. 🙂
Oh, so you have at Mt. Everest-sized pile of debt too? Good to know, I’m not the only wage-slave out there.
Glad you got to have that “corrective experience” with your dad. Although to be honest a “corrective experience” sounds more like a painful procedure or rehabilitation via incarceration. But I digress, you had fun and that’s what matters.
Glad you are still alive, I really enjoy your blog.
I totally agree: I don’t answer the phone if I don’t recognize the number. Except these days I do because I’m using my cell-phone in my job search. So I kind of have to.
Also, that beer looks yummy.
Oh the magic of baseball. Only in the last couple of years (I’m 37) did my father and I discover we *could* speak the same language – the language of baseball. We may not have deep, meaningful conversations, but we can spend time together (or text each other) during the games. I have a “relationship” with my father!
Claw – Go Rangers!
I’m glad you’re alive, too, because I just added your site to my “favorite blogs” links and I’d hate for my readers to show up at a funeral.
Good to see you had fun with your dad. I get to see my dad soon, and I can’t wait. I miss the old fart.
Awesome, great stuff. Someday, maybe, God willing, I’ll make it to Boston. Or it won’t happen at all. Who knows.