Travelogues

Charlestown is a neighborhood of Boston, just north of the city across the Mystic River, which was once known as a tough place (whenever a bank robbery or armored car heist appeared in the news, it seemed inevitably to involve a “Townie”), but in recent years has been gentrifying, especially along the waterfront. Many of Boston’s wealthy professionals have purchased homes and condominiums in the area, joining one of the oldest residents already present there: The USS Constitution.

Of course, the Constitution—also known as Old Ironsides, an 18th-century ship of sail—is the oldest commissioned warship in the world and is on active duty in the US Navy. She is berthed in the Navy Yard in Charlestown and each day she follows Navy tradition by playing the National Anthem and firing a cannon in salute.

Last November some of the Constitution’s newer neighbors decided that the Old Lady was not being a good neighbor and asked that her ceremonies be altered or ceased. This week, the ship’s commanding officer refused their request. The neighbors had asked that the charges for the cannon be reduced and the volume on the anthem reduced and even eliminated completely on the weekends. They had complained—and I’m not exaggerating—that the noise disturbed houseguests’ sleep on the weekends and their ability to enjoy a glass wine on their balconies and patios in the evenings.

It’s not like the existence of the Constitution was a surprise to anyone moving into Charlestown, but like someone who moves near railroad tracks and is surprised at the blowing of whistles by passing trains in the night, all we can say is, that’s your own fault for failing to do due diligence. Caveat emptor!

The Constitution’s traditions are more than mere show for the tourists. They are an integral part of the ship’s mission, which is to serve as a reminder and a connection to our nation’s naval history in war and peace and to preserve our heritage and traditions, so we will never forget the sacrifice of blood, sweat, and tears of those who gave their all for freedom and liberty.

A few years ago, I was privileged to ride aboard the Constitution during his annual Fourth of July cruise in Boston Harbor, a day I won’t soon forget. While aboard I recorded the 21-gun salute to our nation from belowdecks.

Charlestown’s blue-state swells should remind themselves of Admiral Boom from “Mary Poppins”, the retired British man of the sea who fired off a cannon from his home on the square each day at noon. Although the blast nearly turned the neighbors’ home upside down each day, no one dreamed of asking the admiral to end a tradition that connected him to the sea and symbolized his long and distinguished service to King and Country.

Of course, I’m also reminded of another movie scene, one which expresses my attitude toward those who would cast aside our heritage and history so lightly. I’m thinking of Col. Jessup from “A Few Good Men”:

I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom I provide, then questions the manner in which I provide it. I’d prefer you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon and stand a post.Either way, I don’t give a damn what you think you’re entitled to.

Photo by Domenico Bettinelli. All Rights Reserved.

Too late to pick-our-own apples, nevertheless on this Columbus Day weekend we went to Big Apple Farm in Wrentham, MA. And, by the way, a Trappistine Monastery happens to be down the street and so we stopped there too.

So we’re on vacation this week. We weren’t able to make our regular Christmas visit to Melanie’s family in Austin, Texas, because of the cost of airfare at the time (about $1,500 for three tickets), but a couple of weeks ago we saw the price had dropped to half that and we jumped at the chance. A big part of the reason is that I don’t know if I’ll get an actual vacation this summer, with the baby coming in July, so we should take it while we have the chance.

The flight was uneventful in the important ways and the kids were just great. Very little noise from either of them and no crying. It was also nice that the plane was half empty and we could spread out into two rows. Of course, it doesn’t mean that trip was completely smooth.

We had to rise before dawn on Saturday, which made for a long day, but both girls woke in a good mood. We’d been prepping Isabella for days that we were going to Texas on an airplane and her first words on waking were, “Are we going to the airplane to go to Texas?” My sister-in-law, who’s staying behind at the house unfortunately for her, drove us to the airport. But no sooner had she pulled away from the curb—after we’d piled out and stacked up the luggage—than we realized Bella had left her bag with her dolly and stuffed piggy in the car. I called my sis-in-law right away but she’d already got into the tunnel back to the city and then ended up getting lost on the city streets despite the GPS and it took about 20 minutes of anxious waiting for her to come back. Disaster averted.

Yes, the summers are very hot, but at least you don’t have to shovel the heat.

The TSA checkpoint was pretty smooth too, as they had set up a special line for those with small children and those who had bags of medications. New regulations allow you to bring as much children’s food and drink as you need, as long as you show it to them, which was just fine for us. We did have a small meltdown when Bella had to put her shoes and bag on the x-ray belt, but the TSA folks were as pleasant as I’ve seen them. I think it helps that it wasn’t Christmastime.

We got on the plane and into the air, and finally I started to relax a little. I ordered some nice hot Dunkin Donuts coffee that Jet Blue serves and was taking my first big sip when it went down the wrong pipe. Rather than cough a mouthful of hot coffee all over the seatback in front of me and the person in it, I tried to keep it in my mouth. Big mistake. That liquid had to go somewhere so instead it went up into my sinuses and out my nose all over me. I’m sure it looked as unpleasant as it felt. The rest of the day my singed sinuses felt like I’d run a Neti pot-ful of chlorinated pool water through my nose or that I’d just come off a weeklong sinusitis bender. Or both. Fun!

But any discomfort was more than balanced by landing and experiencing the balmy 70 degree weather in Austin. It was awesome. The older I get the more I think how nice it wold be to live here. Yes, the summers are very hot, but you don’t have to shovel the heat. Hmm, I wonder if Bishop Aymond needs someone to work in their development office. (Just kidding, boss!)

So what’s on tap this week? Reading, sitting outside, eating barbecue. And next Saturday is a fun blogger meetup with The Darwins, Jen of Conversion Diary, Betty Beguiles, Literacy-chic of Words, Words, the Opinionated Homeschooler, Dorian Speed of Scrutinies, and Rick Lugari, who seems to be everywhere in St. Blog’s these days, but is famed for his previous blogs De Civitate Dei and Musum Pontificalis. Whew! Oh, and about three dozen kids. I hope it’s nice weather and they can all be thrust outdoors otherwise it’s going to be a bumpy ride.

Photo credit: Flickr.com user Fricke K. Used under a Creative Commons license.

Amy Welborn went to Rome during Thanksgiving week to visit her son, who is living there, and to be a primarily solo pilgrim. Her accounts are beautiful, of course, as are her photos, and they make me long to return to the Eternal City. I feel like a part of me will always reside in Rome.

Best to start with this post and read sequentially. At first, you’ll find her in-progress reports from Rome and then her post-trip, more considered reflections this week. A beautiful way to begin Advent.

(I’ve been away the past four days at the International Catholic Stewardship Council conference in Chicago, but I didn’t post anything about it here for obvious reasons, i.e. Melanie and the girls being home alone.)

As I waited in the boarding area for my flight at O’Hare, I heard a yip-yip noise.

“Oh a child on my flight. Well, at Christmastime we’re that family so I can be patient.”

Then I heard more yipping.

“Wait, that’s no child. It’s a lap dog. On my flight. I hope they sit far away from me.”

Later as I board the plane:

“There’s the woman with the dog. Oh no, she’s near my row. … Oh NO. She’s. Sitting. Next. To. Me!”

In the end, the dog wasn’t that bad although I think some of the others on the flight overreacted. I could tell she was anxious because of the reaction of the people. She was nice, asked me if I had allergies, and wanted to sit in an empty row if the plane wasn’t full. (It was.) And there was some yapping, but not much overall.

Frankly, the Red Sox game was more distressing. That’s the funny part about flying Jet Blue into Boston when the Sox are playing in the playoffs. Nearly every seat-back TV was tuned to the game and every time Tampa Bay scored, there was an audible groan throughout the plane.

Wish I could have experience what it was like when they were winning.