Work

... and so I sit here, at this cluttered desk, and work. But not without a few reminders, on top of a speaker here, or tucked in beside a monitor there, that not all Saturdays have been spent here, stolen away in this quiet basement, on task, on schedule.

Beside me:


Our tickets for Red Sox vs. Yankees, September 1st, 2011. Our anniversary, and a present from Kar for my 27th birthday. One of my best days. Walking into Fenway Park and just feeling the place. The smell of it, and the sound... the sound of Boston. To walk into a major league ballpark on any day is an experience. As the line goes, "It's hard not to be romantic about baseball..." To do it here, at the oldest park in the country, was a special moment. Kar will always remember the excitement of being asked, at the food stand, "do you want chilli on those hotdogs?" (do people actually say no?!) My memories are much less tangible... a sort of overall experience that I'll never forget.



This one just makes me lose it every single time I look at it... look at that girl!! Still got the best smile I've ever seen. She sits right under my monitor, front and centre. It's a guaranteed shot of good every time I look down.



From our wedding day. I have no idea what Ronnie is laughing at, but when I look at this picture, I can't help but think that life is good. That people are good. That to wake up tomorrow, and attack the day with the a renewed sense of joy, and energy, and faith in the good of the people in my life is the most reasonable, and honest thing I might do. It's been a welcome bit of added perspective on more than a few occasions.



I never properly knew Opa. But he and I shared some things that make this photo interesting to me. My first guitar was one of his. I gather he looked like me when he was younger. Which, I suppose, makes this photo something of a prediction piece. He loved to sing. He had a habit, I've been told, of holding that last note just a fraction of a second longer than the rest of the choir... something I find positively hilarious. I think, were he around today, we'd probably retire to the deck to share a secret cigar and maybe a few fingers of scotch. I think I'm probably more like him than I know, which I admit I rather enjoy.

On the back of the picture,

"Dear Jonathan, your Opa always loved music. In his youth he dreamed of owning + playing violin. Since his family was very poor he had to settle for a guitar + mouthorgan. In this picture Opa is entertaining his employees at a Christmas party in our basement. December 1966 or 67."


Small reminders throughout a day's work that bring me back to what it is, exactly, that I'm working for.

JB