To The Tables Down At Yorkside… (Wherever That May Be)

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The Game Yale HarvardThe Game. For generations, it has been referred to as that. Not the “Yale Harvard game” (or alternatively, depending on your home team, the “Harvard game” or the “Yale game”). No. It’s simply “The Game.”

That tells you everything you need to know. There may be other contests throughout the fall sports season. There may be other seasons throughout the year. But only one singular event towers above all. It is the ultimate game (or at least it used to be—but more on that in a moment) of the Ivy League football season. It is the world’s second-longest continuous football rivalry (behind only Yale-Princeton). Students, alumni, and affiliates of New Haven and Cambridge eagerly await the finale between Yale and Harvard.

But it’s not just “a” game; it is “the” game, as in “The Game.”

People don’t go merely to watch a classic eleven-on-eleven gridiron clash. They go for Continue Reading “To The Tables Down At Yorkside… (Wherever That May Be)”

Quenching Thirsts With Bud, Pepsi, And The Arch That Defines America

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Gateway to the WestIt turns out the Gateway to the West isn’t all that different from any other gateway. It allows travel in both directions. Whether heading in or out, all travelers seek the same thing: to quench their thirst.

The thirst they wish to slake can include many things. It can be physical, like food, drink, or air conditioning. It can be emotional, like happiness, a sense of belonging, or simply a good joke. Finally, it could be spiritual, like being closer to God, Country, or the Green Bay Packers.

Americans grew up trained to satisfy their thirsts. It doesn’t matter which part of the country you come from; the grass is always greener on the other side. Chances are, if Americans see a doorway, they’ll eagerly pass through it. Such a portal always signals a better place, a better future, a better life.

Perhaps that’s the purpose of the West. It symbolizes something new, a place where dreams can come true.

Or am I confusing the promise of the American frontier with Hollywood?Continue Reading “Quenching Thirsts With Bud, Pepsi, And The Arch That Defines America”

Gold And Ghosts Of The Weird And Wild West

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Wild WestWhisper “Wild West” and your mind instantly sparkles with images of saloons, gold diggers, and gunfighters. That’s what we looked forward to. (Yes, “gold diggers” is an intentional double entendre.)

Dawn’s soft glow stirred us from sleep. Day 5’s itinerary brimmed with stops that promised not merely a drive, but discoveries. Memorable ones. Trust me.Continue Reading “Gold And Ghosts Of The Weird And Wild West”

Tourist Traps to Timeless Landscapes

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Tourist TrapsNot all tourist traps are alike. At some point, a tourist trap transcends its label, becoming a “must-see” simply for being so over the top. I can’t remember when we saw the first Wall Drug roadside sign, but its fame far exceeded its actual appearance.

We’d long left Chicago’s skyline behind for the flatlands. Of course, before the wide-open spaces, we traversed Wisconsin and Minnesota. It’s kind of arbitrary, but somehow poetic, to declare that crossing the Mississippi River truly makes you feel “out West” for the first time.

I-90 crosses the Mississippi on the Wisconsin-Minnesota border immediately south of Lake Onalaska. Yeah, they call it a lake, but it looks like it’s part of the river. Stretching 4 miles across, this is the widest span of the Mississippi River (if you include the Lake).

Oddly, crossing the Mississippi didn’t immediately scream “out West.” Instead, my brain went Continue Reading “Tourist Traps to Timeless Landscapes”

Chicagoland: Gateway to the West

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Chicagoland“I’ve hit Chicago, but Chicagoland? Never. That alone made this leg of the journey even more enticing, a perfect way to kick things off.

Not that we needed enticing.

Remember your first day of school? Work? Summer camp? The eagerness. The excitement. That urge to dive in headfirst. Optimism bubbling up. Anything feels possible.

Now, imagine embarking on a long vacation. Same vibe. That first-day buzz. All that anxiety Continue Reading “Chicagoland: Gateway to the West”

Fandemonium: Passing the Generational Torch

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I can’t understate how many times people asked me the following question in the past week: “Chris, did you get tickets to the playoff game?”

For those of you who didn’t go to St. Catherine’s Church when people still went to church, the Carosa family has a certain reputation. Each Sunday – football season or not – one or more of us (usually more of us) stood in line for communion resplendent in official and unofficial Bills attire.

Those were our Sunday clothes. It became such a tradition that, on those rare occasions (usually in the summer) when our garments didn’t sport a Bills logo, people would notice.

This “worship” of the Buffalo Bills began long ago. My father, however, was too young to remember the original Buffalo Bills.

Incidentally, did you know the first version of the Buffalo Bills appeared in the All-America Continue Reading “Fandemonium: Passing the Generational Torch”

Are You Trapped In An Echo Chamber? (And Why You Must Immediately Find The Nearest Exit)

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We’re building a detached garage. Since the time I bought my home, I had dreamed of building a detached garage. It was a dream Betsy quickly adopted, if only to create a massive storage vehicle for a lifetime of research, source material, and memories that have consumed much of the living space in our house. Soon, we will have a living room again. And a dining room. And maybe a couple of other rooms (and closets), too.

While the garage isn’t yet complete, we do have a roof and the building is adequately enclosed. A few weeks ago, we had Catarina’s birthday party in it. This weekend, we held Cesidia’s birthday party there.

Both parties were excellent. And instructive.

We had bare studs-and-plywood walls for Catarina’s party. By Cesidia’s party, the insulation had been installed (but not the drywall).

For Cesidia’s party, the garage was a nearly perfect sound room. The paper backing of the insulation absorbed all ambient noise. That didn’t mean it muffled our voices. No. When everyone was talking, it sounded like everyone was talking. You could hear each voice very clearly, but when the voices stopped, there was a dead silence.

It really perked up your attention. It also made you quite aware of everything around you. It was a full-bodied experience. Ironically, at the same time you were more attentive, you Continue Reading “Are You Trapped In An Echo Chamber? (And Why You Must Immediately Find The Nearest Exit)”

The Dog Days Of Coronavirus

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On April 21, 2020, the New York Post ran a story titled “Dogs could get extreme separation anxiety when quarantine ends, experts say.” That was four months ago. Back then, we expected the whole matter of Covid-19 to have been a memory by the summer.

We were wrong.

And the dogs of the world rejoice. (For those asking, cats don’t care. If anything, our physical proximity tends to grate on them.)

It’s almost as if this master/pet thing has been turned on its head. The dog is now king of Continue Reading “The Dog Days Of Coronavirus”

‘The Coming Thing…’ Thoughts on Turning 60

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OK, OK, so I admit it. This is a vanity post. I’ll be writing to you this week (and, it turns out, next week, too) in an unusually personal fashion.

Next week’s column (which was bumped a week for this week’s column) will make more sense. It’s written in a true “drama in real life” fashion. Oh, you needn’t worry. There’s very little real drama in it. But it will hold together in a way the following potpourri of random thoughts won’t.

Don’t mistake me, though. There will be portions of this mishmash very alluring. Some of it may even elicit the thought, “I’m glad someone finally said that.”

And with that, here we go…Continue Reading “‘The Coming Thing…’ Thoughts on Turning 60”

Was This Written 50 Years Too Early or 50 Years Too Late?

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I‘ve always been puzzled by this thought: Was I born 50 years too early or 50 years too late? This thought resurfaced this week as I rode the train back and forth to Chicago while the rest of the world dazzled itself with remembering the 50th anniversary of Apollo 11.

It reminds me of a skit I once did as Cubmaster for Peter’s pack. We had our meetings in the cavernous Mendon Firehall. It was always filled to capacity. Filled with boys, their parents, and their siblings.

That night I donned a pair of Buzz Lightyear “wings” (actually they were my young nephew’s and I don’t know how I fit them over my shoulders without overstretching them). After strutting a few steps with those wings, I added a Woody hat on top of my head.

Maybe one of the Toy Story movies was out that year.

In either case, I asked the pack to guess who I was. Some of the boys says “Buzz” and some said “Woody.” I said “Nope” to each guess. Then I looked up to the parents in Pack 105 and said – in a distinct John Wayne kind of voice – “Well, pilgrim, some people call me a ‘The Space Cowboy.’”

And so it has been in my life. Teetering on the precipice of “born too early” while simultaneously straddling the ledge of “born too late.” Some might view this as a Continue Reading “Was This Written 50 Years Too Early or 50 Years Too Late?”

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