For those who don’t know, my horrendous commute from Tewksbury to Canton has morphed into a horrendouser commute from Tewksbury to Framingham.  It takes about the same amount of time, but now I have a number of other traffic jam options to supplement the route 3 to 128 fiasco.

For this evening’s horrendous commute I chose route 30 to route 128 to route 3 to route 495 to route 38.  This has the benefit of being the shortest route, while not necessarily the fastest, and avoids the Mass Pike.  However, one traffic light held me up for over 10 minutes tonight.  Damn did that suck.

Eventually though I reached 128.  When merging into traffic I looked over my left shoulder to see what was coming and it was clear sailing.  Then I looked ahead of me to see what was ahead of me (funny how that works, eh?) and it was four lanes of gridlock inching along at about four miles per hour.

The gridlock was caused by an accident at route 2, and like the good traffic reporter that I am (in my own warped mind) I managed to whip out le telephona de camera and snag this wonderful crap picture:

The final tally:  One police cars, two fire engines, and three cars smooshed together.  My drive home sucked, but it was better than those poor folks.

On to route 3…

I have a nasty habbit of driving really fast.  I try to control myself when other people are in the car, but when I’m solo I turn into lead foot.  I make the kessel run in less than five parsects, if you’re getting my drift.  Tonight while bombing down route 3 I saw two cars on the left shoulder and moved from the left lane to the middle lane.  Good move on my part, it was a two cop speed trap.

As I approached said speed trap I was no longer doing 85-90 as I’d been doing less than a mile before, but had slowed to only 15-20 miles per hour above the 55 mile per hour speed limit.  Of course one of the two speed trap cops began to emphatically point in my general direction and wave over toward the left shoulder.

Busted, thinks me.

As I pull into the left lane, headed for the left shoulder where said staties are situated, another car passes me on the left and the cop waves madly at him.

hmmm thinks me.  Was he even waving at me at all?

I’m not sure anymore, but I pulled over anyway… being the honorable citizen that I am.  I’m now stopped on the left shoulder, about 100-150 yards down the road from the speed trap.  The cop who was doing all the psychotic arm waving jumped into one of the two patrol cars, puts on his blue lights and pulls into the left lane… and goes bombing right past me.

Now what the fuck do I do?  The other cop had gone back to his radar gun and was facing 180 degrees away from me.  And I sit there like a twit.  I wait about a minute and see no more cops.  The cop I can see hasn’t looked in my direction at all.

Kick-Ass, methinks.

He was waving at that other car after all.  So I sit there waiting for a chance to pull back into the 65-70 mile per hour traffic from a dead stop… which means I waited for quite a while.  No other cops showed up, and I drove the rest of the way home without seeing any flashing blue lights… so I think I got away with it!

Can I have a, “WOOHOO” people?

So what else is going on?  Well tomorrow night Mike the Wisconsin residing Bass Player and his Wife of almost exactly two years and their yet to be born baby are arriving back in civilization.  A very busy few days are in the works.  There’s a chinese food trip tomorrow, a Border Cafe in Harvard Square pilgrimage which includes a long awaited stop at Pandamonium Books (which I think has moved to Central Square) on Saturday, a baby shower for the forthcoming Mikey Junior (assuming the baby is a he, if it’s a she it’s a Tammy Junior) on Sunday, and then 4th of July in Boston on Tuesday… although we’ll probably spend the evening watching the fireworks from the Cambridge side of the Charles River.  I expect the groovy camera to get a work out.

Then there was last weekend, where my baby brother got married.

There they are:  Mr and Mrs John and Mary.  I couldn’t be happier for them.  They done good.

I made the best man toast.  I’ve got lots of experience doing it now, having been a best man for Larry the MBA grad student / Electircal Engineer, Mike the Wisconsin residing Bass Player, and now for John the Short Brother.  (He’s a measly 6’3″ tall.  A solid 3″ shorter than me.  HA!)  The toast wasn’t that good.  It was probably a touch better than the one I gave at Mike’s wedding, but no where near the quality of the one I made up on the spot at Larry’s wedding.  I just wish I could remember what I said that day!

So I was best man, which means I was in a tux.  I’ve long believed that a tuxedo is the one and only look that works for me.  I usually look like a big fat doofus, or a general slob.  Put me in a tux though, and you see class.  A side of me that is usually hidden from view.

I haven’t seen any pictures of me from the wedding that show off my stylin’ look to it’s fullest, but just before the end of the reception Jamie (who just got a new job, congrats to you Jamie) managed to steal my groovy camera (she owns the exact same model) and take this excellent picture of me, just exuding sophistication and class:

So she yelled at me for a few minutes and then took this one:

That’s a very tired fat man right there, and the night was just begining.  It was just about 11:00pm there, and I still had 3-4 hours of playing chaffeur to a newly wed bride and groom.  It was totally worth it of course.  Anything for my little brother.

One final note.  I think you should all go to this site and listen to a great example of just how good Boston music can be.

WOAH!

Four Hours Eight Minutes and Fifteen Seconds!

http://www.geocities.com/robertjpjr/countdown.html

The downside of the Stanley Cup presentation is that now we have to wait for months before next year can start.

In the mean time I’ll just revel in the fact that I picked 9 out of 15 series winners this year, including the winner of the finals.

The Lock Monsters have never gotten past the second round, but this year a whole slew of our guys are Stanley Cup Champs.

Nice going Carolina Hurricanes.

While we’re on the subject of me being right, didn’t I tell you Cam Ward ruled the universe?  Now he’s got a Conn Smythe trophy to prove it.

Bobby Orr won it twice.  Ward-O is half way there.

(the pictures came from nhl.com)

I went into Boston again with the camera today.  I took 389 pictures.  My 0.5 gigabyte memory card was completely filled.

I visited Boston Common, the Public Garden, and the Esplanade.  As well as a few stops on the Freedom Trail.

We’ll begin with the Esplanade.  Here’s a picture of the Hatch Shell.  Today is Father’s Day.  In a couple of weeks we’ll be celebrating the 4th of July.  Independence Day.  This spot is ground zero for Boston’s 4th of July Celebration.  Nearly a million people will try and squeeze themselves onto this very spot.

Next I’ll give you a bunch of shots from the Old Granary Burial Ground.  This is one of the stops on the Freedom Trail.  I believe this is Boston’s oldest cemetary.  For some reason I enjoy visiting this site.  There is a lot of history here, as well as some really interesting artwork on the headstones.  This stone has a design that’s called a “death’s head.”  I think I want one of these on my headstone when my time comes.

Another image seen on a lot of the graves is the “winged cherub.”

There are a number of people who were critical to the revolutionary movement in Massachusetts who are buries in this cemetary.  Here are the best known:

Samuel Adams

Paul Revere

John Hancock

The next one isn’t a hero of the Revolution.  It’s the parents of a hero of the Revolution.  Josiah and Abiah Franklin.  The parents of Benjamin Franklin.  Ben is best known as a resident of Philadelphia, but he was born and raised in Boston before running off to Philly (via New York) at about 17 years of age.

You know it’s a small world when you find a gravestone that is almost 270 years old that could possibly be a relative of yours.

Two more pictures.  The first is a headstone for the vicitms of the Boston Massacre, followed by a relief from a monument remembering the Massacre that is on Boston Common.

Paul Revere is famous for having made an image of the Boston Massacre (that had little resemblance to the actual event) that stirred up a lot of bad feelings from the Colonists in Boston toward the British.  I don’t know if this is the same image, but I really hope it is.

That’s all for now.  I’ll sift through the rest of the 380 images and post some more later.

Or so I thought.

My friend Larry is taking graduate business classes right now and he was having trouble writing a paper and he asked me to give him a hand.  “But tonight is game 6 of the Cup finals… I can’t leave home, I have to watch the game!” says I.  Then I gave in.  Larry helped me out a ton when I was struggling through an electrical engineering class a few years ago.  If it weren’t for his help I might still be a college student, trying to get through that course.

So I popped a tape into the VCR and went to help Larry.

Fast forward to just after midnight.  I get home, rewind the tape and sit back to watch the Hurricanes win.

Or so I thought.

That was the worst performance by a hockey team I’ve seen in a long time.  During the regular season OLN jumped onto the Sidney Crosby bandwagon so completely that we got stuck watching an atrocious Pittsburgh team week after week on their national game.  I thought Pittsburgh was as bad a team as I’d ever seen… until tonight.  It was 1:00 am and I was yelling at the tape of the game every time a Hurricane player did something stupid.  Constantly, all game long.  It was horrible.  The final score was 4-0 Edmonton, and if not for His Goaliness Cam Ward it could have been 10-0 or worse.

Now to give credit where credit is due, Edmonton played the best game I’ve ever them play since the dynasty years. They were outstanding tonight.  Their fantastic effort made Carolina look worse than they really were… but Carolina was still really friggin bad.

28 minutes without a shot?  How is it possible for a team that’s one win away from winning the Stanley Cup to go 28 fucking minutes without putting a shot on goal?  That’s inexcusable.

And how the hell many times were the ‘Canes going to skate the puck into the offensive zone up the right wing and smack into three or four Edmonton players?  Could you idiots please at least try to dump the puck?  Did the initial game plan call for skating the puck in every single time?  Well news flash guys, it didn’t fucking work.

So now we go to game seven on Monday, and if the last two games are any hint we’re going to see Edmonton raise the cup for the sixth time in their history, and we’re going to see Carolina be the first team in 60 years or so to blow a 3-1 series lead and lose the cup.

Embarrassing.

See you Saturday for game 6.

Three periods down.

No winner has emerged.

I’ve got my overtime game.

Who will win it?  Stay tuned.

Exit… Stage Left (1981)
Grace Under Pressure Tour (1984)
A Show of Hands (1989)

They packaged them up into a box set (along with an audio cd of the Grace Under Pressure Tour soundtrack) called Replay X3… Rush does everything in threes.

I’m through Exit Stage Left, and now I’m moving on to P/G.

Now they just have to get off their butts and give us a new album!  (I know I know, they’re working on it… it’s just been four years since the last release of new material… I’m ready for more!)

The first game just ended.

How did it end you ask?  Well David Ortiz hit yet another uber-dramatic bottom of the ninth inning walk-off home run.

I’ve been a Red Sox fan for as long as I can remember, and prior to 2004 I was a typical cynical defeatest Red Sox fan.  Then along came David “Big Papi” Ortiz and his seemingly endless string of game winning home runs.  Now the definition of Red Sox fan has to be rewritten.  How can you be cynical and defeatist when Ortiz keeps snatching victory from the jaws of defeat?

It’s getting to the point where we are so used to Ortiz saving our bacon that when the day comes that he fails to win a game in uber-dramatic fasion we are going to be devastated… even though the odds are that he will fail.  We’re so accostomed to him not failing that we can’t imagine anything but success when he comes to the plate with the game on the line.

Papi… you’re spoiling us.

Keep it up!

Red Sox 5 – Rangers 4

Edmonton wins game three by the score of 2-1.

told ya so

One thing about this series is pissing me off.

This is it for Hockey.  After this series there’s nothing until October.  (pre season doesn’t count in my book)  What that means is, I want this series to last.  I want seven games.  I want seven overtime games.  And therein lies the source of my discontent.

All three games so far have been really good games.  Game two was a 5-0 Carolina win, so by the mid point of the third period it was all over except the Edmonton cheap shots.  Games one and three were both very close.  In both cases I was sitting in front of the tube all geared up for some overtime.  Only to have the game winning goal scored in the waining moments.  In game three tonight the winner was scored with just over two minutes left.  In game one on Monday the winner was scored with a whopping 31 seconds left.

Why?  Why can’t these frigging teams give us some overtime?  Tonight especially!  It’s a Saturday, no work tomorrow, go to overtime damn it!

Other than that, everything is going according to my predictions, muahahahaha.

I can read the (hockey) future!