My year in review

"Maybe when you go back, Martin, you'll find that there are merry-go-rounds and band concerts where you are. Maybe you haven't been looking in the right place. You've been looking behind you, Martin. Try looking ahead."

                       — Dialogue from the Twilight Zone episode  "Walking Distance"

AUBURN, Maine — I discovered a worn Christmas card at the bottom of a box used for storing our treasure trove of holiday ornaments.

The thoughtful card was from my dad who is engaged in a cruel battle with Alzheimer's — a disease of the brain that dissolves memories and renders all human beings stricken with it helpless.

I opened the card and read the inscription: "Have a great holiday. We love all of you."

I know it wasn't his handwriting because he can no longer hold a pen, but it was something he would say to all of us each Christmas. He has always been a man of few words, but his loyalty and integrity is beyond reproach.

Of course, reading the card stirred all those memories of my mom and dad. My parents are no longer together. My mom passed three years ago, leaving us all with an emptiness that never goes away. Big Al still has home-run moments of lucidity, but there are other instances when it is impossible for him to speak in complete sentences.

I admire people who take down the Christmas tree and pack all those ornaments away the day after the holiday and move on to the next year without batting an eye. I look forward to the future, but I often find myself looking over my shoulder for the past.

The week between Christmas and New Year's Day is like purgatory for me. I am relieved the holiday has passed, but bundling up all that holiday cheer in plastic tubs and placing them on the cold cellar floor leaves me melancholic. I know another year has past that was filled with great moments in our lives. These memories have been recorded in photographs or on video clips.

I have been lucky to experience these moments that come so fast and furious and disappear so quickly before I can savor them.

That's why a camera comes in handy.

I am not a prisoner of my past, but I am a sentimental fool when it comes to my family.

This was my week to review a year that gave me hope but was also tinged with despair. 

Isn't that always the way in life?

Philadelphia Freedom

We threw caution to the wind and hopped in a souped-up, red Chevy Impala and cut across seven states for a 1,300-mile joy ride that took us all the way to Philadelphia and Gettysburg. My 17-year-old son served as our on-board navigator and acted as a chaperon for his two loving parents who acted like two crazy kids.

During our voyage to the City of Brotherly Love, we visited:

@ The Independence Sea Port Museum

@ The Liberty Bell (Did you know there is a crack in it? Really, there is!)

@ Independence Hall (It gave me a new appreciated for my founding fathers and strengthened my disdain toward a pathetic Congress.)

@ The Borse (Philadelphia's version of Faneuil Hall in Boston)

@ The Olympia (Admiral Dewey's ship that participated in the Spanish American War. I satisfied my son's dream by touring this behemoth battle wagon from the past)

@ Crossing the Susquehanna River. (We took the Pennsylvania Turnpike to Gettysburg, which is surrounded by the Allegheny Mountains)

@The Becuna (It is a World War II submarine that is docked next the Olympia.)

@ Ben Franklin's grave (We threw a few pennies on the big fellas' tombstone.)

@ Staying at the Wyndham hotel (Great people, good food and a four-stars stay as far as I am concerned.)

@Gettysburg (It was worth the 268-mile round trip from our hotel in Philly. It worth spending an entire day in 97-degree heat to check out Little Roundtop and the rest of the battle sites.)

@ Driving through Amish country (I appreciate people who live a simple life and refuse to complicate their lives with technology and greed.)

@Crossing the George Washington Bridge, seeing the World Trade Center One stand out above the New York City skyline, and then crossing the Ben Franklin Bridge as we headed into Philadelphia.

Revere Beach

We wanted to visit with Big Al and see fireworks on July Fourth. We found a way to watch three major pyrotechnic displays that lit up Revere Beach.

We sat on the wall as waves people shuffled up and down the boardwalk on typical hot night in the city. Fireworks could be scene from Marblehead, Swampscott and Boston, and the price of admission was free.

Beach baby

We hung out at beaches across New England and hiked trails at several state parks in the Pine Tree State.

World politics

Don't get me started. This Congress played a huge roll in making every American feeling like they were suffering from an endless stomach virus. There are reports that the economy is getting better. Tell that to the homeless, whose numbers continue to grow, and to the people who can't find a well-paying, full-time job. To top it off, the NSA is recording phone calls of all Americans. Is it subversive when my wife calls me at work to remind me to bring home milk?

The Future

I have no New Year's resolutions, but I have a pretty good idea what I want to do next. Right now, I am having a helluva time watching my son grow and become a fine young man. I am damn lucky I am married to a woman who has the patience and love to keep the two men in her life on the right track, and my dad still knows my name.

Beached on the Fourth of July

"When you finally go back to your old home, you find it wasn't the old home you missed but your childhood."

 Sam Ewing 

REVERE, Mass. — A wave of humanity shuffled past us as we sat on a stonewall facing Revere Beach on a humid July 4 night.

This was the place to spend an evening viewing fireworks from across the channel without the hassle of finding a parking space or dealing with a mob of rude people. Swampscot, Lynn, and Nahant were putting on blockbuster displays that could clearly be seen from Revere Beach. 

When we looked to our right of the beach, the town of Winthrop was also lighting up the skies just a few miles away, and yes, you could see Boston's incredible display, too. We watched it all from the comfort of a stonewall as gentle waves lapped the shoreline. There were also local, grand displays of explosives going off across Revere neighborhoods.

No Hatch Memorial Shell on the Charles River for three Mainers who avoid crowd scenes. The Boston Pops and its interpretation of the 1812 Overture by Russian composer Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky can transform a reluctant Patriot into a flag-waving citizen, but camping out two days to secure a front-row seat is not worth our efforts.

There were thousands of people wandering up and down Revere Beach boulevard as fireworks flashed all around us. Music blared from cars as traffic inched along the strip that is lined with several dives. State police patrolled the dark beach with their four-wheelers to keep the peace.

We were on a mission to seek out cool ocean sea breezes in the stifling city heat. There was a warm southerly breeze off the sandy shore, offering little relief to a sweltering public tempted to immerse themselves in the cool waters of the Atlantic.

A lot has been said and written about America's first public beach, and not all of it has been kind, but I still love the place, its fast food and the people who come from over the Boston area to spend a humid summer day.

The smells and crowds are notorious for triggering memories of the boulevard, which is one the best areas to jog or walk. And then there are beautiful woman who inspire any male runner or walker to go the distance. RHS teens staked their ownership of a stretch of wall that began in front of the MDC police station and ran all to the way Bianchi's Pizza. Kelly's Roast Beef was about a mile a way, but it was always worth the long walk to shell out a week's pay for a clam plate.

I was grateful to my family from Maine for sharing a wonderful July 4 and listening to my countless memories of beach that means so much to people who grew up in this city. We quietly watched the colorful flashes of fireworks up and down the surrounding shoreline on a typical humid night in Revere. There were hundreds of families doing the same.

Revere Beach has undergone so many restorations and transformations over a century. It endured the Blizzard of 1978, and even though the Cony Island of the East has passed into history, it is a part of me that I can't shake. Of course, I miss all those friends and family who once walked along its shoreline.

That's why I can't stay away from the place, especially on the Fourth of July.