Gone to Carolina

I’m getting ready to depart for North Carolina tonight. I’ll be gone for two weeks, but the way this blog has been going of late, I doubt anyone will notice.

I’m really looking forward to getting down there. My family goes every summer, but this is the first time in the past four years that I have been able to join them.

(Likewise, this past weekend was the first time in four years that I’ve made it to Utica for our family reunion. Of all the years to make it, it was great to be there this year as my brother won our family golf tournament, getting to inscribe his name below those of the winners from the past thirty or so years).

One tradition I’m keenly looking forward to is the purchasing of our annual football preview magazine. We’ve been buying one our first day down in N.C. for as long as I can remember. There are always plenty to choose from, particularly now that fantasy football is such a huge industry. Our method for choosing which one we will buy is relatively simple – we grab whichever one predicts the highest finish for the only team that matters:

Go Giants!

2007, Happy New Year!

This greeting courtesy of my friend Deanna, who last night mused that she wished the fireworks we were watching would spell that out. My sister and I gleefully snapped her out of her explosion watching stupor by reminding her what holiday we were actually celebrating. But aside from Happy Fourth of July and a misplaced Happy New Year, there is one other greeting I feel compelled to make:

Happy Birthday Radar

Yesterday was my dog’s twelfth birthday. That’s a number most dogs don’t reach, and an occasion worthy of retelling the tale of how I got a dog.

When I was eight years old, my brother and I decided that what we wanted most in all the world was a dog. We had never had a pet, but my parents seemed to agree that we were ready. That Christmas, the only thing on our wish list was a puppy. My mom had decided we would get a cocker spaniel, since they were small and a favorite of hers. We went to pet stores to find the right one. We told the Santa at the mall that we wanted a puppy. We told everyone that we wanted a puppy.

Christmas morning we came out of our room, and there was the collar and leash, right next to the food and water bowls. Then my parents told us to go into the next room. We ran in and there it was…..

A Commodore 64!!!

So we didn’t get our dog for another ten years. But that’s a tale for another time. I’m off to play Zaxxon.

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