Sunday, August 13, 2006

In early June, I went to New York for work. Since my meeting was conveniently scheduled for Friday afternoon, I arranged to meet up with my old college friend, Lauren D'Angelo.

Now, I have lived in Boston since 1994. Despite that length of tenure, I have remained true to my childhood loyalties. I have remained a New York Yankees fan. The experiences of the past 12 years would make a great book... The life of a Yankees fan in Boston. I am seriously considering writing it.

A trip to (my first), and I purchased two tickets to a Yankees game that Friday night (June 9) against Oakland. Lauren and I went. The seats were awesome.

I was a maniac at the game. But that's because I have a lot of pent-up emotion. I can't cheer for the Yankees in Boston-- at least not outwardly. I really can't even cheer that loud when I am in my apartment, or I risk being heard by my neighbors and being outed. My close friends know I am a Yankee fan, and fortunately they have learned to accept it.

Since the Yankees were losing in the seventh inning by a bunch-- courtesy of another bad start by Randy Johnson, and since the game was in the middle of a rain delay-- Lauren and I left and went back to her home neighborhood in Hoboken. There, we went to a local bar and gave sage advice to a bunch of recent college grads. We served as proof that at age 30 one still can go out past midnight (now I remember that Lauren is not 30, yet. Sorry Lauren).

The next morning, as is customary, Lauren and I went to the famous diner in Hoboken and had pork roll and pancakes.

I have been eating a lot of pancakes lately. Probably why I am back up about 220. ugh.


Sunday, August 06, 2006

When I first decided to create a blog, I dedicated myself to updating it at least once a month. As you can see, I did not live up to that promise. I assure you it's not because I have suddenly lost interest in this concept; there just isn't enough time in the day. More importantly, it's clear that as you get older time accelerates-- each day represents a mathematically smaller and smaller portion of one's entire life... So each day seems shorter.

It is now early August, and we're into the final full month of Summer. I have spent a significant portion of this summer on the Beach, which is by design. For pretty much the entire month of July, my loyal beach companion and organizer, Nikko Mendoza, was in her native Philippines. Luckily, the Levanto family beach cottage in Connecticut was open, so I spent time there each weekend, chatting it up with my parents. When Nikko returned two weeks ago, we launched on a tour of beaches in Massachusetts. Last week, Nikko, my friend Elizabeth Leary, and I went to Singing Beach in Manchester. Good beach-- except the water temperature is frigid. Yesterday, the three of us, plus an addition-- Jen Mehigan-- trekked to Cape Cod to spend time at Elizabeth's family home there.

Later this month, I am back at the beach cottage in CT, once the renters move out, for a BBQ.


Nikko's cousin, who is attending MIT in Cambridge, spent the summer in Los Angeles. She graciously left her car, a BMW X5, to Nikko. Here's Nikko behind the wheel, looking at home:

Nikko and I went on a tour of Boston's neighborhoods last month. I had never seen Readville, which is where Mayor Menino lives, or Roslindale, which is very cute, or the areas if Roxbury that are especially violence prone. We saw the all.


Every July 3rd since I was in-between my second and third years at Boston University (1996), my parents have come to Boston to watch the Boston Pops. The famous orchestra performs every Independence day on the Esplanade. What many don't know is that the same concert takes place the night before, on July 3rd. It's a warm-up, plus it allows CBS to tape the performance in the event of rain on July 4th (CBS broadcasts a portion of the concert live nationally).

I can't go into detail, but after doing this thing for more than ten years, we have a method to ensure we get the best seat in the house. This year was no different. Here's my dad standing in our spot:

Since 1996, my parents and I have seen some great acts on July 3rd, including Trisha Yearwood and Roberta Flack. We've also seen some bad ones, like Cindy Lauper.

The special guest this year was Steve Tyler from Aerosmith. A Boston native who apparently works out from time to time in my gym (that's what the manager says), Steve Tyler attracted the most eclectic audience I have ever seen for one of these events. This year, I nearly witnessed my first Esplanade brawl, involving two avid female Aerosmith fans jockeying to get the best view (right over my seat). I was very afraid, being so close to the action (refer to picture above) that my parents would lose their hearing. Luckily, the orchestra backed up Tyler, not the rest of Aerosmith-- and the sound was comfortably regulated.


I cannot log off this Sunday without word out to Paul PMAC McNeeley, who invited me on a boyz-only trip to VEGAS (baby) in July. Earlier in the month, PMAC invited me to the Harvard hockey rink to watch the Boston Lobsters (Boston's own professional tennis team). The opponents, from Sacramento, included the lovely Anna Kournikova.

It's cool Boston has a professional tennis team-- and it's cool the team is hosted by Harvard. But let's just say that I would only be interested in attending if Ms. K is the opponent. Luckily, Paul understands this, too. Thanks PMAC.

This week, I am off to Utah for work... two days in Salt Lake-- my first trip there. Later in the month I am back in Vegas (baby) for Blake's bachelor party.