From Steelers Country to Red Sox Nation
Visits home are bitter sweet. “Home is where your heart is,” yet mine is torn as I walk to Gate 28 at the Pittsburgh International Airport with tears streaming down my cheeks. Boston has been my home for the past eight years, but I grew up in Pittsburgh. Actually, the “Rocks” for insiders. I don’t return often these days. In fact, with the exception of three visits this year, Christmas is usually the only visit. This past weekend was my High School reunion, so memories of life in Pittsburgh were particularly acute.
I arrived on Friday night excited for the weekend ahead. I always try to meet up with a few friends while I’m in town, and I like to check out my old stomping grounds. On Saturday morning, I began the day with a walk through my neighborhood. It was a beautiful fall day, and the route was very familiar. I’ve walked it countless times before. With each step, I carefully scrutinized everything around me noticing what changed, what was the same. Simultaneously, I recalled happy memories and random details from childhood through high school. As I passed a park, I remembered where I fell off my bike when I tried to ride up a steep ramp. We didn’t wear helmets back then. I survived that and also the time when I was sitting on the handle bar of my sister’s banana seat bike. I think another friend was sharing the seat with her when we wrecked on a gravel road. Survived that too with scrapes and bruises of course. As I walked past houses, I remembered who lived where back in the day. Most of the houses in my neighborhood have porches, so it was easy to know everyone. I also thought about all of the door to door fundraising I had to do for school and girl scouts. I remember exactly who bought anything I sold..cookies, hoagies, wrapping paper you name it. The woman who ran a home-based day care bought everything, every time. Whatever happened to her?
Growing up, houses and lawns were well cared for. Now I see weeds, overgrown grass and houses that need the TLC they once had. This isn’t because it’s Fall. The neighborhood has changed for the worse, and it’s a shame. Many of the families I once knew have moved. Some, elderly, have died. My home town is very close to the airport and downtown Pittsburgh. In Boston the houses would be unaffordable in this location. Here, they practically give houses away.
As I walked past my old high school, I thought about how much fun Friday night football games were. Speaking of which, my high school was on the local news while I was in town. Apparently, half of the kids on the football team have poor grades. What’s going on? That wasn’t the case when I was there.
Interestingly, as I was walking by my former high school, someone called my name from a car passing by. “Who could possibly recognize me with my hair straightened (it’s usually curly) and dark sunglasses,” I thought. I haven’t seen “E” in 20 years, so I have no idea how he recognized me, but he did. How strange is that? I couldn’t remember his name, so I had to ask. We exchanged a few pleasantries, and then we were both on our way again.
After my morning walk, I headed “dahntahn” to the Strip for the best outdoor market experience. Formerly an
Smallman street with glimpse of city skyline
industrial area, this neighborhood now boasts bars, restaurants including the famous Primanti sandwich, loft housing and a variety of stores. It’s the best place for produce, bread, cookies and “Stiller” memorabilia (Steelers for the GP). Speaking of cookies, they are a very important part of weddings in Pittsburgh. I thought everyone had a cookie table until I attended weddings in New England. Please, people. Consider having a cookie table at your wedding. It’s a great tradition.
traditional cookies
Anyway, I met a long time friend for lunch at Roland’s. We sat outside on the deck with a great view of all the weekend festivities. We caught up on life, family, work, mutual friends etc. After lunch, I met another friend at Kaya for Mojito’s. We discussed a broad range of topics including economic development and, of course, the art of dating.
This series of brief encounters has become typical of my visits home. The time I used to spend with friends on a regular basis has been reduced to a few hours a year. I’m grateful for that time, but I wish there was time for more.
From there, I dash home to get ready for the big reunion which was held a short distance from my mother’s house. I arrived promptly. A friend of mine arrives shortly after. She commented that she expected I’d be there on time when she and her husband arrived. Was I always so prompt? I guess I was. The first person I saw was a guy that I’ve known since second grade, but I haven’t seen since we graduated. We went to a small Catholic grade school together. He was always a nice guy, quiet. I would not have recognized him if I didn’t recently see his picture on Facebook. Overall, it was easier to recognize everyone than I anticipated. It was nice to catch up.
On Sunday morning, I hung out with my mother, and then I went to visit a good friend and her 3 year old daughter who has grown dramatically since I saw her last Christmas. From there, I head to lunch in Shadyside with a friend from college and her 3 year old daughter. I get along great with 3 year olds now that I know so many of them. 🙂
On the way home I pass through Oakland home of the University of Pittsburgh. Oh, the memories I have of life in this part of town. I smile as I pass my old dorm and the student union. Almost all of my classes were in the Cathedral. I thought about my favorite professor Ted Windt who passed away a few years ago. I noted that I should have attended his retirement party. He and another professor inspired my degree in Rhetoric. The campus looks great! I did note that Dunkin Donuts is now located where CJ’s Pub used to be. Instead of quarter drafts, students buy donuts and coffee there. Interesting. Many Thursday nights were spent at CJ’s.
I spent the rest of the day with my family. I reflect all of this and more as I sit at the gate waiting for my flight to depart.
Once I’m up on the air, my mood shifts. I am going home to Boston. I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed, and I crave a glimpse of the ocean. I start to think about work, plans I have with friends this week and spending next weekend in Boston for the first time since July! I am happy and smiling as I see Boston’s skyline from 6,ooo feet.
I luv ya black and gold. Yinz guys are great, but there is room in my heart for Beantown too.
I am home again.
Primanti sandwichesPenn mac
U2 360° Tour in Boston
My obsession with U2 started long before I attended the 1987 Joshua Tree concert at the Three Rivers Stadium in Pittsburgh, but it reached fever pitch on September 21, 2009. On this night, I attended the U2 360° concert at Gillette Stadium for the second night in a row. I had the best possible view of the band with my back against the rail of the inner circle! Dead center. It’s exactly where I wanted to be particularly after watching the U2 3D movie last year. It was an opportunity of a lifetime.
Bono singing a few feet away from me!
On Sunday night, I had seats in section 310 (stage right). The seats were good, but higher up than I expected. You could see all of the activity on stage, but it was necessary to rely on the monitors for details such as the expression on Larry’s face as illustrated in the photo below. 
When you are on the floor, you can take pictures such as this one of Bono. He was just a few feet away from me. See the difference?
Don’t get me wrong, I was thrilled to be at the concert the first night, but the overall experience, sound and view from the floor was by far superior particularly in a stadium. The last time I saw U2 live was during the Vertigo Tour at the Fleet Center or whatever it’s called these days. I preferred that venue. I had seats behind the stage, but it still felt more intimate than Gillette.
I should explain how I ended up with best seats I’ve ever had. First, I joined the U2 fan club to ensure I’d have access to tickets before the GP (general public.). Next, I opened a Ticketmaster account, so that I could execute the purchase quickly once the tickets were on sale. After that, I kept my eye on the schedule to make sure I was aware of the exact sale date for the US tour. As it turned out, I was in Europe when the US tickets were available, so I had to coordinate carefully due to the time difference.
It’s actually quite nerve wracking to purchase the tickets online. You can select tickets by best available or by a price point, but not by location in the stadium. Once tickets are offered, you have a minute or two to confirm your purchase. The first tickets offered to me were $250 each. Expensive and that didn’t even include Ticketmaster’s exorbitant fees. I admit, I considered it for a moment. Mostly because I feared that the rest of the tickets could have been sold out during the 30-45 seconds I took to make up my mind. I decided to roll the dice again. I ended up with Section 310 on Sunday and GA tickets for Monday night. I was pleased.
With coveted GA tickets in hand, I conducted research to determine my strategy for the best spot on the floor. I read blog, forum and twitter posts from other U2 fans. I also considered my attendance at Sunday’s show to be recon mission for Monday night. I wanted to be sure I understood the layout of the stage, the band’s use of the stage, crowd patterns and procedures to enter the floor. Yes, I clearly have too much extra time on my hands, but come on, we’re talking about U2. 😉
I should note that the traffic getting out of Gillette stadium was a nightmare. I didn’t get home until 3:00 a.m. after Sunday’s show. I was exhausted on Monday, and I had a long day ahead of me. I arrived at Gillette around 2:00 p.m. The GA line wasn’t bad. Perhaps 200 people in front of me which is what I expected. I immediately introduced myself to those around me. We spent the next four hours together in line. U2 fans bond quickly. We all had stories to tell about our favorite songs, concert experience etc. One couple next to me recently attend the concert in Dublin. Another woman had floor seats the night before, so she had good tips to share. A guy from North Dakota originally drove to Chicago for the first US show. He enjoyed it so much he decided to drive to Boston. He was young and had free time, so he called his parents to let them know he was heading to NYC next. Another couple in our group was from NH, and they were going to have a very long drive home and perhaps straight to work based on my experience with traffic the night before. With our lively conversation, time passed quickly as we sat in the hot sun.
Bracelets, which ensured our entry to the inner circle, were distributed to those of us in line. After about 4 hours of waiting, we lined up in corresponding rows of men and women to facilitate the security check process. After the security check, there was a line for ticket validation, and then it was a free for all run to the stage which happened to be the length of the football field. I was prepared to run as if my life depended upon it, but security personnel generally kept people from running.
I knew I had to get to the stage before everyone else in line. Fortunately, I’m a speed walker, so I was able to move faster than most around me. As I rounded the final turn inside the circle I saw an opening at center stage. Mission accomplished! I was thrilled. I grabbed the arm of the Scottish man standing next to me and jumped for joy. He too was a huge fan of U2, and he has traveled worldwide to see their concerts. He had an 8:30 a.m. flight back to the UK on Tuesday morning. Now that’s dedication. The man on the other side of me traveled from Santiago, Chile. He was heading to the concert at Giant Stadium next before his long trip home.
Truth be told, any spot in the inner circle would have been fabulous. When you are that close to the stage, you can see everything. Each member of the band was feet away from me on multiple occasions throughout the night. At one point, we were sandwiched between two catwalks. The Edge was on one side above my head and Adam on the other. I was so distracted by the Edge, I didn’t even notice Adam until my Scottish friend grabbed me by the shoulders and physically turned me around to see him. That’s when I made eye contact with Adam. I wanted to snap a few photos, but I didn’t want to miss anything. Fortunately, the woman standing behind me was kind enough to share the photo she took at that moment. 
The only thing that could have topped the evening would have been if Bono pulled me from the audience. The woman Bono selected was in my plan B location and happened to have long, dark, curly hair like I do. No kidding. It could have been me. Once on stage, Bono jumped into her arms. She carried him across the stage. Then they each stood across from each other on the catwalk, and Bono sang directly to her. Very lucky woman.
Random impressions…
Bono is charismatic and full of energy. He was in constant motion and always working the crowd.
Adam is cool. He was mostly stage left doing his thing like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
The Edge is fascinating to watch. With the distractions of Bono and the Edge, it’s easy to overlook Larry behind the drums, so it was nice to see him in front of the crowd during the remix if I’ll go Crazy Tonight which I love.
9/21 Details:
Opening Act: Snow Patrol
Main Set:
Magnificent,No Line On The Horizon, Get On Your Boots, Mysterious Ways, I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For, Elevation, Your Blue Room, Beautiful Day, Unknown Caller, Until the End of the World, Stay (Faraway, So Close), The Unforgettable Fire, City of Blinding Lights, Vertigo – Stories for Boys, I’ll Go Crazy If I Don’t Go Crazy Tonight (remix), Sunday Bloody Sunday, MLK, Walk On, One – Amazing Grace, Where the Streets Have No Name
Encore(s): Ultraviolet, With or Without You, Moment of Surrender
Am I a sailor yet?
The first time I sailed was about 12 years ago while I was living in Pittsburgh. A friend casually mentioned that a woman in his office was planning a sailing trip on the Chesapeake. I always wanted to learn how to sail, so I suggested that he ask her if we could go. Having planned vacations, I was familiar with the difficulty of getting people to commit with money. As I suspected, there was space available for us!
The sailing trip began at a marina on Solomon’s Island in Maryland. We made the five hour drive after work. The crew was to meet at the Tiki Bar the night before our sail. We only knew Sue the organizer, so we looked forward to meeting our new friends and our Captain.
I’ll never forget meeting Captain Dave. As luck would have it, he turned out to be the salty dog character at the Tiki Bar, with a gruff beard and dark tussled hair, that had one too many MaiTai’s. I of course avoided eye contact and ignored whatever words he slurred when he sat in the chair next to me that my friend temporarily vacated for a trip to the restroom. We had no idea he was our Captain at the time because we had not yet met any of the crew. You can imagine our surprise when we were introduced. Ultimately, Dave was harmless, but he was definitely a character with many stories. I heard he has since retired from his civilian Navy job (Physicist iirc), sold his boat and is doing well playing poker tournaments in Vegas.
Captain Dave was used to racing and winning on Krugerrand (a Morgan 36), so my introduction to sailing involved him yelling a bunch of commands that I did not understand. I barely knew the difference between Port and Starboard. He didn’t yell out of anger or frustration, it’s just what was he was used to from his competitive racing days. Nothing personal. Just urgency. I learned a few new things about sailing and the boat on each trip, but I admit we weren’t a hard working crew. To this day, I still enjoy sitting at the bow or under the main if I not at the helm. 
Over the years, I sailed the Chesapeake a few times each summer with the same group of people that I met on that initial sailing trip. I also made two trips to the Caribbean. During the first trip, we sailed around the BVI on a Beneteau 50 which is a common charter boat. On the second next trip, we sailed around the lessor Antilles including St Bart’s and Saint Martin on a catamaran. By the way, it’s worth noting that I had the best dinner ever at the Fish Pot. Well, up to that point in my life anyway.
I thoroughly enjoyed both sailing trips, and I could write detailed blogs about each. Ah, ok. Just a few short notes. Snorkeling is better in the BVI. I suspect this is because there are more moorings and the coral reefs are protected from anchors, but what do I know. Painkillers at the Soggy Dollar on Jost Van Dyke. The Baths. The Caves. Willie T’s. Enough said. St. Bart’s is exactly what you expect it to be except even more colorful.
I moved to Boston in 2002, and I’ve since spent many summer weekends on a boat in Newport, the sailing capital of the world and former home of America’s Cup. You want to sail? This town is drenched with experienced sailors, beautiful boats, and captivating views. It’s a small town, yet it is surprisingly international.
Fortunately, many of my friends are experienced sailors, and I have learned quite a bit from them over the years. They are very patient teachers. I’ve learned about navigation, maintenance, tide charts, safety, troubleshooting, and of course knots. I am grateful for all they have shared with me over the years. Last summer, I started racing on my friend’s 1926 Herreshoff S Class boat. On a classic yacht with a wooden mast, you don’t want to screw up. I was essentially ballast for the first race or two, but now I’m considered to be experienced crew. Progress! 🙂
I’ve learned quite a bit since my first sailing trip, yet when asked if I am a sailor, I always hesitate to answer. Compared to most of my friends and the sailors I meet? No. Learning about sailing is endless, but in my heart I know the answer is yes. Most sailors would tell you there is always something new to learn.
Best place to enjoy the view!
Biking along the Minuteman rail-trail
This afternoon I biked the historic Minuteman rail-trail from Davis Square to Lexington Center. I was pleasantly surprised by the diverse scenery along the way, and I wish I had brought my camera. When I lived in Back Bay, I used to ride along the Esplanade, and I thought that route along the Charles River would be hard to beat. I was wrong.
The Minuteman trail officially begins in Arlington, but you can enter it from Davis if you follow the disconnected path. The first mile or two is probably the most crowed with foot traffic and frequent stops to cross the street, but once you reach Spy Pond it’s mostly bikers and not that crowded.
I did not consult a map, so most of the time, I had no idea where I was or how far I had biked. Although, I now know the entire trail is about 12 miles one way. There should be mile makers along the way, but I guess regular users know the distances between certain locations.
The trail passes through many historic neighborhoods, so you see a lot of backyards with gardens along the way. Children who live along the path have it made. Not only do they have a great place to ride their bikes, but they also can enjoy one of several football and soccer fields and parks. I saw many tree houses too!
I am curious about the swamp I saw just before the meadows. The picture doesn’t do justice. The pond water is pistachio green and as frothy as a latte. It was completely still and seamed to choke the life out of everything except for the cattails a few stray Lilly pads. Strange. Too much algae? I have no idea.
I would love to explore the trails in along the meadows, but not on a humid, rainy day such as today. Given the natural surroundings, the trail is already polluted with gnats, mosquitoes and who know what else was flying around. Hard to avoid getting one in your eye, mouth or hair. Although, wearing sun glasses and keeping my mouth shut did help.
Next time I’ll ride the entire length of the trail, and perhaps I’ll stop in Lexington for lunch along the way.
Good Bye Back Bay, Hello Davis Square!
Well, it’s official. I moved to the “suburbs” of Boston last week. Although, I’m sure the residents of Somerville would disagree with that characterization. In any case, it’s the end of an era, and the beginning of a new one.
For nearly seven years, I lived on the third floor of a beautiful brownstone on Newbury Street in Back Bay. 
The center of my universe happened to be the block between Gloucester and Hereford Streets. Just around the corner from Tom Brady’s Comm Ave. condo at one point.
I have so many fond memories of this elegant neighborhood. I’m pretty sure I explored every inch of it over the years, and I loved what I saw every single day. I’ve seen many stores and restaurants come and go. Particularly on the corner of Gloucester. We’ll see how long Cafeteria lasts. I bet I’ve eaten more than 100 of gyros at Steve’s Greek Food. I”m not proud of this. 🙂 Similar to the amount of money I have paid in rent of the years, there are some numbers you should not think about.
I”ll miss the beautiful architecture and peaceful parks. Strolling along Newbury on a quiet Sunday evening or after a snow storm. Lighted trees during the Christmas holiday season. Great people watching. Convenient access to everything including the Esplande and the Boston Public Library which has a beautiful courtyard and a fine collection of art, maps and of course books. I’ll miss my regular visits to Lord & Taylor en route to Shaw’s.
Interestingly, after seven years, you know all of the panhandlers in the neighborhood, and you hope they are OK when not found in their usual spot. Some sing the same repetitive song such as the guy near CVS who sings, “Change, change, change, can anyone spare a little change, change, change.” Others just shake a cup. Most are middle aged men, but sadly, I’ve noticed younger people recently.
There are plenty of interesting characters in Back Bay. There is the artist that paints in front of Sonsi‘s wearing cut off jean shorts and usually nothing else in the Summer. There are the usual suspects at popular Back Bay watering holes. “Champagne Tony” to name one. Oh, there is a biker who emerges each spring and rides his trike down Newbury yelling moo-ve, moo-ve. Nobody really knows what he is saying, but they do know to get out of his way.
I’ll miss the annual Santa Speedo run in December. Men running in Speedos and Santa caps down Newbury Street. Yep. It’s a sight. Actually, women have joined the ranks in recent years. Not sure why they would subject themselves to such a spectacle.
Berklee’s graduation is pretty cool. The graduates parade around the block lead by a big band. I’ve always assumed it was Berklee, but I’m actually not sure.
My top five places for casual eats:
1) Piattini- great selection of salads, small plates of pasta and wine by the glass.
2) Trident cafe– Great place to read, people watch and have tea or another beverage of choice.
3) The Other Side Cafe- Decent sandwiches in a funky atmosphere.
4) Parrish Cafe- Regal Regis Sandwich is my favorite. Nice selection of food and drinks.
5) Bar Lola- for the outside deck and Sangria.
Mostly, I’ll miss being within walking distance to everything including many of my friends. Fortunately, I’m on the Red Line, and just a short trip away.
I look forward to exploring my new neighborhood, and I’ll write about my first impressions next.
Springtime in Boston
George at the entrance of the park
Spring has emerged as my favorite season in New England. It’s brief, but after enduring a long and often harsh winter comprised mostly of grey sky and dirty snow, this colorful season is a welcomed reprieve!
Bare trees transform into beautiful bouquets that I wish would last longer then a few brief weeks. In the Back Bay we have the privilege of enjoying two blossoms. First the Magnolias, Apple Blossoms, Dogwoods etc. bloom on the north side of the street then they bloom on the south side about a week later. Tulips- red, pink, yellow, white and orange are everywhere! This is particularly true in the Boston Garden.
On this particular Friday afternoon, I’m sitting in the Boston Garden with nowhere to be. I’m grateful that I have the time to sit and enjoy the peaceful yet entertaining surroundings while perched on the wall of the bridge. The pond is dark green almost brown and filled with ducks, swans and Canadian geese. The swan boats are out. Kids are everywhere laughing and chasing birds and each other. There are a few artists painting pictures. Tourists stop on the bridge to take photos; some stop to watch a woman who is spontaneously composing a ballet dance to the music a man is playing on his accordion.
As I listen to the french song he is playing, I can picture myself in Paris along the Seine on the Ile Saint Louis and just across from Notre Dome Cathedral. When I was there in March, eating Berthillon ice cream, a man was playing the accordion in the rain. Oh, the charm of Paris and Boston!
On this day, the park is filled with a mix of foreign students on a scavenger hunt, leisurely strollers, power walkers, dog walkers, and commuters on their way home from work or to happy hour. It seems as if everyone who stops on the bridge has a camera.
It’s a warm sunny day with a clear blue sky only divided only by a sky scraper flying in the center of it.
I occasionally sit in the park, but I mostly walk through it or around it. On this day, I am thoroughly amused by all that I observe. I saw a professionally dressed man, late fifties/early sixties pretending to tap dance as a man breathed into his saxaphone (U2 fans know this phrase). At first I thought he was drunk, but then I realized that he was just enjoying the music. You had to see him.
I’ve lived in Boston long enough to recognize the park musicians, but this was the first time in many years that I lingered long enough to appreciate them.
I’m glad I did.
Volvo Ocean Race: Boston
Ericsson 4 entering boston harbor
Sunday was a beautiful day, and after dim sum in China town, I walked to Fan Pier to check out the festivities associated with the Volvo Ocean Race.
Dubbed as the “Everest of sailing,” this around the world race launched last fall in Alicante, Spain. In total, the seven teams will sail over 37,000 nautical miles. Destinations include Cape Town, Kochi, Singapore, Qingdao, around Cape Horn to Rio de Janeiro, Boston, Galway, Goteborg and Stockholm.
The boats arrived in Boston late Sunday afternoon. The first to arrive was Ericsson 4. The teams had been sailing for weeks since departing from South America, so it was cool to be among the crowd welcoming them to shore. It’s very cool that Boston, the only stop in North America, made the short list of destinations. I recommend a visit to the Fan Pier. Sponsors of the teams have invested millions of dollars into the race. Puma City, for example, it a shop/bar designed out of cargo crates. Located across from the ICA, there is a fabulous view of Boston and the harbor from the top deck.
Other exhibits include video of the race, information about the design of the boats, etc. Check it out! It’s a perfect location for enjoying a warm day!
Amy
Ericsson Team: 1st to arrive in Boston
About
I have 15 years of experience advising senior executives on communications and marketing strategies to build brand, market share and to drive sales leads.
Travel is my passion. I have explored more than 100 cities in 16 countries on 3 continents. I am interested in people and places both far and near. From time to time, I update my blog to share my travel experiences.
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People, Places: Raison d'être 
