Saturday, May 30, 2015

blog post no. 388 and another birthday

Here it is, May 30th, 2015…and another year has come and gone so quickly, I've hardly had time to catch my breath! I've been a slacker around the blogosphere for a while now, and it seems Buenos Burritos has taken a back seat to other pursuits. Plus, I've almost run out of things to say and stories to tell. (Those who know me well may find that hard to believe)

Anyway, May 30th is the anniversary of my very first blog post, as well as my dad's birthday. My first blog post was, fittingly, about him. You can read it here if you like. So, even though I'm a recovering blogaholic, I'll still hold onto tradition and write about him on his birthday.

Today would have been Dad's 100th birthday. During his time on the planet he saw a lot of changes, probably more drastic changes in the world than those of us alive today will see in our lifetimes.
Dad was an only child, born into a giant working class Irish family in Massachusetts:

When Dad was a kid, his chores consisted of emptying the tray under the icebox before it overflowed, and shoveling coal for the furnace. In 1915, radio was still in its infancy, electric lights were not commonplace, and whaling was still a big industry in New Bedford. People kept abreast of local and world affairs through letters and newspapers.

Dad was a big baseball fan, and his dual love of sports and writing led him to NYU and a degree in journalism, and set him off on a long career as an editor at some prestigious newspapers on the east coast.

He coached both my brothers in Little League, and turned all of his kids into lifelong baseball nuts.
As a kid, I remember sitting with him in Shea Stadium rooting for the Mets in the playoffs, and that year Nolan Ryan replaced Roy Rogers as my hero.

He attended as many of his grandson's Little League games as he could, occasionally wearing one of his favorite hats (In the team colors of course):

I don't think I could ever live up to his lofty standards, (if he were reading this post now, he'd take his editor's red pencil to it, I'm sure) 
but I'm also pretty sure he'd be pleased that I tried...

Happy 100th Birthday, Dad. I miss you.
You can read more about Dad here and here .

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