I apologize for this one in advance.  I wasn’t going to write about this but at this point, I simply have to. Somebody please sound the “yeah, he’s gone crazy” alarm.

Stat.

I’m being haunted by Ric Ocasek and The Cars.

It started about a month or so ago when I heard a Cars song on the radio. I specifically remember saying to myself that I haven’t heard a Cars song in like 15 years. It brought back a lot of memories of high school, growing up in Pleasantville, MTV videos, and many things I really hadn’t thought about in a long while.

Lately, I have been hearing Cars songs everywhere: On the radio, in restaurants, in the grocery stores, the mall, and just about everywhere and anywhere. At first, I played it off as coincidence. I hadn’t heard a Cars song in what seemed like forever, and now they were popping up all the time. Whatever, maybe someone at my favorite radio station found a CD. I decided to switch up radio stations and routines. Sadly, it kept happening.  I am now being slowly “new wave synth-oriented pop” rocked to death.

Before this weekend, I thought I had figured it out. I thought I knew the significance of this “haunting” and ever-present music in my life. Due to some events that happened over the past few days, I realized that I was wrong. Dead wrong. Now, I’m more confused than ever. I have simply no idea what this musical time warp that I have been placed in is all about.

who’s gonna pay attention
to your dreams
who’s gonna plug their ears
when you scream

you can’t go on
thinking nothing’s wrong
who’s gonna drive you home tonight

Yesterday was the final straw. I got into the car and the first song I hear of course, was a Cars song. It happened again later during my ride to my gym buddy’s (I’ll expand on this sometime later this week) place after work.  During that five minute drive, I was literally thinking about what I was going to write here and guess which band comes on the radio. It has been simply uncanny.

To try and figure it out, I went on wikipedia (one of the best sites ever, btw) to try and learn more about the band. I feel like one of the many “Lost” (maybe I’m watching too much) zealots I read all over internerd who try to decode every single frame of the show. I am a living, breathing Dharma Initiative work-man. To figure it out I’ll memorize the numbers, I’ll press the button every 180 minutes, I’ll visit/find Jacob, I’ll not Penny’s boat, I’ll do whatever.

From wikipedia, I was very surprised to learn that The Cars were from Boston. Before you call me on it, I seriously didn’t know this. Hell, I just found out who Bernie Madoff was like a week or two ago. I also learned that band members Ocasek and Benjamin Orr met in my old college stomping grounds, Columbus Ohio. They first released an album (as a different group) together in the year I was born, 1973 and “spent the winter of 1976–77 playing throughout New England, developing, honing, and ultimately perfecting the songs that would become their debut album.” Somewhat interesting I guess, but it still doesn’t explain the cosmic connection I seem to have with the band lately.

you’re emotion in motion
my magical potion
you’re emotion in motion
to me

As an aside, I really don’t mind being haunted, but could I have at least gotten better music? What does it say about my place in the universe that the group that I’m haunted by is a techno-pop-80’s mishmash of sound? I mean, their music is OK, but come on…. What does a Dutchman have to do get haunted by some good music (like Radiohead or something, I’d kill to be haunted by them)? Furthermore, Ric Ocasek, I mean.. seriously? He is a Howard Stern wanna-be look alike.

So, to the supernatural forces that have chosen to litter my world with the “magical” (oh oh it’s magic) sounds of The Cars, I say this:

You win. You have my attention. I am here at your disposal and exposing myself for The Cars mockery for all of my readers to see. You have Ocasek’ed me into submission and I will not ignore you anymore. Have your way with me, but please, enough with The Cars music popping up anywhere and everywhere.

you can knock me and i don’t care
you can mock me and i don’t care
you can rock me just about anywhere

Just get me out of this month long 80’s video!!!

This is the first installment of “Miley Monday.” From now on (or until I get bored with it), my Monday entry is going to be an update on how my new puppy is doing. I adopted her a week ago and the challenge of intertwining both of our worlds has gone smoother than I hope it would. Miley has had only two accidents in the past week. I will take total responsibility for one because I was too focused on the Villanova/Duke basketball game to let her out.

We have just ended a very busy weekend for Miley and me. It started out Friday when (at my bosses’s request), I went home late in the afternoon and brought Miley to work. There is something very cool about bringing your dog to the office (the picture above is Miley sitting on my desk) during normal business hours. She was a hit and was rewarded with a trip to Petco (after all, it IS where the pets go) and a trip to Sheepfold (a.k.a. dog heaven).

Sheepfold is a dog park in Stoneham which might be the happiest place for a dog in the area. It is basically an open field where many dog owners bring their dogs to run free. At any given time, you can usually find more than 10 dogs roaming around chasing each other, tennis balls and being chased by their owners. I didn’t let Miley off the leash because I don’t think she is ready for it.  Eventually, I hope she learns to come whenever she is called and I can let her run free there. At this point, however, she suffers from what I like to call puppy/selective hearing.

Saturday, Miley had a very full day. We spent the early afternoon at my friend Fris’ (Chuck’s) place. Fris was the one who recommended CAAA and got a dog of his own there named Archie. Like Miley, Archie was also a Georgia rescue dog. Their neighbor’s dog Benny also came over.  I’m happy to report that Miley held her own playing pretty rough with two dogs at least 50 pounds heaver than her. Fris called her a “tough, Gloucester girl.”

She finished the day over at my friend Jomarie’s house. Jomarie invited me, Devid and my cousin Leslie over for dinner and also extended the invite to Miley. Except for an accident on the floor and a hot dog she stole from the dinner table, she was very well behaved.  Sunday was a rest day for Miley because she was very worn out from all the festivities on Saturday. This was good for me because I was out and about doing a lot of stuff and didn’t feel so bad leaving her alone.

Fris mentioned something to me that was very interesting. While the dogs were running around in the yard, he remarked that usually a dog will come up to his/her owner looking for occasional attention or reassurance .  He noticed that Miley doesn’t do that. He was right. Miley is a very independent dog. Sometimes, while I’m writing or watching TV, Miley will play by herself in another room. I know things are fine when I hear her bouncing around, chewing on rawhide, or throwing one of her toys around and chasing it.

Also, Miley has a predilection for barking at her reflection – in anything. She barks at herself in windows, mirrors and even in the glass of the front of my entertainment center (as pictured here). It is one of those things a puppy does that goes from adorable, to funny to annoying all within a short period of time. Thursday night, I ran out for a bit and my brother John was over playing with Miley. She saw herself in the window and proceeded to go into a barking tirade at, you guessed it, herself.

There really is something about Miley. She is well-behaved, great with people (of all ages), other dogs, and bringing her into my life was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

EDITOR’S NOTE: Happy Birthday, Alex!

Congratulations to the Villanova Wildcats for their big win over Duke last night.  Ding dong the witch is dead.  This is where the tournament starts to really get good.  Again, there are 64 single-elimination games in this tournament and it is unlike any other sporting event.  It is seriously cutting into my writing time, but well worth it.  Now if UConn could just lose, it will be a happy tournament.

Tune in Monday for a “Miley Monday” update!  I already have some funny stuff to share and her weekend is chocked full of planned activites.  The dog is 10 months old and is already developing a social calendar.

Have a great weekend everyone!

Before I’m forced to change the name of the blog to Truth About Miley, I’m going to switch gears a bit. From the response I’ve gotten, it seems like people like to read about her. What I am going to do is try to post “Miley Monday” entries every Monday morning at 5:11am. This way, the folks up at CAAA will know when to check in to see how Miley is progressing in her new home.

I will say that we’re at about 48 consecutive hours without an accident. Thanks to my Miley, the transition back to being a dog owner has gone more smoothly than I ever imagined it would. Check in on Mondays for more updates on the newest four paws in my life.

And now, back to your regularly scheduled verbal diarrhea….

I think one of the most admirable qualities a person can have is following through. Many people can talk the talk, but considerably less walk the walk. Quite often, we’re let down by people who do not follow through.

If you think about it, it’s really not that hard. Do what you say you are going to do. Honor your commitments. One thing I like to do is under-promise and over-deliver. This way, I’ll never let anyone down. Follow through on what you say you’re going to do and you will undoubtedly earn the respect of everyone who crosses your path.

Monday, Curt Schilling announced that he was retiring from the game of baseball. Just as Cyn posted in her blog, the news of Schilling’s retirement affected me much more than I thought it ever would. There are many things I do not like about Schilling: I’m not a fan of his politics, the way he handled himself before Congress in 2005, I’m not a fan of how outspoken he is, and I certainly didn’t like how he acted when I met him.

On the field however, it is a completely different story. Simply put, Curt Schilling is a man who followed through. He came to Boston to “break a curse” and delivered. For probably as long as I live, his name will be my answer to the question of who I’d want pitching for my team if everything was on the line. When the stakes were highest, Schilling was at his best. I feel lucky that I was able to go to his last game (Thanks G2!) and when I met him, he signed my ticket stub from that day.

The 2004 Red Sox literally changed the way I look at sports. Before 2004, I never thought I’d actually see my favorite baseball team win the World Series. They proved that “anything’s possible” long before Kevin Garnett came to town. The 2004 Red Sox do not happen without Curt Schilling. It was an amazing ride and an amazing team. Maybe that is why the news of his retirement saddened me. Even though that October will forever remain close to my heart, Schilling’s retirement pushed the great memories of 2004 further away from the now.

This one’s for you, Curt. Thank you for changing my life, but most of all thanks for following through.

See you in Cooperstown.

EDITOR’S NOTE: Thanks to Jen G. for the heads up on National Puppy Day, which was (quite fittingly) yesterday.

It is always great to be living a day that you know you’ll always remember. Sunday was one of those days. Rare is the time where you meet someone (or “something” in this case) and you know how important they (or “it” in this case) will end up being.

After filling out the paperwork, Miley and I were off to her new home. While I was reading through some of the documents, I was very happy to see that her birthday was listed as May 11^th. As many of you know, I geek out on birthdays and numerology and it is fair to say that I was very, very happy to see those numbers. When I saw them, I knew that I had made the right choice and everything was going to work out.

The kind folks at CAAA sold me a used crate that I can keep her in while she is left alone. Miley was very good in the car and has adjusted to her new home well. She also has been excellent with all of the people that have come to the house to visit. Also, Miley is very thankful for all the “welcome home” gifts she has received. She is especially thankful to the person who went overboard in this department.

She sniffs and tries to eat everything. Sunday, she got loose in the yard and during the few minutes that she ran free, she found a piece of toast buried in some leaves (I have no idea how). She is really fast and it took four of us to corner and catch her. My old dog Tiger would try to pee on everything. Miley, on the other hand pees once and sniffs everything. It is an interesting contrast.  Also, she always kicks up the ground after going to the bathroom to try and cover it up; she has to remain a lady you know.  Lastly, she has only barked once since we met.  It was in the park yesterday when we saw some other dogs.

Many people have asked about her name. Miley is the name that the people at the shelter gave her. She responds to it, so I think it would be unfair to change it at this point. And (if you’re wondering) yes, I’ve already had my fill of the Hannah Montana references. The name is actually growing on me. She looks like a Miley and I’ve even started shortening it to Miles. I just can see the blog entry titles littered with “Miles” references. After all, it’s all about the blog, right?

I think I got really lucky with this one. The adjustment has been a breeze and I keep asking myself what took so long to become a dog owner again. I’ve only just “met” her but it seems like every minute we are apart seems like an eternity. I was remarking to people at work yesterday that it was the “longest morning ever” and that I couldn’t wait to go home at lunchtime to see my girl.

It has been said that dogs are man’s best friend. If this is true, then I don’t think I could have found a better new best friend. I can’t wait to watch her grow and to experience all of our future adventures together.

Yep, we were past the point of no return.

But seriously, this was a long time coming. I’ve always have had dogs and always have been a dog guy.  It was time.

Secretly, part of my reason for not getting a dog was that I didn’t want to feel the pain of losing one again. However, I don’t think you can get true joy out of life unless you put yourself out there and expose yourself to potential hurt. Not getting a dog for the sake of not exposing myself to the hurt of losing one, just wasn’t me.  I’m probably the exact opposite. Frankly, it probably took me too long to get to this point. Thanks again for helping me get there, Jomarie.

This weekend was a whirlwind of driving (miles and miles, har har) and dog shelters. Saturday, I started out at the Animal Rescue League of Boston. I decided to hit two different shelters before and after my cousin Mel’s dance show (which was great, btw!). I got to the first shelter right as it opened and it was great to see a line of people waiting to get in. After the show, I hit up the MSPCA in Jamaica Plain. Neither place had a good selection of dogs. I have visited the shelter in JP about 5 times over the past 6 months. It seems like they always get a lot of pit bulls there.

Yesterday, my travels led me to the Northeast Animal Shelter in Salem (thanks Tim for the facebook heads up). They have a beautiful new shelter and there I found the first dog that really interested me. The only problem was it was 12 weeks old and after talking to one of their staff members, she determined that it wasn’t a good match for me.  I was kind of put off by her attitude, so I left before going back to look at another dog that also interested me.

My last shelter visit of the weekend was up at the Cape Ann Animal Aid up in Gloucester. My friend Fris (Chuck) had recently got his dog Archie up there and highly recommended the place. As I looked over the dogs they had, nothing jumped out at me.  I resigned myself to the fact that my search was going to be tougher than I originally thought. Before I left, I started talking to one of the staff members (Colleen, I think) and she asked me questions on what type of dog I was looking for. After talking for a while, she mentioned a dog named Miley. She thought the dog might be a good match for me.  Miley was out on a walk, so I decided to stick around until she got back.

As we waited, Colleen really gave me the hard sell on Miley and showed me a few pictures of her. She mentioned that Miley was from a shelter in Georgia that the folks at Cape Ann work with. She also spoke about how she took Miley into her own home when they had to close the Cape Ann Shelter for a few days.  One of the deciding factors about Miley for me, was hearing how well behaved she was at Colleen’s house. Miley is a 10 month old beagle mix and had been with the folks in Cape Ann for about two months. Colleen was really surprised that Miley hadn’t been adopted, but surmised that it was her high-pitched bark that scared people off.

While we were talking, a smile crept onto her face as she noticed that Miley had returned. I looked over to see two volunteers with two different dogs. As soon as I recognized Miley from the pictures, I knew my search had ended. Next, they put us in a small caged area to let us get to know each other.  With no exaggeration, our first 3-4 minutes together consisted of Miley constantly barking at me. Before all of those thoughts of my search ending began to vanish, Miley finally got accustomed to me (this may have been because of the treats Colleen gave me, which in turn I have to Miley).  One of the things that completely struck me about Miley (and my brother said this as well), is that she looks like a mix of my last two dogs.

I think I seriously made the woman’s 2009 when I turned to Colleen and simply said, “I’ll take her.” She couldn’t believe it. You could see the time, love, and effort she had invested in this little dog splashed all over her face. Her Miley was finally leaving the shelter and had finally found a home. My 3.5 words was the culmination of all of their efforts all wrapped up into one sentence. Colleen looked so happy that I thought she was going to cry.  It was a great feeling and a look I will never forget.

One of the best things about having a dog is taking it out for that last, late walk of the night. It is you, the dog, a plastic bag and the complete silence of the neighborhood. Last night, there was a chill in the air and all the stars were out and visable for every eye to see. Since I gave Tiger up, I’ve missed that moment of outdoor solitude that always used to end my day.

Welcome to my world, young Miley. I hope I’m a good owner to you and that you like your new home.

I also hope we have many years of making that late night walk together.

Stay tuned for “Meeting Miley, Part Two” coming tomorrow.

EDITOR’S NOTE: If you’re looking for something to do this weekend, please check out Rainbow Tribe’s show “Driven.” Tickets still remain for tonight’s show and the Saturday 2pm matinee (I’m headed to this one).

Yeah, I might be going there.

If you’ve been following along, you know that ever since losing custody of Tiger, I’ve been wanting to get a new dog for a while. I have hesitated because I live alone and am literally never home. I thought it would be unfair to get a dog with my current living situation. After some lobbying from my friend Jomarie, I might just have been persuaded to finally make the leap and become a dog owner once again. Jomarie sent me a few different links of dogs from petfinder.com. After seeing one particular dog, I filled out their adoption application. I’ll also be hitting a shelter or two over the weekend.

Dogs are literally man’s best friend and the best pet a person can have. They are loyal, playful and always give you a heroes welcome when you walk in the door. Those are all things I’ve missed since I lost Tiger. Also, with the weather getting warmer, it is the optimal time to get a dog. It been a rough winter and I want to spend as many hours outside possible before it gets starts to get really cold again. Having a dog will definitely help me achieve that goal. One good thing about my current employment is that my commute is about 10 minutes. If I got a dog, my plan is to go home each day at lunch to let it out.

I have some requirements in choosing a new dog. First and most important, the dog must come from some sort of animal shelter. I’ve gotten all my dogs this way. Dogs are going to unconditionally love you anyways, but I think if you can get a dog out of jail it will love you even more. Futhermore, I hate hate hate the thought of dogs being euthanized in shelters because nobody adopted them. With Tiger, I loved knowing the fact that we saved him and that before he met us, he was stuck in a cage with an uncertain future.

Less important, the dog has to be at least 8 months old. After applying on the website, they emailed me back saying that with my current lifestyle (ie. the dog would be alone for part of the day), I wouldn’t be eligible to adopt a really young dog.  It also has to be medium sized.

Least important, I want my dog to look like a “Brady.” I’ve wanted to name my next dog Brady since I lost custody of my last dog. This is up for debate however, because I’ve heard of a couple of people who have done this already. Other possibilities are Lester, Welker, Randy, Brutus (Go Bucks! Beat Sienna tonight!) and KGPierceRondoRayPerk (or some variation of those names). I guess I will have to see the dog before I make the final decision on the name. You all will be happy to know that Marbury has been withdrawn from consideration.

Final disclaimer: I am not 100% sure I will be getting a dog. Feel free (please?) to comment on your thoughts on the matter. There are still plenty of considerations to mull over. However knowing myself like I do, I might be past the point of no return.

Woof.

Oh yeah, did I menton this?

Good luck, Mel!  Have a great weekend, everyone.

I’m beat from the festivites last night, so I’m mailing it in.

The NCAA Tournament starts today.  To me, this tournament is the best playoff in sports.  65 teams, 64 single-elimination games and only one winner.  It is a real shame that people around these parts don’t like college sports more, they are really missing out.  One of my favorite places around here to watch tournament games is Game On at Fenway Park.  Many local college alumni groups get together to watch their teams there and the atmosphere is a great time.

The next three weeks will be filled with fantastic finishes, cinderellas, surprise stories, drama, upsets and a boatload of great basketball.  The tournament will roll us right into baseball’s opening day, thus ending the “dead zone” of the sports year.  Today is where the sports year really starts to heat up.

Oh yeah, as for my prediction:

Cutting down the nets in Detroit in three weeks will be….

The North Carolina Tarheels.

Enjoy the tournament!

EDITOR’S NOTE: Thanks for the Facebook post, Allyson. It is that kind of sentiment that keeps me writing every day. Thank you!!!  I really appreciate it!

OK, I lied.

My “Primer for the NCAA Tournament” is coming tomorrow. I hope. I say I hope because tonight I am resurrecting an old tradition.  I am rocking it just like Anoop did last night.

For years, my friends from high school and I would get together on Wednesday nights. It started out as card night and it happened for quite a while. As time passed, we played cards less and less and just began hanging out on Wednesday nights.

It became a habit. I just knew, on Wednesday night, I was headed to their place Medfa. It became second nature and part of my routine. There were even some times when I showed up and nobody was home. Like when Chuckie Sullivan showed up at Will Hunting’s place and he wasn’t home, I shrugged my shoulders and drove off.

Sometime, over the past few years, we just stopped. The normal progression of life set in. Along came busier jobs, wives, and some of us even hatched offspring. Our 20+ year bonds remained strong, yet the weekly get-togethers became a memory. We’d try to plan stuff over email, but it seemed impossible to match up everyone’s schedule. We became the “only see each other at weddings” group and frankly, it kind of sucked.

A few weeks ago, I sent around an email telling the Fellas that card night was back. Suddenly, all of those obstacles that prevented us from getting together disappeared and the tradition was re-born. Flah suggested firing up the grill (yes, I have enough gas!), Dos said he’d grab the burgers, Red is going to make the 90 minute (!!) drive up from Hartford, Sax (Todd) said he’d be late (fitting), Phil joked about packing heat, Cal said he couldn’t make it and Tats, well with Tats, you just never know.

Last night, I was over Flah’s place and met his son for the first time.  Meeting him was just another one of those things that reinforced the changes that have taken over all of our lives.  These days, 6 out of 8 of us on a random weekday is quite good. Phenomenal, in fact.  I just hope we keep it going. I know we can never have weekly gatherings again, but at this point I’d even settle for a monthly gathering. Something.

The best part about card night is not playing cards. It is being together, just hanging out. It is knowing that every Xth Wednesday, we’re going to see each other. We all need things in life to look forward to. We all need that oasis during our own personal journeys across our own personal deserts. Card night offers a brief respite from the trials and tribulations of 8am-5pm Monday through Friday. Times like these help reinforce the fact that your boys will always be your boys; They also reinforce the fact that those same boys will always always have your back, no matter what.

As a group of friends, nights like these help us define us.  They make Pleasantville pleasant and make home feel like home.

Welcome back, card night.

I’ve really missed you.

EDITOR’S NOTE: Thanks to Julie for giving me the heads up on how to get my blog listed on boston.com (look under sports blogs).

Welcome to everyone finding Truth About Mike from there.  Happy St. Patrick’s/Evacuation Day!

It seems like I’m always writing about moments.

Mostly thanks to Josh and the Gemster, Sunday was an amazing day and it was filled with many “moments.” I could literally write all week about stuff that happened on Sunday (I won’t – my first-annual “Primer for the NCAA Tournament” is hopefully coming tomorrow). One of the best moments happened at the very end of the day. My friend Todd and I were walking out of the Garden and he ran into a group of his students. Todd is a teacher at our old high school.

We were walking along, talking about this week’s poker night and one of the kids yelled out to him. He then instantly transformed from Todd my friend and contemporary, to Todd the teacher in a public setting. The group of kids giggled. It was that all too familiar giggle we have all giggled when, as kids, we’d see teachers outside of school. It is a moment of “wow, our teacher is a real person too and actually has an existence outside of the walls of the high school” moment. It was interesting to see my friend, someone I’ve known for over 20 years, interacting in that role.

What made it so interesting was that I still picture myself as one of those kids gawking at a teacher outside of school. I still call my friend’s/classmates’ parents “Mr and Mrs. So-and-so” and get corrected all the time. I still do it to parents who have asked me to call them by their first name. It just seems disrespectful to me. Hell, I do it to parents of people who didn’t even go to school with me.  For me, it just feels right and I’ll probably do it forever.

During that moment, it really hit me. We (my friends and I) aren’t those kids happily galavanting though life gawking at teachers in public settings anymore. We’re the sometimes teachers, sometimes parents and the (sometimes) adults now. I stepped back and watch him interact with the kids just as our teachers would interact with us. They asked him if he was headed on the subway like they were and he was probably very glad to report that he wasn’t. It was an eye-opener for me.

The kids went on their way and Todd and I finished up our conversation. I watched him walk away and also watched the kids out of the corner of my eye; they got on the escalator to ride into the depths of the subway. The teacher went one way and the carefree kids went another. They headed off to inevitably cause more mischief somewhere in the subterranean depths of the T; He walked off to his car parked somewhere in Government Center.

Interestingly enough, I was also taking the train.

To get home, I didn’t follow the teacher.

I followed the kids.