Mrs. Walthall’s 4th Grade Class – a Soccer Love Story.


I haven’t posted a blog in ages…the toddler/lawfirm/school thing was enough to take up my time.  Today, I just wanted to explain how I feel about the “community” of  Boston, and why any of us feel so compelled to talk about this past week and the bombings of the Boston Marathon.  I think I just need to give a little homage to my beautiful City.

My first foray into education began with stepping onto a bus from my stoop in Brockton, Massachusetts.   All the way through the 3rd grade at Whitman Elementary (God rest its concrete bones) I spent my childhood.  We moved that summer before fourth grade to New Mexico.  It was a long way from friends; it was a moonscape town; streets changed from “Oak” to “Cibola”, from “Main” to “Dal Paso”.     My heart never left Massachusetts.  I moved back here, to Quincy (That is QUIN-ZEE to those of you not from here), and started a new adventure.  I took the “T” into work in Newton (a subsection of Boston) every day.  Red Line to Green Line to Bus.  I rode the dreaded 57 bus from Kenmore to Newton Corner every single morning and night – squished in my seat along a road marathoner’s run, to a ballpark where dreams live.  I spent St. Patrick’s Day in Southie, Fourth on the Charles, and two years in a row I took Patriot’s Day/Marathon Monday to stand and cheer people on as they ran the last stretch of Boylston.  I met wonderful people of all nationalities and ilks and felt the City’s pulse beat with mine.  I had my baby at St. Elizabeth’s in Brighton.  I spent summer afternoons letting my son breathe the fresh air at the Commons.  Jim and I moved to the Cape this past November, and every day we talk about moving back to the city.  We need the city, and all the beautiful homes and rocky beaches won’t change that in us.  Too many white people!  Too many retired people!  There aren’t any pot holes!  Why is a lobster roll so overpriced?  Why is everything so overpriced?  Who shuts down a CVS at 9pm?  – We say about the Cape.

Two bombs were detonated at the Boston Marathon on Monday, April 15, 2013.

Sometimes it is easy to get swept up in the sensationalism of it all, especially with social media in all its twitterverse fervor.  My best friend in New Mexico mentioned that she didn’t feel it was necessary to post about the incident, and she is right.  When you don’t live here it is different.  I realized that while this is a national incident, it isn’t going to feel the same to people that aren’t in Massachusetts, other than worrying about your loved ones being okay.  The thing is, when you ARE in Massachusetts, and you’ve spent even one day in Boston, your loved ones wind up being the people of Boston.  I think it was Menino (Boston’s long time Mayor) who said “Everyone knows everyone in Boston”.    It is true.  Literally, it is a close knit city, but there is also a “knowing” when you have spent time here.  Possibly unlike any other city.  It is “the city of neighborhoods”.  You don’t have to know someone’s name, but you know they probably like a good Dunkin Iced, they like the Red Sox, they say “How ah you?” with an accent, whether they have an accent or not.  I only moved here in 2010, but my Brockton classmates never forgot me – we’re even planning a reunion – I never forgot them.  You don’t forget Boston.  The Revolutionary War started here.  People here remember, they know history, they pull fiercely together to protect their own.  When first responders have a funeral, they televise it.  People line the streets to thank those that help us here. They support the IDEA of brotherhood of man.  It truly is a living, breathing City, and it becomes part of all those feet that pass the cobblestone and cross the Freedom Trail.  The city embraces you; The people of Boston make you one of their own.

I am one of their own, and all those injured and killed in this incident are my own.

I am Boston Strong.

So… I have been noticing a lot of political talk lately, and started thinking…..there must be an election or something around the corner.  hahaha.


In all this nonsense, AND OH LORD DO I HAVE MY OPINIONS, but…in all this nonsense we sometimes forget WHO we are talking about when we make these big sweeping generalizations of “people on food stamps” or “rich people” or “poor people”.  People are more than percentages.  So whether you are the 99%, or the 47%, or whatever, you must remember we are all 100% human.  Humans are kind of cool, when you get to know them.   SOME of those humans happen to be waiters and waitresses, pizza delivery guys and gals, and bar tenders.  I was a very proud, and not so rich, bar tender for years.  TIPS.  “These people” make their living off of tips.  “These people”  get a tax return because they don’t make enough in the year to meet the requirements for living wage.  The recent video of Romney discussing “these people” appears to be coming from a server table, where I’m pretty sure someone pouring his iced tea set it all up.  So with the recent comments made by Mitt Romney, regarding 47% of Americans that he doesn’t have to worry about, I give you 47% Saturday.

Just this Saturday, September 22nd, and OH GOODY the first day of fall…. wear your kicky boots out, stomp through some crunchy leaves, head to a bar/sub shop/pizza place/wherever , and thank the person that is waiting on you.  They are WAITING on you…which if you’ve ever done that job…it kind of sucks…but there are people out there who do it with a smile, and let you leave with a smile.  Maybe Romney doesn’t have to worry about those people, but I sure as hell do.  YOU NEVER PISS OFF SOMEONE WITH CONTROL OVER YOUR FOOD, DUDE.         So let’s join together in comraderie…not even really in a political sense, but in a human sense.  Regardless of party…    We’ve all been in the trenches working hard to get to something better.   Oh..well, I mean most of us have.  And there doesn’t need to be a percentage put on humanity.  Tip your server 47% this Saturday.


It’s just a really nice thing to do.   And Happy Fall, all.

you can join the tip jar revolution here:

I just had a brief discussion regarding disliking the B52s.   I always said I liked them, of course.  I mean…I entered the hallowed halls of Hobbs High School in 1991.  I graduated in 1994.  I started a Bachelor’s degree and completed college in 1999.  I am a child of the nineties.  The decade is deeply woven into my flannel heart,  the spirit gum on my Doc Marten soul.

Can you not adore a decade that brought us Clinton, the Internet, alt rock, gangsta rap, Must See TV Thursdays, body piercings?  CAN YOU NOT?!   No.   The nineties are an absolute perfect decade in my nostalgic and Zima dripped brain, and I will forever revere them.

IN THAT VEIN…  I was remembering when I went back to college for a second bachelors degree.  I had been out of school for over a decade, and it was a bit of a comedy of errors heading into classrooms where everyone opens their Macbook Pro and I ripped open my velcro Trapper Keeper.  I had a lot to learn.  We didn’t have cell phones when I was a Freshman in 1994.  We didn’t have “the interwebs”,  the computer lab was for serious geeks and people learning to send messages via dante.  There WAS a computer lab for Christ’s sake.

So newly returning me found a bit of a boost when I went along with our class van on a lab trip.  I was working on a degree in Entomology (the study of insects) and we were driving out to look at and catch critters in a chile field.  My professor was probably about 38 years old.  I was 33.  As we were headed along a dirt road he mentioned that he grew up in Athens, GA.


right???  So I say that to him, and we both excitedly discuss REM and the B52s.    This kid sitting next to me, who I happen to know is 18, because everyone in my class was 18, with the exception of one lovely young lady who was 17 and couldn’t sign a release form on her own without her parent’s permission, takes out one Ipod earbud to say “Who is REM?”

WHO.  IS.   R.E.M.           he says.

But here is the thing.  And I am saying this now, because my discussion of the B52s today cemented this for me.  Who IS REM?  At the time, I was so taken aback with …   horror… I was horrified that this kid didn’t know it was the end of the world as we know it… I was horrified that he didn’t KNOW.  The nineties.  He didn’t KNOW what MUSIC WAS.  REALLLLL GRITTY RAW HARD MUSIC THAT TAPS AT YOUR INSIDES AND DRAGS THINGS AROUND IN YOU UNTIL YOU BECOME ENLIGHTENED AND A BETTER HUMAN BEING.  LYRICS!!!!


Lyrics like   “everybody hurts….sometimes.”  “Think about direction. Wonder why you haven’t before.”  or  “Shiny happy people holding hands.”  or Dee Lite’s magical “I couldn’t ask for another…aye aye aye aye aye I couldn’t ask for another”.  “Hop in my Chrysler it’s as big as a whale and it’s about to set sail.”  “Rock lobster…ewwwahhh.”  “LEONARD BERNSTEIN!”  THIS SHIT GETS DEEP.     I mean….”Light up the stage and wax a chump like a candle…dance”

DANCE!  You can see where these are going right?   “Never trust a big butt and a smile”….(well alright, that one really is important). Don’t even get me started on my reverential love for the Lemonheads that I truly cannot explain.

So it occurred to me in no small way that the music of my generation has some really bad lyrics…and is often times super amazo awesome strictly because of the nostalgia of it.  Where the music transports you to in time is often what makes that music cool, and no way in hell was that 18 year old kid going to understand why we were so excited about Athens, GA.  I learned my lesson.  I will not try and push the incredibly poignant depth and one on one connection with Mother Earth decade that was the nineties on anyone anymore.  I will keep it as my own little magical unicorn starburst dolphin glitter decade that I feel it is.

That poor 18 year old.  He was listening to something on his Ipod and for the life of me I cannot remember what angsty male band it was, but I guarantee you he will remember, and have a hard time selling them in 18 more years.    Then maybe he’ll know who REM was.

Rock on 18 year old.   Rock on.

That is the link to the GOP party platform.  In discussions with my conservative friends today, I decided I should look at what they officially stand for.  All I’ve heard in this election has been “NO.  Not Obama.  No no no.”  And the “Party of NO” hasn’t shown that they have a solid unified alternate solution.       So I looked at this page and tried to decipher, just from the pictures and a little history on Republicans, what it is they plan on standing for in 2012.    Here it goes!


Jobs and Economic Growth Plan!

Inflation and Unemployment are key to lining our big corporate friend’s pockets! From 1980 on….we have encouraged this!


Foreign Policy, National Security, and Defense

We’re okay with black guys in the military now!


Energy, Environment, and Agriculture

Alternate forms of energy?!  Pfffff.    See that there?  That is oil.  Gasoline.  Texas Tea.   The smell of money, honey!


Healthcare, Education, and Labor

See these young people? They are already in debt from school, and should be in debt from private only K-12 if we have anything to do with it.  Those that can’t afford, can learn the important value of hard work. Impoverished kids should be laborers!  The sick one’s we can weed out without proper healthcare coverage.


Government Reform

‘MERICA!!!    We just want to run the government so we can give it back to the people…we swear!


Family Values and Faith Based Issues

YES!   Look at that happy hispanic family!  We are okay with this, as long as they can provide papers while driving to get groceries, and that little boy isn’t gay.   Mexican Americans are important to our party!!!  We are diverse!



So, I don’t know about you guys, but, that is what I got.

Hope you have a wonderful weekend.  No matter what your political ilk, please vote when you can, locally and statewide, and nationally!  It matters.  Know your values and opinions, and match them to a party that you feel fits your heart and mind.




This was a nice little smile added to my evening. Figured I can share with you. Funny, I actually was told quite a few of these things.


Stuff no one told me..

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Stuff no one told me

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