Sunday, April 19, 2009

Too Many Popsicles, 70 is the new 30, Too Many Tootsie Pops, A Woman Carrying A Man's Head

Eve and Ceilidh in polka-dots, jacked up on popsicles on a Northampton porch in broad daylight. They blew a 1.15 which is .75 above the legal limit for popsicles.
Jena in Matt's car; Brendan at left before we all left for Boston. They were kind enough to give me a lift to the city for my mom's 70th birthday party on their way to see Flight of the Concords in Boston.
My family minus my dad outside Upstairs on the Square where we had the birthday party. Someone always blinks. My mom said that your 70s are your young old age, your 80s are your middle old age, and your 90s, well, heck, it's time to stop bullshitting yourself by then. But at 70, that's a long way off.
To prove her point, my 70 year old mom takes a wack at a pinata...filled with nips. Sorry I don't have the little squiggly symbol for the a in pinata but this pinata probably doesn't deserve it anyway. It cost $8. It was just glued together cardboard from beer cases on the inside and thus didn't have the desired explosive effect provided by a proper papier mache pinata when the bat really connected. It finally got knocked off the string and the kids set upon it like animals; tearing at the carcass, tossing the nips away, annoyed, and scraping for the Sweet Tarts and Tootsie Pops. Young Theo, a nephew, was later found to have eaten 8 Tootsie Pops. He had the naked sticks to prove it. My sister Sarah said 8 Tootsie Pops per kid is pretty much the norm with a pinata as we all looked on with concern at Theo as he shook and smiled.
Our childhood friend Kristen Ingersoll and my sister Amy. I recall once we were sitting around talking about our futures when we were about 9 or 10 in Maryland . Though Kristen was a "country girl" (a demographic designation coined by nasty Nelly Olsen on Little House on the Prairie) she said she wanted to travel the world, untethered and free, and be kind of a big deal. She's the fashion and entertainment director of Hearst Magazine International now. I think I said I wanted a BB gun or a mini-bike or something. I was into immediate gratification, not vision and goal-setting.
Nephew Noah takes out a passerby with one shot.
Scooter and Scout, my sister Sarah's cats in perfect balance.
Patty was camera shy but I did take this self portrait of me thinking of Patty in the bathroom mirror of a North End bar. This is hardly a satisfactory alternative to a photo of her for you the viewer, believe me. In fact, I look a little sketchy. I remember the picture of her I had in my head and this isn't the facial expression I would associate with that. It was a ripping spin of an evening with great North End Italian food and a statue of Paul Revere to boot. We were pretty tipsy and I think we yelled "Anthonyyyyyyyy!" I bet that never gets old for the residents and shopkeeps of the North End.
Below; Boston/Cambridge candids. Skylines taken from bus window.


wylie said...

Wednesday is Prince spaghetti day lest we forget. Spaghetti junkie

Mary E.Carey said...

Wonderful post. Your mom is right, I think. And come to think of it, I think that Anthony commercial was one of the most formative things in my life.

Llama said...

Great - I get it now.