July 24, 2009

In Provincetown

We always hit Provincetown when we go to the Cape. Between the stores and the people, there's a lot to see and we always have a good time.

These shots were taken on Commercial Street on Thursday. It was teaming with people and it was sweltering.

I don't know how the woman in gold, who strives for statue-like stillness, could stand the heat.

To see large-scale versions of the pictures, click on them.

July 21, 2009

At The Gut

This is Shannon, our daughter, at the Gut in Wellfleet.

Shannon, Riley, Babbie and I have been visiting this secluded spot on the Cape for several years. We always called it Our Secret Beach.

When we were on the Cape last week we discovered its name: The Gut.

I just looked gut up in the dictionary. Besides meaning your entrails, strings made from animal intestines, personal courage, etc., it also means a narrow passage or strait.

In high school I was nicknamed "Guts" by a football coach. I was proud of that but a little embarrassed when friends called me that in public.

At The Gut it was windy and cold. Shannon turned the collar of her fleece jacket up. I pulled up the hood on my sweatshirt.

The sun was setting and the sky was dramatic. Riley picked up seashells and stones and put them in her pail. She and Shannon found a couple heart-shaped stones and handed them to me.

That's a tradition based on a series of paintings I did incorporating hearts.

We had a great time at The Gut, Head of the Meadow and Marconi - all beaches. Riley rode her boogie board (see photo in my July 15 post) and learned to dive into the waves. She swam out over her head. She would stay in the ocean so long her shoulders and forehead would turn purple.

She said she's going to be a surfer.

In contrast, I was a wimp. I went in up to my waist but no further. And that was only once. So much for Guts.

July 19, 2009

Billy, Babbie and Elton

Saturday night we went to the Elton John-Billy Joel concert at Gillette Stadium in Foxboro.

Me, Babbie, Eric and Michelle - they treated us - and maybe 70,000 others.

Billy and Elton made those pianos ring. Soft like cotton. Loud like cannons. It was my second rock concert. My first was Bruce Springsteen a lot of years ago at the old Boston Garden.

I think we were in the Southie section. Never saw so many Irish faces in a cluster. The women, young and middle aged, were having a wonderful time. Singing along, dancing at their seats high above the field. It was great seeing people giving themselves over to the moment.

That's not something I can usually do. And most of the men around us couldn't either. But by the end I was on my feet and so were many of them.

I was wearing my England Forever t-shirt that I bought in Provincetown Friday in honor of Elton. If they noticed, the Irish didn't take offence.

I took these shots with my cell phone. That's Babbie at the top. And that blaze of yellow is the stage. You can see how far away we were.

Getting out of the parking lot was a two-hour grind. But the whole thing was a blast.

I was surprised at the number of 20- and 30-somethings there. I had expected the hugh turnout of the middle aged. The old, like us, were few and far between.

I've always been a fan of Billy Joel. On stage he was cocky and pugnacious. Elton, on the other hand, didn't talk. But he glittered. A great showman.

Babbie said he looked cute and cuddly.