He Wore Blue Velvet

I'm still in sunny Santa Monica, and TH is back in cold snowy Boston, so we haven't been on any recent dates. But there is something I desperately need to get off my chest. (or more accurately....off of TH's chest).

In 1996, our family spent the Christmas Holiday break in Alberta, Canada. I have many fond memories from that trip that I will remember and treasure always:

• Our son J was playing for Team USA in the World Under-17 Hockey Championships;
• Our son B was on break from Tulane and joined us on the trip;
• We met the O family from Amherst, NY who instantly become dear friends - both sons later lived with us at separate times while in high school prior to successful collegiate and pro hockey careers;
• I saw the northern lights for the first time;
• and the Rocky Mountains;
• I visited the most beautiful place I have ever seen on this earth - Lake Louise, Banff, in winter;

There were, however, some memories from that trip that I'd just as soon forget:

• I shopped at the world's largest mall in Edmonton, and didn't buy one thing;
• It was so cold that we had to plug in our rental car every night so the engine block wouldn't freeze;
• The hockey team did not do so well;
• and....(drum roll) TH wore Blue Velvet

Okay, I'm lying. It wasn't blue velvet. It was actually blue velour. Navy blue velour shirts. Two different ones. And I actually bought them for him.

In 1996, we didn't yet have internet access and the world was a much larger place than it is today. When we heard that our son would be playing in Alberta, Canada...we instantly pictured Siberia. There was no weather channel dot com where we could look up the ten day forecast. At best we had a few almanacs from the library, some AAA travel guides, and word of mouth from a few hockey coaches who had traveled there before us. Two words stood out....bitter and cold.

And we didn't have the wardrobe to withstand those temperatures. So I went shopping and purchased skiwear, hats, long johns, mittens, polar fleece, corduroy, scarfs, shearling, wool...

...and two navy blue velour shirts for TH. I was walking through Filene's (boy do I ever miss that store), saw the shirts and thought they would be a warm addition to TH's wardrobe. He loved them, and wore them repeatedly on the trip.

And when we returned home.

And for the rest of that winter.

And the following year, as soon as the temperature dipped slightly in the fall, there they were....his favorite shirts.

And the year after, from early autumn through late spring, TH wore his blue velour.

And every single year since. FOR FIFTEEN WINTERS.

If you have ever seen TH at any time from October through April, I guarantee you have seen him in one or both of these blue velour shirts.

oh....and he doesn't wear them just once or twice per season....he wears each one at least once, if not twice, PER WEEK!! 

On our last date, when we went out to eat after snowboarding, we had a long discussion about these shirts...because of course he was wearing one at the time. I begged him to please retire the shirts. TH recently had a birthday and we bought him some great casual attire, so it's not like he doesn't have anything else to wear.

But, No, he won't retire them, he tells me. He loves them. They are warm, and they are still in great shape. All the more reason, I cajole, to donate them to a homeless shelter where they will be appreciated. But TH won't let me donate them. Or throw them away (my first choice).

I try to hide them in the bottom of the clothes hamper, and if I'm doing the laundry I will purposely omit them from the wash. But TH is very good about sharing the laundry duties, and as soon as he runs low on T-shirts, or underwear, or blue velour shirts....he will be down the basement washing clothes.

So, dear reader, I ask you....what's a wife to do?

We haven't survived 35 years of marriage without compromise. And at this stage of the game, I've learned to pick my battles...and this definitely isn't one worth fighting over.

But come on now....seriously? 15 years of blue velour?!

And I'll guarantee he's worn them repeatedly the entire week I've been away.

I think I finally understand the closing lyrics when Bobby Vinton sang, "And I still can see blue velvet, through my tears!"

Date #7 - It's All Downhill

Long before we became a hockey family, we were downhill skiers. We skied when we were dating, and we continued skiing after we were married and had our son B. We had our own equipment (back when skis had safety straps, LOL). But once hockey took over our lives, skiing took a back seat. I can only remember a handful of times that TH and I skied together after son J was born. TH owned several businesses and he had very few days off, so usually my friend MC and I took our four boys skiing, but that decreased as the older boys approached their teens.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I had a bucket list long before they were popular. However, mine was called a "Fast Forward to 50" list....but unfortunately I wasn't able to check all 50 items off the list between my 40th and 50th birthdays, so thus it has now morphed into a bucket list.

One item on my wish list was to SKI IN COLORADO. It had always been a dream, and I was able to check that off in November 2000 when our son J was playing hockey for BU in Denver. MC and her husband JC joined us on the trip, and we stayed an extra day so we could ski. Well... MC and I skied... while TH and JC went to the casino. However, as wonderful as that experience was, it was also incredibly painful. I think it had been at least 12 years since I had last skied and I was SO out of shape, my knees were throbbing. But I had never skied on such beautiful fluffy powder and I'm still so grateful for the opportunity.

One of the other items on that original bucket list was SNOWBOARDING. How difficult would it have been to check that off the list? But somehow, I never got near a mountain again in the next ten years after Colorado. When son J moved to California, he took up the sport, and on many of my visits he offered to teach me but (really?) when I go to Southern California the last thing I want to look at is... snow.

The crazy thing is that we live 20 minutes away from a ski area, The Blue Hills. True to its name, it really is just a big hill on the outskirts of the city, and what better place to learn to snowboard? So last year I was determined to learn before the winter was over, but I waited for a warm day. On March 17th, which is a school holiday in Boston (Evacuation Day), I dragged out my skiwear and drove to the Blue Hills... only to discover that the ski area had closed for the season two days before. HaHa.

Oh well...as long suffering Boston sports fans, we know "there's always next year!"

Now this winter, as we were starting to plan our 35 dates, imagine my shock when TH suggested we go skiing together. Really?

This is a man who hates the cold, he's passed his 60th birthday, he hates being out in the cold, he's had a heart attack, he hates being cold, and it's been more than 20 years since he last skied.

It just so happens that on the same day TH recommended this date, in my email was a great discount deal from BuyWithMe.com for the Blue Hills Ski Area. I didn't hesitate, lest TH changed his mind. For $35 each, I purchased vouchers for lift tickets, equipment rentals, and lessons. And they could be redeemed for skiing or.... (wait for it) snowboarding. 



YES!





When I suggested to TH that we both try snowboarding, he emphatically said NO.

Bummer. Will it still count as a date if TH is skiing and I'm snowboarding? If we are in two separate classes? If we are on different parts of the hill? We agreed that it would count because, after our respective lessons, we would meet up and spend the rest of the date together.

Well last weekend the weather was perfect. After back-to-back-to-back blizzards, and temperatures in the single digits, the Sunday forecast called for bright sunshine and temps above the freezing mark. The ski area was only open until 5, so we arrived at 9:15 in time for the 10 am lesson.

However, the parking lot was completely filled. The annoying thing was that there were two attendants at the entrance that let all the cars drive in and snake their way through to the exit, where THAT attendant told us it was race day. When we asked where we could park, he just shrugged and told us we were on our own. We tried two more lots, but they were both filled and the attendants warned us against parking on the road, where they towed.

Strike Two for snowboarding at the Blue Hills. So home we went, pissed off, with no other plans for the day. I'm not sure why we didn't drive to the next closest ski area an hour away.

By 11:30, however, I was restless and still in my ski layers. I called the ski area to find out when the races ended, and if the parking situation had improved. I was told to come on down because the races would end at noon, and most skiers had purchased morning lift tickets only that expired at 1. So back we went.

When we reached the counter to redeem our vouchers, the teenage girl asked if we were skiing or snowboarding. One of each, I told her, just as TH interrupted and said, "No, we're both snowboarding."
Wow, really? When I looked at TH curiously, he just shrugged and said, "Why not?" And he was even so brave as to not request a helmet.

First stop, boot rental. Once again I had brought three pair of socks and tried not to think about the persons who wore those boots before me. But, LOL, when they gave us the boots, it was a little embarrassing to admit to the cute teenage boys that we had no idea how to lace them up or tighten them.

Next stop, board rental. The first thing the old guy asked was, "Are you regular?...or goofy?" Of course, TH chimed right in and answered, "Oh, I'm definitely goofy!" Normally I would agree with that statement, but turns out we were both regular (that means you lead down the hill with your left foot at the top of the board).

On to the lesson. They gave us our own instructor... probably because we were the oldest in the snowboard group and would have definitely slowed down all the 20-somethings who were waiting to learn. Of course our teacher, Matt, was only in high school himself. But he was very patient with us and loved the idea that he was part of our 35 dates.

He taught us how to put our boards on, and ride to the top of the Bunny Hill....on a conveyor belt... right next to the magic carpet ride that the little kiddies rode to the Munchkin slope. Ha Ha.

With Matt's help, we made it down the hill several times before the hour lesson was over. And then we were on our own. Once we were up on the board we were fine, but the struggle was getting up on the board.

For those of you who have never tried snowboarding...you ride the lift with just one boot strapped on. When you get to the top, you have to sit on your ass, strap your other foot in, and then attempt to stand up (with nothing to hold onto) without toppling over. I spent many hours studying the young snowboarders around us and it amazed me how effortlessly they were able to move from their butts into a standing position in one effortless motion. But we just couldn't do it. So TH and I had to help each other up every time.

Once we were on our way down the hill, it was awesome. The sun was shining, there was no wind, it was a great day to be on the slopes. I WAS FINALLY SNOWBOARDING! I could have stayed out there for hours. Unfortunately, TH's calves were cramping so he called it quits after several runs. But, being the great guy that he is, he hiked back up the hill with me and stayed up there to help me get up on the board every time.

About an hour (and a few face plants) later, I also had to concede because my butt was sore. (Who would have thought I didn't have enough padding there? LOL) Also killing me was the fleshy part of my palms, just beneath my thumbs...what is that part of the hand called? Whatever they are, they took the brunt of my falls that day.

This was my favorite date so far. It was one of those rare occasions where you laugh all day and fall in love all over again. No bickering. A perfect day.

And our date wasn't over. After we returned our equipment and dragged our tired old bodies back to the car, we went out to dinner. Nothing like outdoor activity to stimulate your appetite.

TH's birthday was the week before, and he had a complimentary coupon for a free entree at Isabella's in Dedham. Since we were in the neighborhood, we decided to cash it in. Two of the servers there also work in the school department, and one of them, D, was working that evening so she took good care of us. TH had meatloaf, and I had a wonderful salad with grilled shrimp, preceded by an absolutely delicious butternut squash soup. Ah...did I mention this was my favorite date.

We skipped dessert because the champagne and wine had made us pretty mellow, and we were stifling yawns by the time the check arrived. A perfect ending to a perfect day.

When I spoke to son J the next day, I told him how much we'd loved snowboarding, but explained the difficulty I had getting on the board (I even tried it at home and still couldn't get to a standing position from sitting on the floor...it was impossible). That's when he told me that, at the top of the mountains, they have benches to sit on and fasten your boards. He had NEVER sat on his butt in the snow to strap on. Are you kidding me?!?! Thanks for the tip, Matt. It was still fun....but next time I'm taking the lift to the top.

This will be our last date until March. Our grandbaby M arrives this week and we plan to spend every waking moment with him, when we're not working. Then I will fly back to California with them for the last week of the month...so, unless TH takes separate dates while I'm away, the tally will remain at seven for now.

And if anyone has any great date ideas....we're open to any/all suggestions.

But don't go too far away. Check back often because I have more tales to tell (about bickering and blue shirts). Stay tuned.

Date #6 - Marriage on the rocks (with lots of ice)

For 25 of our 35 married years, we spent more time in ice rinks than anywhere else on this planet. We probably watched our sons skate in 48,000 games and practices, and logged several hundred thousand miles traveling to many hundreds of rinks, in at least 30 different US states and four Canadian provinces. Some of that might be an exaggeration, but you get the picture....we spent a lot of our waking moments in rinks.

And can I tell you that those rinks were cold?
Ice cold!

You've all heard the stories about hockey parents: out shoveling in the dark to be at the rink before 5am, driving to Quebec in a blizzard, trying to tie skates when your fingers are frozen claws, standing on concrete so cold your toes might sting if you'd had any feeling left in them, skipping a day at the beach to pull on overcoats and gloves, having your snot hang in icicles from your nose, dribbling hot chocolate down your chin because your hands won't stop shaking or your teeth chattering....well those stories, dear readers, are not just romantic folklore. That was our life. Been there, done that....over and over and over again!

I'm sure you know the definition of insanity (doing the same thing over again while expecting different outcomes)...that was us, INSANE. But the silver lining was that we had plenty of company in the deep freeze, they are now life-long friends, who shared the asylum with us. Somehow we managed to convince ourselves there was no place else we'd rather be...that's MY definition of Insanity!

Can I tell you about the rinks? Did I mention they were cold? Some far more than others. The community-owned rinks were pretty severe, but by far the worst offenders were the private school rinks... Dexter, Fessenden, Milton Academy, St. Seb's. They were worse than barns....a barn would have been an improvement. Milton only had three walls! Dexter was a Coleman cooler with aluminum sides. Seriously, these schools charged a zillion dollars for tuition, had billionaire alums and benefactors, and they couldn't afford to insulate their rinks? But at least they had rinks on campus. Our younger son's school, Thayer, didn't even have its own rink....and the private facility where they skated, Pilgrim Arena, was just another fancy icebox.

But lo and behold, just as our sons were aging out of youth and high-school hockey, newer rinks were built that actually took pity on the frostbitten parents. Rinks today have Dunkin Donuts (Bridgewater) and warm lounges with adult beverages in the arena and shopping malls next door (Marlboro). But unfortunately our sons were born a decade too early and we didn't get to enjoy the luxury of the new and improved private school rinks. Milton Academy, Dexter, Andover, BB&N....they all built brand new sports complexes. St.Sebs renovated and insulated their arena. and Thayer Academy moved their game to a brand new sportplex in Canton.

Now when one of my dear high school friends (MJ) heard about our 35 dates, she recommended a hockey game. Her younger son, who has the same name as our younger son, is now a student at Thayer and she thought we'd enjoy strolling back down memory lane to watch the black and orange play. When I told TH, he loved the idea. (Did I mention all those hours in the cold numbed our minds and killed off many brain cells?)

However, when MJ sent us the link to the team's schedule, we discovered there was only one game we could attend. It was an Away game against Roxbury Latin and it was being played at Dexter. Had this been 15 years earlier, we would have passed on the opportunity to watch one more game in that frozen tin can. But we didn't hesitate because Dexter now has a beautiful (warm) new sports arena.

We were quite impressed as we drove onto the campus where there is now a grand planetarium as well. And we were able to park on the roof of the complex and take an indoor staircase two flights down to the bleachers. Now THIS is how to watch a hockey game.

We didn't see our friends in the stands, but we watched the players warming up to see if we could pick out their son. Just as we realized that the home team was wearing Dexter sweaters, we heard someone behind us ask where the Roxbury Latin team was playing. We also heard the dreaded answer: "Oh, they're playing Thayer... across the street... in the old rink."

TH and I just looked at each other and grinned like fools. We didn't say a word, just followed that man out the door, across the street, down the ramp, and into our worst nightmare. The OLD Dexter rink.

It was like stepping back in time. Nothing had changed. It was still brutally cold, and you had to stand on aluminum bleachers (with no backs) to get your toes off the floor and to (barely) see over the safety glass.
And MJ never showed, she was in Nashville visiting another son, but her husband JJ soon joined us and it was good to see him.

Once we got over the absurdity of the situation, we did enjoy watching the game. Our son's old athletic director was behind the bench, and MJ's son played a phenomenal game. He has incredible speed and great finesse, although he did get a penalty which brought back fond memories of our own 'Jack in the Box.' He's one of the bigger players on the team, and I have a feeling we'll be watching him play more often (in warmer rinks, of course). Here's a photo of #28.

Turns out that he was not the only player we knew on the team. There were three other players (from both teams) with South Boston connections, so we enjoyed cheering for this game. But one thing TH and I both noticed....we were pretty much the only spectators clapping. It was the quietest crowd I'd ever heard! The game was a 4-0 shutout in Thayer's favor, but you'd never know because neither side was cheering. Are today's hockey parents so pampered by their plush new rinks that their hands froze inside their pockets when they experienced old-school hockey?

When that final buzzer sounded, we couldn't get out of there fast enough and into our heated car where we attempted to get the blood circulating in our extremeties again. The date was far from over, however, as we hadn't eaten yet. But first we had to make a stop at a wake in Cambridge for the mother of TH's co-worker. Did I mention this was a Friday nite? And that we had to travel from Brookline to Cambridge at rush hour on snow-clogged streets that were mostly reduced to one lane? Needless to say, we had PLENTY of time to thaw our fingers and toes.

After the wake, we drove through Inman Square and we were so hungry that we stopped at the first restaurant that had a parking space out front. Turned out to be a very good choice: S&S Restaurant.
This restaurant has apparently been open since 1919, and it has a genuine kosher deli in addition to many other menu selections. We arrived around 6:30 and they seated us in the lounge area, where we quickly noticed that every patron, every server, even the lovely barmaid, had grey hair. I almost expected them to ask us for senior citizen IDs. The couples sitting at the bar appeared to be regulars that knew each other and dined there often. I think I would enjoy hanging out with that crew if we lived closer.

The champagne was served by the glass and it was just "eh", but my meal was delicious. I had crab and shrimp cakes in the most delicious lemon sauce, with butternut squash. TH had merlot and a Rachel (LOL). He was most excited about the half-sour pickles. Then we shared a molten lava chocolate cake with whipped cream and ice cream. Delicious. I swear I would eat liver if it had whipped cream on it...can never get enough!! I highly recommend the S&S Restaurant if you are ever in Inman Square.

I think, however, we may have to stop including restaurants as part of our dates, because it's hard to be good when there are so many delicious (fattening) options to wash down with wine. And TH rarely passes up dessert, that of course I need to sample. With all this snow, we can't ride our bikes or take walks with our grandson....so unless we're shoveling, we are pretty sedentary in the winter.

What's that, you say.. visit a gym?

What's that?