Ponderous thoughts I was pondering ...

Here is a portrait of the artist as an old man. Seventy down, more hopefully to come.

Ponderous thoughts I was pondering on the cusp of a new year, my 70th on this planet ...

** Yes, 70 is a big number. It's a scary one, too. Maybe because I don't entirely look my age when I look in the mirror (and many people confirm that), I can't equate that number to my memories of my maternal grandfather, who looked like he was 100 years old when he was in his 50s. That was probably the result of his service in the U.S. Army in World War I and the fact that he had been among the troops to be poison-gassed by the Germans.

Baby Me in 1954.

When I'm around the towns and I see people that I think to be "old," I have to understand that they are most likely to be younger than I am. It's very weird.

Perhaps my reluctance to "act my age," as it were, is because I still work part-time at jobs that keep me around young athletes. It's not as creepy as it sounds; I keep the proper distance and interact appropriately with them. Back in April, when I was hosting a TV show for Foxboro Cable Access interviewing four members of the state-championship basketball team, I just told the kids that if they felt in any way intimidated by the lights and the microphones, to just imagine that they're talking to their kindly old grandfather.

That got a laugh and broke the tension, but I'm sure the girls would have gotten over any shyness on their own. They're smart and strong.

But how can you not be affected in a positive way by youthful enthusiasm all around you? On Wednesday night, before the Mansfield girls' game against Braintree, a country song played over the loudspeakers. Immediately, several of the Hornets broke into dance in the stands, parodying a Western shindig. I had to chuckle. Just good clean fun.

How can you not be thrilled by this?

Maybe my surroundings play a role in my chronological confusion. I work in gymnasiums that were present and in use when I was in high school more than a half-century ago. I travel roads that I first remember from being seated next to my father as he drove them in our '56 Chevy -- and no, we didn't have car seats pointing in the wrong direction. Or seat belts, for that matter. I somehow survived. 

And yes, I live in my childhood home. I returned to it after a 44-year absence and made it my own, keeping it in the family name just a little longer. But I've changed enough things so it doesn't feel weird. It still feels like home, but at least it's now my home -- but with some subtle and important reminders of the wonderful parents that made it all happen for me.

I've been a lucky guy. I've never had many needs in my lifetime. My parents taught me the value of money and the hard work it took to get it (and a career as a journalist reminded me often about how hard it was to get it). 

At Lambeau Field in 2006.

I've lived elsewhere, in other towns and in other states, and traveled all over North America over the years, but home was still always where the heart was. And I still feel that way today, although thanks to my residences in other neighboring towns over the years, I've come to accept all of them as part of what tugs upon my heartstrings.

I'm still covering exciting events, trying new things and waking up every morning (or afternoon ... hey, I'm retired!) with a smile on my face and ready for what's next. I can laugh about both what's right with the world and what's wrong with it, all the while still trying to make things better, and not worse, for me and my friends.

That's what turning 70 means to me. Ask me again when I hit 80.

** I was today years old when I learned that to get paper checks out of the checkbook without making a mess of the perforated area, you first pull up to start the separation and then pull outward and away from the binding. 

Yeah, I still write paper checks. It's an old-man thing to do, I guess, but it also tells me when I can spend money and when I can't. 

** Why is it that I was able to go online and find accurate rosters for the teams played by the Foxboro High School girls' basketball team in that recent tournament in Florida, while here in Massachusetts, similar information is harder to find than the nuclear launch codes? Coaches, please put rosters on the MIAA-approved Arbiter Sports website. 

** I broke down and watched “Barbie” the other day. Didn’t think it was possible for me to not like a movie with Margot Robbie in it, but it succeeded at that. When does “Oppenheimer” hit the streaming services?

Local Santa Lisa Downs.

** The local paper recently did a nice series on "Local Santas," one of whom was Foxboro High girls' hoop coach Lisa Downs for her role as the long-time director of the Foxboro Discretionary Fund. If you've heard my podcast, "The Owner's Box" -- it's back to full strength and streaming on all of the most popular podcasting platforms, and links are available on this site -- you know that Lisa and I have talked in detail about why she took over the service upon the tragic death of her parents in an automobile accident many years ago. Her mom was the director of the Foxboro Discretionary Fund at the time of her passing.

The fund is similar to other programs in the area that help out needy families during the holidays, although Foxboro's is a year-round service. But of course, it's during the holidays when things really get cranked up -- and if Lisa's not already busy enough with her basketball duties or her daily job at the Sage School, she and other volunteers set enthusiastically about the task of trying to bring some holiday cheer to the less fortunate of Foxboro. I can't think of a better tribute to her mother's memory than the good work Lisa has done on behalf of the fund all these years.

The Sun Chronicle story mentioned that Lisa is considering stepping back from the Discretionary Fund work a little. She's definitely earned a break for all she's done and continues to do -- especially for the young people in Foxboro. Clearly, it's been a job well done.

** I'm not one for New Year's resolutions, but I do have a few things I'd like to be able to do over the next 12 months, and here are a few.

👉I'd like to be a little less nasty in my Twitter (or X) responses to the brainless Trumpers that believe that our former President was sent by God to lead our nation in the proper (i.e., white supremacist) direction. More like he was sent by Satan to completely fuck up our country and deliver it to hell on a golden platter.

Well, I guess I already broke that one. C'est la vie. By the way, I guess you know that means that I won't be voting for that fat, smelly asshole in the next election. 💩

👉I'd also like to resolve that my next car-buying experience is going to be my last. I just don't enjoy the search, nor the 60-mile drives to dealerships that advertise the perfect car for me -- only to have a salesman tell me, "Oh, that one went yesterday," when I get there. 

👉I want to let all of my friends know how much I love them and cherish their places in my lives. So many have had difficult times of late, either personally or befalling their closest loved ones. Even if it doesn't seem so at times, I'm still there for them. Always.

My inspiration for travel, "Route 66"

👉I still want to travel. Maybe to see some friends in other parts of the country that I might never see again, given the passage of time. I'd like to do it by car if I can, but I don't know if I have the driving stamina I once had. Plus, I'm not going to sleep in the front seat, and nor will I be willing to not change my clothes for three days in a row, nor stay at local fleabag motels. Could be expensive. And I have to admit, with so much road rage out there -- not to mention how Massachusetts license plates might be accepted in the Red States these days amid all this talk by blowhard mom's-basement militia groups about armed intervention in the 2024 election to get Smelly Don back in office -- I'm not sure it would be safe for me to drive through the back roads of Georgia or Alabama.

Time to get a wheel fixed?

👉Failing that, maybe I should break down and get at least one knee replaced. Younger friends that have had knees done tell me I shouldn't hesitate. I just wonder about how my replacement teeth and knees will someday be dug up by archeologists that will marvel at how well they survived my natural and mortal remains.

👉I'm going to stop spending so much money on online newspaper paywalls that don't deliver the product I need. The former GateHouse newspapers, now part of the Gannett chain, are at the forefront of this. Because their newspapers' print editions now have so little new content and such ridiculously early deadlines that it makes it impossible for them to cover high school sports at night, I'm not finding the results or information I need in the online versions.

But they are also running one hell of a scam. I tried today to cancel three subscriptions (over $30 a month) on their subscription websites, only to be told each time that "this service is not available at this time." Angry phone calls will be made on Jan. 2.

Yes, I want to support the survival of local newspapers. But how do you support something in good conscience if they don't deliver the goods? By the way, I'm not including The Sun Chronicle in that blanket condemnation. My former newspaper is still trying, against all odds, to get the job done. 

👉If there's any way at all this can happen, I want to watch the fourth and final season of "Babylon Berlin" on Netflix. The German TV series is an amazing look at the ending days of the Weimar Republic of Germany in the 1920s and 1930s, before the Nazis gained a controlling foothold and changed the course of history. It's seen through the eyes of a police detective with a moral compass that's occasionally skewed by his own troubles, and his occasional partner/girlfriend, a former "escort" in the wild entertainment district of Berlin that somehow manages to fulfill a dream of becoming a detective herself, something unheard of at the time. The first three seasons have already been shown on Netflix and the fourth has completed its run on European TV networks, but for some reason, Netflix is waffling about whether it will finally arrive on these shores. 

👉And finally, I resolve to be available to write another such column on December 31, 2024. Cheers to you all in the meantime.