{"id":529,"date":"2004-10-27T23:42:24","date_gmt":"2004-10-28T04:42:24","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/flaminggeeks.com\/k\/blog\/2004\/10\/27\/\/"},"modified":"2005-10-19T00:46:56","modified_gmt":"2005-10-19T04:46:56","slug":"storytelling-is-an-art","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/flaminggeeks.com\/k\/blog\/2004\/10\/27\/storytelling-is-an-art\/","title":{"rendered":"Storytelling is an Art"},"content":{"rendered":"
<\/div>\n

I have the worst trouble telling stories. I can never quite figure out where best to start, and often end up overloading the meat of the story with extraneous, though potentially useful, information.<\/p>\n

So this is a tale I’ve been meaning to write out since the end of August.<\/p>\n

I have a visceral horror of flat gravestones. You can’t see them in the winter: they’re covered by snow. The rain comes straight down on the inscription. Dirt and moss and leaves cover them with ease, because, of course, they are flat in the ground. So when polled about what sort of headstone to use for my father, my response was instantaneous: “I don’t really care what it looks like, as long as it’s vertical.” I was backed up in this by J1, who seemed to have the same feelings on the matter as myself.<\/p>\n

So earlier this year, my mom, after much vacillation, decided that she would have dad’s ashes moved to a new location so that she could have a vertical stone put in, along with a little bench. She had a brainwave at the time and asked that when they dug up the box to shift it they should take out a small amount of his ashes so we could put them someplace.<\/p>\n

In August she called me and said she was ready to go and take care of this and was I still interested in joining the expedition? Of course I was!<\/p>\n

Our group of adventurers consited of me, mom, J1 and mom’s friend Clara. Now, mom and Clara are generally sensible responsible women — they are mothers, Clara is a grandmother of 6 or 7, and live respectable lives. But sometimes when you get them together, like any two women friends, they do not behave in a sensible fashion.<\/p>\n

And so the day began…<\/p>\n

Lucy and Ethel go to Fenway<\/b><\/p>\n

After last year’s playoff debacle against the Yankees, mom decided that the Red Sox needed some extra help in breaking the curse. Familiar with the Fenway Park tour, she announced we would take it, and when they brought us down onto the field, we would find a convenient moment to sprinkle our ashes into the grass.<\/p>\n

The day dawned grey and drizzly, and I woke to a phonecall from mom, who was uncertain whether or not we ought to postpone the trip. “They won’t bring us down onto the field if it’s raining,” mom said, worried.<\/p>\n

I pointed out that if that turned out to be the case, we could simply go again.<\/p>\n

Reassured, mom decided the trip was still on. I got in my car and, armed with some directions from Yahoo, headed off in what turned out to be a futile attempt to find my brother’s apartment in Malden. I ended up calling the apartment from the parking lot of a Stop n Shop to ask for supplementary directions.<\/p>\n

I arrived finally at the apartment and we piled into mom’s SUV. After a brief detour
to drop off J1’s car, we get into Boston and find ourselves some parking near the park. During the short walk to where the tour groups met, mom displayed The Container: a small tupperware condiment container. J1 took hold of it, opened the lid and gave it a shake while he inspected the contents. I squeaked, mom looked horrified, and he put the cover back on. <\/p>\n

It was still drizzling on and off, but there was a crowd gathered for the 11am tour in the “Souvenir Shop”. We joined the milling fans, mom’s nerves starting to get the better of her and manifesting in giddy, giggly behavior.<\/p>\n

First stop was the press box, then the 406 club and a variety of interior locations. The tour guides are well versed in Fenway Park lore, and of course there’s a mystique to seeing parts of buildings you’re not usually permitted to see.<\/p>\n

The next stop was the top of the Green Monster, to see the seats up there. J1 showed us where he and J2 had been seated for the game they watched from up there.<\/p>\n

And then, as the threatened rain failed to materialise, we were brought down to the field. Mom’s giggles had returned and she hung back as the tour group started to circle toward the big manual scoreboard on the Green Monster. She, like me, was busy making up responses to anyone who might spot us dumping something on the ground and feel the need to inquire about it.<\/p>\n

I took her camera and got some pictures. Mom and Clara continued to whisper and look suspicious, so J1 relieved her of the tupperware container in which the ashes were kept, mosied right on over to the left field grass, and dumped them out.<\/p>\n

When he returned, mom seemed at a loss as to what to do with the now empty container, so I took it, feeling not a little creeped out by it.<\/p>\n

The remainder of the tour (and also the day) was uneventful; no one ever saw us, or if they did, they didn’t think to investigate what came out of the tupperware.<\/p>\n

And so that is how my dad ended up in left field at Fenway Park.<\/p>\n

And how the Curse was BROKEN.<\/p>\n

Ha.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I have the worst trouble telling stories. I can never quite figure out where best to start, and often end up overloading the meat of the story with extraneous, though potentially useful, information. So this is a tale I’ve been meaning to write out since the end of August. I have a visceral horror of […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[4],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/flaminggeeks.com\/k\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/529"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/flaminggeeks.com\/k\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/flaminggeeks.com\/k\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/flaminggeeks.com\/k\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/flaminggeeks.com\/k\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=529"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/flaminggeeks.com\/k\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/529\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/flaminggeeks.com\/k\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=529"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/flaminggeeks.com\/k\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=529"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/flaminggeeks.com\/k\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=529"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}