Not from Boston.
My dad grew up in New Rochelle. His dad had a summer cottage in
Gardner Lake, Connecticut. It was a cabin with hand-pump water and an outhouse. Other than swimming, there wasn't much to do.
So every summer afternoon or evening, my dad would turn on the Hartford, Connecticut AM radio station and listen to the Red Sox play. Later when he was going to Manhattan engineering school, he'd make it a point to see the Bosox when they came into town to play the Yankees. Later when my dad moved to Virginia, he still managed to be able to pick up that Hartford AM station and so could follow his beloved Bosox. And the whole family developed the attachment. We were one more group that was a part of Red Sox Nation.
Then I went to prep school in Exeter. Every Wednesda or Saturday we had an opportunity to take a bus trip to Boston to fool around.
Then I got involved with Uechi. And getting my students tested meant a trip up to Boston (once or twice a year) for a dan exam. And there was the after-test celebration at that now-closed German drinking place in Harvard Square.
So I don't have roots, but I do have attachments.
My dad was too "old generation" to appreciate MLK. He just lived in another era. But when JFK was president, he would take off from work early (then a stock broker) just to listen to JFK speak. I'm old enough to remember, being in first grade in September of 1960. Even then I knew he was a remarkably intellgient man. And he was the only pro-business Kennedy that I know of.
Like you, Dad doesn't think much of Teddie. He's done a few good things (like being co-author of the health insurance portability and accountability act), but mostly he's someone that only a home audience can love.
Of course I know I won't offend anyone with that remark...
- Bill