These photos were taken yesterday at La Provence in Concord. I might have been influenced by an interview I listened to on Friday on Fresh Air with Chuck Close, the guy known for painting extreme close-ups of faces.
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Matt and Hillary (from now on Hil), have been writing to Edgelina Lanuza at Escuela Horizonte and this is her first reply:

Hello Hilary and Matt!

That good that write to the school, you can attend the school in the time that you want it, alone they have to tell us the exact date that you want to take their classes of Spanish. You can also make work volunteer, alone they have to tell us that work volunteer’s type wants to make, we work with different organisms that you can make its voluntary work. We send them the inscription format so that they reserve their share, filling the format will be included in the program of classes and activities. Until soon.

Egdelina Lanuza
Director

Tom Pendergast playing last night at Willow Books. Jaw droppingly fine Jazz guitar considering the venue, a bookstore, the audience, six people, including this father with his appreciative son.

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Ginger and Brian in 1971, collecting their paychecks at McLean Hospital.

Yesterday was Dianeís 57th birthday, and we celebrated by having dinner at The Quarterdeck in Maynard with Matt and Flo. I attempted to order chocolate cake with a candle, and have a fine rendition of happy birthday sung by all, but Diane couldnít bear the thought of one more calorie. As it was, she couldnít finish her scallops.

However, we returned home to many familiar voices singing on our answering machine.

Hillary and her parents shared a potlucky dinner with us last night, and we discussed in some detail, the proposed trip to Esteli Nicaragua. Matt and Hillary are planning to spend four weeks in Esteli, where they will learn Spanish in the morning, and engage in volunteer work in the afternoons. Hereís the
website

Leroy, Helen, Brian and Helen Virginia

Bill Lewis and Pablo Guevara

Ed’s Cabin, Grok Hill, NH

Brian in Evansville

Florence Fallon and Frank Canning

Guess who or is it whom?

Jeff helping Karen with her lei Peter brought from Hawaii.
Yesterday we may have made serious progress in solving the BMW’s starting problem. I’m hopeful that Adam will fill in the details.

Peter and Helen.

Brian brought a pocket sized movie camera and took three movies. I combined two, and lost some quality, but the file size is small enough for even the modem impaired. If you’re patient. Click here to watch Matthew crush his poor uncle.

* Note : I was smart enough not to challenge him.

Neo and his dad.

Patting the last hair into place.
Brian’s photos taken in the Marriott in Evansville.

I’m embarrassed to say it, but I couldn’t “do” Gauguin. I looked at his Tahitian women, those muted, not brilliant colors, his interpretation of the female form (what was he thinking?), assorted carvings thrown in for local flavoring and could only think of rum drinks from a Chinese restaurant. I’m sorry. Further on in the exhibit were dark, foreboding, wood block prints that appealed to me, but by then it was too late. Diane, however, loved it, especially in respect to the rich French tradition he had departed from to display his own vision. Matt and Hillary politely gave it a thumbs up.
But the fun part of the evening was dinner at the Smokehouse restaurant. There, we toasted Matt’s driver’s license , and Hillary smeared barbecue rib sauce all over her face. Not intentionally, mind you, that’s why each table comes with a roll of paper towels. Matt suggested I take her photo, but I didn’t dare. You see, many of my most prized shots, are arguably not my own, but only Matt knows for sure. Had I taken one of Hillary, it would have been compared, unfavorably, to Matt’s, and I would have been exposed.

Dash Ruthenburg, unfairly passed over for the lead role in that new Mel
Gibson movie.
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Father, and as Sidney Toler would say, Number One son.
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Matt is bringing Hillary and we’re all going to the MFA tonight to see the Gauguin exhibition. Afterwards, perhaps dinner at the flaming barbeque place in Brookline to celebrate Matt’s passing his …. .

3:45 PM LATE BREAKING NEWS

All unessential personnel (women and children?) should leave their vehicles and hide in their homes until further notice. Matthew is now a licensed driver.

Shinydome sent a 360 degree view of
Torroemore. I like the footprints leading to the spot where the photo was taken, and the grey
tombstone looking things that must be ice fishing shacks. i’m sure we are all thinking the same thing. How great would it be to have a similar 360 degree view in the summer? Is the bass boat steady enough?
I wanted to turn the photo into a Quicktime panorama, but the software to do that, which used to be freeware, is now expensiveware. This site is a gold mine of mountain photos, hiking trails, and those Quicktime panos. Rakkity, how many of those mountains have you climbed?


Matt and his Indiana grandmother.

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Matt and (lean on me) Peter.

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Man in blue.

Dear Matthew,

Itís my fault. No, really, it is.

Do you remember sitting in momís car waiting for that two hundred and fifty pound trooper with his crewcut, and face hacked out of granite? The guy who barely fit in the passengerís seat. And do you remember all of my helpful questions to prepare you for your driving test?

ìMatt, how far from a stop sign are you legally required to stop?î

ìShuutup, youíre freaking me out!î

ìMatt, how far from an intersection should you engage your turn signals?î

ìShuutup, youíre freaking me out. Donít ask me questions you donít have the answers to.î

ìShouldnít you know the answers?î

ìIíll tell you how many. Itís, shuuttt the hell up, number of feet. Thatís how many.î

If mom had taken you for your driverís test, sheíd have left the teasing at home, and asked sensible questions. As I should have. She would have asked you what your friends had problems with, and you certainly would have remembered that Julie, too, drove right through that tricky red light. The one without an intersection, the one thirty feet before the red light, with a very busy intersection.

Not passing that test is a blip, but what is not a blip is the respect your adult friends (you know the list, we had dinner with most of them last night) have for you. Those that love and know you best, were flabbergasted that you came home without your license. Had I claimed the earthís magnetic poles flipped, they would have said, ìOkay.î But no one could believe that you didnít pass it. Like it or not, you got a rep, boy.

Love,

Dad