This past weekend I completed one of my bucket list items – I made to Boston and Fenway Park to watch a baseball game and my thirtieth MLB franchise. I have been looking forward to this game since last season. It was a great weekend, and I watched all three games between the Hoston Astros and the Boston Red Sox before flying home Sunday night. It was a full weekend.
Boston Logan peaks at me through the clouds
Fenway Park is the oldest ballpark in the major leagues and has been used by the Boston Red Sox since 1912. The Chicago Cubs home Wrigley Field is the second oldest having been in use since 1914.
Every ballpark is different. Each ballpark has its own traditions and routines, but in the end it’s that brings us all together. All the fans I interacted with over the weekend were friendly and fun to talk with during the game. They knew the game and enjoyed baseball and were passionate about their team.
Singing “Sweet Caroline” is one of the traditions at Fenway. It is sung in the eighth inning, and it is sung with gusto. I remember learning to play “Sweet Caroline” in seventh grade band. I was so excited to play something fun and upbeat, and my trombone part included playing the tune, rather than in the playing in the background which many of the scores we played had for the trombone.
Where it began I can’t begin to knowin’ But then I know it’s growin’ strong
I didn’t last long in band and quit when high school started. Like many of my peers, I was drifting and wouldn’t really find myself or my place until my junior year.
Sweet Caroline Good times never seemed so good I’ve been inclined To believe they never would
I took an early flight to Boston and landed before noon. I had hoped to use public transit to get to the hotel but was confused and chose a ride share to get to my hotel. It wasn’t until I left Sunday that I realized my mistake! Next time I’ll get it right.
Boston is one of the oldest cities in America, but its history pales in comparison to the cities I had visited in Europe – London, Paris, and Amsterdam. I spent Friday afternoon walking the historical areas in downtown Boston before the game Friday. It was a lovely afternoon, perfect for walking and exploring.
the Boston massacre Memorial on the Boston Common
‘The Embrace’ a memorial the Martin Luther King, Jr and his wife Coretta Scott King
The 54th Massachusetts Memorial – an all black regiment with fought in the Civil War, led by Bostonite Robert Gould Shaw
Benjamin Frankin was born in Boston
the Old City Hall
the memorial to visitors of the Irish Famine 1948-49
the old South Meeting House where the ‘Good Trouble’ began the original ‘resist’ movement
the site of the Boston Massacre, memorialized
I had great seats for Friday’s game – 7 rows behind home plate and on the aisle! There was a family behind me; the grandpa and I talked baseball throughout the game. Sadly, the Astros lost the game in extras 2-1, but it was the best game of the weekend.
the view from the ‘Green Monster’ the 37 foot high left field wall
pre-game view from my seat
the classic peanut photo….
And before I knew it, Friday melted into Saturday morning. Saturday’s game was a 4:10 start and I wanted to arrive early enough to walk the ballpark and take it all in, so I decided to go visit the Boston Museum of Fine Arts which has a special exhibit I wanted to see.
Yes, you guessed it Van Gogh. The exhibit highlighted the artist’s work in the south of France in the last few years of his life. He painted a postal worker and his family while living in the yellow house. I enjoyed the exhibit very much.
yep, it’s me
the postal worker – Joseph Moulin
the famous bedroom
another Van Gogh selfie..
and another selfie with a selfie
Joseph Moulin’s wife, Augustine
another Van Gogh selfie.. they are all very different
Joseph Roulin, the postman
Augustine and her newborn daughter, Marcelle
Saturday’s original plan was to go to the game directly from the museum, but I needed to return to the hotel before the game, and it worked out as I befriended a couple at the tram stop near the hotel. We ended up having a beer before the game.
I tried to connect with my favorite player, but was too late and batting practice was over when I arrived, but I did run into the Friday’s evening’s usher who recognized me and he exclaimed,
“You’re back!”
to which I replied, “You’re back, too!
And we laughed. The grandpa from Friday night had mentioned that he and the usher had gone to high school together and I mentioned it to the usher, and he said,
“Yes, but he went to Harvard.”
I asked where he went, and he replied,
“Williams.”
I smiled and I replied,
“Which is better?”
and he replied,
“Williams!”
And both we laughed.
Then I was off to Saturday afternoon’s seat. I decided to sit in the right field bleachers for Saturday’s game. I found my seat and talked with the usher, Ed, about Fenway and baseball. It is always fun to engage with folks at the ballpark.
Saturday’s game was fun, but like Friday my team ended up on the short side of the score 7-3.
Fenway is on the national Register of Historic Places and there are plaques and markers throughout the park
pre-game photo from my seat
scouting Sunday’s seat on Saturday
a great sign and good advice, and I love the colors of the wall it makes the sign standout, much like to colors in an art museum…
The game ended around 7 PM and I decided it was a nice evening for a walk back to the hotel.
Sunday’s game was an 11:35 AM start and I needed to cleanup, pack up, and checkout of the hotel before going to the game.
I was able to write a few postcards before checking out and taking the tram to the game.
I chose to sit along the first base side in the right field stands for Sunday’s game. I had scouted the seat Saturday and decided where I was going to sit the day before. There were two seats available – seats 12 and 13. I am funny about the number 13, so I chose seat 12. I also, thought (secretly hoped) no one would purchase seat 13. I was wrong, but the person who bought the ticket never showed up; nor did my team and they lost a third game in a row, 7-1.
another sign, filled with great advice
Sunday’s game view
another peanut photo for the collection
seen on the way out – we all have different name. An excellent 70th birthday gift for a baseball fan…
Sweet Caroline Good times never seemed so good I’ve been inclined To believe they never would, oh, no, no
That’s baseball. The season is 162 games long, which is a long time. The season begins in late March and finishes at the end of September followed by a month of playoffs ending in the World Series and a serason’s champion. It’s a long haul, much like my bucket list journey. It started with my first game in the 1970s and I added a second stadium in 1986, then a third in ’87, a fourth in ’88, and many more finishing in Boston. It has been fun; and I’ve enjoyed the travel, the people I’ve met, and the games I’ve seen.
a view of Boston Harbor on the way home…
Today is going to be a great day and it could be a million and six times better than yesterday. So, I’d better jump up, jump in, and seize the day. Making the Days Count, one day at a time, looking back and savoring the experiences, but with an eye on the present.
Do you have a bucket list? If so, what is it?
“Sweet Caroline”
Was in the spring
And spring became the summer
Who’d have believed you’d come along
Hands, touchin’ hands
Reachin’ out, touchin’ me, touchin’ you
Sweet Caroline
Good times never seemed so good
I’ve been inclined
To believe they never would
But now I…
…look at the night
And it don’t seem so lonely
We fill it up with only two
And when I hurt
Hurtin’ runs off my shoulders
How can I hurt when holdin’ you?
Warm, touchin’ warm
Reachin’ out, touchin’ me, touchin’ you
Sweet Caroline
Good times never seemed so good
I’ve been inclined
To believe they never would
Oh, no, no
Sweet Caroline
Good times never seemed so good
Sweet Caroline
I believed they never could
Sweet Caroline
Good times never seemed so good
Written by Neil Diamond
a great sign and good advice, and I love the colors of the wall it makes the sign standout, much like to colors in an art museum…
It’s Day 57 and I have a dozen days remaining in my summer break. I slept late this morning. Sleeping late is a luxury of summer or anytime when the following day comes without a schedule or place to be early in the morning. Sleeping late is a direct consequence of living without a schedule or maybe staying up late to watch the stars shine brightly in the summer sky, or return home from a family.
“Summer was our best season – everything good to eat, a thousand colors in a parched landscape.” ― Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird
Last night all three of us went to a concert by the band Chicago. B and I listened to them in our youth and the songs were part of the soundtracks of us growing up. O got a glimpse of the music her parents listened to as they figured out how to be adults. It was a fun concert, and the band finished their performance with one of their best-known songs, “25 or 6 to 4”, for their encore.
It was a late night and we got home well past midnight.
It’s Christmas morning and Fern and I are the only ones awake, really I am the only one awake. Fern is curled up in her favorite chair overlooking the lawn and the lake. It was grandmas favorite spot, though the chair has changed. Grandma passed away a little more
than five years ago but her memory lives on.
our Christmas tree with the reflection of the fireplace in the window… Merry Christmas…
We drove north to the lake Wednesday morning. O drove one car with Fern and B and I took another with Ivy. We’ve spent the last couple of days readying the cottage for Christmas and it looks and feels like Christmas. Snow is gently falling and all is silent on the lake and in the cottage.
This morning I came across a memory and tweeted it….
It’s the third week of self-quarantine and I am as hopeful as I was when I penned my last post, Abundance.
Yes, I AM hopeful. Positive. Confident. Certain.
When I started writing and blogging at Making the days Count almost ten years ago, it was a choice. It was a choice to make my day better every day, even when I failed or fell, or came up short. I chose to look at the ways I could do better. I am still learning.
After I clicked PUBLISH on Abundance, I called upstairs to my wife, B,
“Church at 11,” I made another cup of coffee and went upstairs showered and dressed for church.
It was a bright sunny day. It was a big blue cloudless sky. When I started the car, Coldplay’s song “Everything’s not lost” began to play.
My car’s radio and my iPhone connect and sometimes a song from iTunes begins to play when the car starts. iTunes selects a random song, most of the time I stop the music, that morning I let the song play.
….If you ever feel neglected
If you think all is lost
I’ll be counting up my demons yeah
Hoping everything’s not lost
The church we attend is a short drive and the song, “Everything’s not lost,” was almost over when I parked the car. Chris Martin crooned,
I don’t let it stand in our way
‘Cause my head just hates when I think of
The things that I shouldn’t have done
But life is for living, we all know
And I don’t wanna live it alone
That Sunday’s church service was uplifting, and I left church knowing that everything’s not lost
Since that service on the Ides of March, we’ve been to e-church and we will continue to do so until the COVID19 crisis is over.
my favorite stained glass window – there is light and everything’s not lost
In full disclosure, I started writing this post yesterday, and I am finishing it today on Wednesday. I am not playing an April Fool joke on you by posting a Tuesday’s Tune on Wednesday. Continue reading Tuesday’s Tune – Everything’s not lost→
My weekly challenge was to remember my favorite song from five years ago and listen to it. I have no idea what I was listening to five years ago but it certainly was not on the top 100 from July 2013. I had an idea, a better idea, and I went back 40 years to when I was 16; the summer between my sophomore and junior years in high school. That was the summer of all sorts of memories.
A post shared by Clay Watkins (@makingthedayscount) on
This past Sunday afternoon, we drove north. I had a driver for the first hour and the last hour. My daughter O is working on her driving hours and loves driving. It gave me time to go back in time – 40 years – to the summer of ’78. I checked the top 40 from July ’78. I recognized most of the top 10 but my memory took a jolt when I read #14 – Miss You by the Rolling Stones. That song took me back and brought back all sorts of memories and I found my song…. But first… how I got there.
I turned 16 in November ’77, but I couldn’t get my driver’s license I hadn’t completed the required behind the wheel driving training. Instead of taking driver’s ed during the summer, like all of my peers, I had been visiting by dad in England for five weeks. I took the driver’s training during winter break of my sophomore year and was ready to get my license in January of ‘78. January in Houston, Texas is cold, but not nearly as cold as January where I now live – there is no comparison.
I am the oldest in my family, so I was the first of the kids to get my license and the first child to teach my mom all sorts of lessons she and her sister probably did not teach their parents when they were growing up in the fifties.
When my parents divorced, my dad moved to Saudi Arabia and a year later he and my step-mom moved to London, England. Whatever he had, he took with him or put in storage except for the 1969 blue Volkswagen Beetle. It was stored in the garage. I had my name on it. Or rather, I had put my name on it.
this is my car, but it looked like this…it even had some very cool pinstripes
For a 16-year-old boy in 1978, having your driver’s license is cool, having a car a car is even cooler. Once I got my license, I began to drive the ‘blue bug.’ I could drive to work and back and had to ask permission beyond that. The little blue bug had air conditioning, but it didn’t work and the radio had AM only. I had a job and made minimum wage as a busboy and dishwasher at my next-door neighbor’s Italian restaurant. By March, I had scrimped and saved enough money to purchase an in dash 8-track cassette player and FM\AM radio and a couple of speakers for the blue bug. I had barely enough money leftover to buy two 8-track tapes – I picked Van Halen’s debut album and Jackson Browne’s Running on Empty. I listened to those constantly.
The blue bug was nothing brag about. Beside the AC not working, there was a hole in the passenger side floorboards caused by battery acid spillage. A friend of my mom’s helped with a fix and the radio and speakers were an improvement. To make up for the lack of AC the blue bug had side windows which could tilt inward and force air into the car. But driving it in the hot Texas spring and summer was pretty uncomfortable and perspiring was the norm. Continue reading Day 29 – Miss You→
Flashback to 1989, I was younger and living in the San Francisco Bay Area. I had roamed west in ’87 away from south Texas – yearning to make it on my own.
Roam if you want to
Roam around the world
Roam if you want to
Without wings, without wheels
Summers are for exploring and roaming. I am fortunate to have a profession where I have summers off and time to rest, relax, restore, and explore. Many folks think all teachers do over summer break is play, but that’s not the case most teachers are busy with learning or rethinking ways to be a better teacher. But that’s not what today’s Tuesday’s Tune is about.
Yesterday was American Independence Day. It’s the day Americans, like me, take to celebrate our freedom and independence. Many gather to barbecue and watch fireworks, still others, like me and my family, travel to be with family. We are by the lake, where we have celebrated the Fourth of July as a family for as long as I can recall.
Our family tradition began in after B and I married in ‘91, and with exception of a handful of years, I’ve been here on the Fourth ever since. At first, we celebrated with B’s parents and her sisters and their families. Then they moved away and they weren’t able to be here for the holiday and it was just our family and B’s parents. Then life intervened and her dad passed away in June of ‘14, then her mom followed in late ’15. Now it is us and we continue to get travel north and enjoy the lake with our friends we’ve grown to know along the lake.
We celebrated as we always do: we went to the town parade, then spent time on the lake, barbecue and enjoy dinner, and finished the day with the town fireworks celebration, and of course the traditional popcorn. Continue reading Tuesday’s Tune – ‘America the Beautiful’→
It’s been several months since I wrote a Tuesday’s Tune post. But, I’ve got a song in my head, thanks to some obstacles that popped up yesterday morning.
Yesterday was Monday and like most Monday’s I wasn’t looking forward to getting out of bed and embracing the new week. It had snowed most of Saturday afternoon and Sunday and the cars and roads were coated with snow. AND it was cold.
Sometimes you’re the windshield
Sometimes you’re the bug
As I always do, I get up early. Yesterday I rose around 4:30. And as usual I checked my e-mail while the coffee brewed and discovered the WIFI was down, so I re-booted the system, twice. The re-boot didn’t work. Then, I realized we had a service technician coming to change and upgrade our service and the internet and cable must have been turned off. Yep, the television signal was dead, too. Thirty minutes wasted spent trying to solve the problem. But, the coffee was good.
courtesy of How to Detail Your Car.
Sometimes it all comes together baby
Sometimes you’re just a fool in love
Fifteen years ago today, I was teaching seventh grade geography and the counselor walked into the room at the end of second period, she looked upset and out of sorts. After the bell rang and dismissed my second period class, another class entered, the students got to their seats, and the bell rang. Before the third period class began, the counselor read a short prepared statement that changed my day and told us that the course of history for our nation and the world had changed forever. I don’t remember what she read, but she left immediately afterwards and the room felt like the air had been sucked out of it. Somehow, we all made it through that day and over the course of the next few days we learned the true horror of that day.
our flag flies at half-mast today,
This morning, fifteen years later, 9/11 is a Sunday. This time it is Bible Sunday for our church’s third and eighth graders. Eighth grade is the confirmation and class and O waited excitedly for her Bible. She was born over a year after 9/11 and for her, 9/11 holds only the meaning that we have tried to share with her. She didn’t experience it, nor did she know what the United States was like before 9/11. She only knows what it is like now.
In April 2015, on our way home from Spring Break in Washington, D. C. we stopped at the Flight 93 – 9/11 Memorial near Shanksville, Pennsylvania. We will never forget.
This morning, I watched my sweet daughter O beam with excitement when she received her Bible and she could barely contain herself when she returned to the pew to sit with us for the rest of the service. She fidgeted throughout the sermon and helped me find the closing hymn in the hymnal – “We’ve a Story to Tell to the Nations.” We sang it as John Wesley instructed congregations in his Instructions for Singing from 1761, we payed attention to #4,
“Sing lustily and with a good courage. Beware of singing as if you were half dead, or half asleep; but lift up your voice with strength …
It was a wonderful service and the hymn was a reminder that though much has changed for our nation and the world, our principles continue to survive. May we never forget. Continue reading Bible Sunday→
Today, I am honored to have Patricia from jansenschmidt: Blogging From the Edge of Eternity guest post here at Making the Days Count dot org. I am not certain when I first ‘met’ Patricia, but I’ve been reading her blog ever since. I’ve followed her from northern California to Vicksburg, Mississippi where she moonlights with her husband at the historic Baer House and blogs at jansenschmidt BLOGGING FROM THE EDGE OF ETERNITY. Where imagination abounds, nothing is impossible. Indeed, nothing is impossible, it’s gonna be a great day. Thank you Jansen/Patricia. I’ll let her tell the rest of the story.
————————————————————————————————————————-
First of all, thank you Clay for inviting me to be part of your Tuesday’s Tune project. I am honored to be included, as I am a fan of your blog, primarily for its positive message.
You asked me to write about a song that gives meaning to me for making each day count. I chose “You Raise Me Up,” by the group Celtic Women because I feel certain it must have been written for me to remind me that, even though I lost my mom in 2008, she is still here, still supporting me and still encouraging me. She raises me up to more than I can be. Her absence reminds me to make each day count.
I never thought myself to be much like my mother, but I’m everything I am today because of how she raised me. So often I feel her presence pushing me on. I never would have said that my mother was particularly encouraging when I was a kid, yet I feel courageous today. I feel strong and empowered and beautiful because she instilled in me good values and the desire to do what’s right. As the song says: “I am strong because I am on her shoulders.”
I especially like this version of the song, because there’s a piano solo (I play because my mom played) and fireworks (one of my favorite things).
Again, thank you for this opportunity to share my special song. I hope it inspires everyone who reads this blog to never lose sight of the little things or take for granted the things that matter and, most especially, to make each day count.
