by Robert Gillis
Published in the Foxboro Reporter and the Boston City Paper 2/2010

Slow news day. As good a time as any to pick on Facebook. If you don’t use Facebook, you might not “get” this one.

Melinda Minutia: Plain oatmeal for breakfast this morning! Yummy.

Joanna O’Blivious: Just installed the new wireless router -- does anyone bother to change the default password from “admin?” Seems like a lot of work for nothing!

Preston Langley: Will need to work all night again. Miss the wife and kids.

Zack Emo: Is yeah, but no, but yeah.

Kaylie Brittney: Took the quiz, "If you were an appliance, what would you be? And got the answer: "Cordless Cheese Grater.”

Zack Emo: Is in a relationship with Christine.

Sean Meringue: Is bored.

Perry Ziffel: Damned coyotes ate all of my corm in Farmville.

Preston Langley: This project would collapse without me. Looks like the programming specs are all wrong. Will have to rewrite entre thing. So tired. Another late night at the desk.

Linda Langley: Poor Preston is working late again tonight. What a good husband I have.

Melinda Minutia: Low on milk; may need to go out and buy some.

Stiffler’s Mom: Is in a relationship with Preston Langley.

Perry Ziffel: Barn fire in FarmVille!

Ophelia TwilightRain: Sent you a gift that didn't cost her a penny.

Sean Meringue: Call me; bored.

Joanna O’Blivious: Jimmy says one of his friends used our computer to surf porn sites! I’m sure glad Jimmy would never do that!

Mugsy Maples: I just hit Zowie with the Mayor McCheese pillow, a snowball, and a peapod pillow!

Zowie: Stop it, Mugsy.

Melinda Minutia: At store to buy milk. Back at the car when I realized I forgot light bulbs! Back to the store.

Zack Emo: Is single. Seriously like are you kidding me grow up already and stop acting like this? LOL.

Zack Emo: Christine I miss you.

Zack Emo: Is in a relationship with Christine.

Kaylie Brittney: Took the quiz, "What animal were you in a previous life?" and got the answer "Duck billed platypus in the 16th century."

Zack Emo: Is single.

Perry Ziffel: No rain for weeks, all the crops are dying in Farmville.

Preston Langley: Am I the only one who can save this company? 16 hour days, 7 days a week -- Now I have to go to ANOTHER trade show in Vegas! Would much rather be home with the kids and wife.

Linda Langley: Preston can’t call from Vegas conference, said he’s in meetings all day. Miss you! XOXO.

Melinda Minutia: Saw a squirrel in the tree! Hi Mr. squirrel.

Stiffler’s Mom: Vegas rocks! Our hotel room has a hot tub.

Ophelia TwilightRain: Has joined a cult that worships irrelevant turnips.

Mugsy Maples: I just hit Betty with a water balloon!

Zowie: I said STOP IT, Mugsy.

Mugsy Maples: I just hit Zowie with a cinder block and a steel I beam!

Zowie: Has taken out a restraining order against Mugsy Maples. [UNFRIEND Mugsy Maples]

Sean Meringue: Is bored.

Perry Ziffel: The cows are plotting against me in FarmVille!

Ophelia TwilightRain: My wish for 2010 is that people will understand that people who need more cowbell do not have a disease; people who need more cowbell are not looking for a cure but ACCEPTANCE.

Mugsy Maples: Just robbed ten banks, intimidated witnesses, and blew up three rival drug cartels in Mafia Wars!

Mugsy Maples: Laundered twelve million dollars for the DaVinci crime family in Mafia Wars!

Joanna O’Blivious: Bill, the kids and I are off for two fun-filled weeks in the Bahamas so we won’t be around the house at all! We’ll miss the large-screen TV and all those tech toys, as well as the Oak Street block party, will be back by the 4th for the security company to fix the broken alarm system.

Mugsy Maples: Indicted by the grand jury in Mafia Wars!

Perry Ziffel: No rain for a month, crops dying in FarmVille!

Mugsy Maples: Turned State’s evidence in Mafia Wars!

Mugsy Maples: Just wants to put this all behind him and get on with his life in Mafia Wars!

Melinda Minutia: Going to bed!! Have a good night all.

Robert Gillis: Loves Facebook and will continue to make fun of it.

Due to Google’s decision to stop FTP and force users to store files on their blogspot servers, I will be dropping Blogger for a new content management system to retain control over our files.

While this is being researched and implemented, you’ll see changes to the look and feel of this site, but the content will remain available and the site will remain active and updated.

Google calls time on Blogger FTP: "Host with us or nothing"

http://www.vanshardware.com/2010/02/google-kills-bloggers.html

http://www.theregister.co.uk/2010/02/03/google_bloggers_ends_ftp/

http://buzz.blogger.com/2010/01/important-note-to-ftp-users.html

http://www.instablogs.com/outer_permalink.php?p=google-to-shut-down-ftp-for-blogger-thousands-cry-out-in-terror-2010-01-23

by Robert Gillis, published in the Foxboro Reporter 2/2009

[Full disclosure: This is not a paid review, I just thought it would be nice to write a review about the extraordinary performance of RENT, playing here in Foxboro at the Orpheum Foxboro – no one asked me to do this.]

During the "Halloween Song" of the stage production of the play, "RENT," one of the characters wonders, "How could a night so frozen be so scalding hot?" The question was perfectly timed last Friday night: Outside, the arctic tundra of a Massachusetts January evening had frozen everything solid, yet inside the Orpheum Foxboro; a scalding, scorching presentation of RENT was being enjoyed by an enraptured audience.

Bay Colony Productions continues to present professional quality stage plays, musical theatre, dance, musical events, youth theater programs, charity events and concerts, movies and family entertainment (and a wonderful Haunted House in October).

The performance of RENT I saw with a packed house at the Orpheum on opening night quite literally blew me away. Holy smokes, stage productions in New York don’t have the quality and energy we witnessed Friday.

Having no previous knowledge of the RENT storyline besides a cursory glace on the internet, I let the story unfold naturally, I was hooked from the first note, as the 17 cast members performed what appeared to be a flawless execution of the play. No missed cues, no flubbed lines, no opening night missteps.

The paradox of this play -- at least to me – is that the songs, choreography, costumes and cast interaction is so good that sometimes one forgets the very real issues they are singing about.

The performance became so very, very real that I felt like an intruder, a voyeuristic watching people’s personal lives unfold as they dealt with life and death issues of AIDS, alongside complex questions of relationships, sexual identity, loss of dignity, emotional baggage, what to do with your life, drug addition, toxic relationships, illness, poverty, and of course, how to pay (or not pay) the rent. Although the play takes place almost 25 years ago, its themes are just as relevant today – we still don’t have a cure for AIDS, and gay and bisexual concerns and rights are even more relevant in 2010.

Straight, gay, bi or somewhere in between, everyone deserves to love and be loved, and everyone deserves the same rights. This play illustrates this effectively and beautifully, but never in your face – the story unfolds naturally; the underlying themes are there – obvious but never never expositional. It all feels very real.

I just cannot say enough good things about this performance. The actors were uniformly excellent. The singing and dancing – whether to happiness, confusion or crisis – was a natural extension of the action and never felt forced. There was very real sensuality and sexual chemistry between the different lovers. The words and actions are risque and mature without becoming lewd or crass.

In short, what I saw felt real. Even though 99% of the play is sung, it was easy to forget I was watching a play -- the acting was that good.

No one is miscast. Kevin Hanley (Roger), who seemed to have a James Dean vibe going on, grabbed the audience from the first note and his powerhouse voice never let us go. Albert Jennings (the cross-dressing Angel and easily the most beloved character) was hilarious and sexy but somehow innocent and silly. Chauncey Moore played Benny the landlord with just the right amount of New York City hot-shot arrogance and smoothness. Eric Desnoyer (Mark) provides needed exposition via his omnipresent camera. And Tom (Michael Dimascolo) seemed to steal many of the scenes he was in. His acting was particularly powerful; his body actions did an excellent job conveying his poverty and dissatisfaction with his life. His scenes with his lover Angel were uniformly perfect. You believe these two actors are a loving couple. And the wordless way Tom held Angel [Spoiler alert] as Angel died made me cry.

As Mimi, Jess Andra had me with the flirty, poignant, “Will you light my candle?” She was wonderful. I loved her performance and I think she made the biggest impression on many in the audience. Her character says she’s 19, but her hooker-like apparel and drug use make her so much older, and yet she’s still a child inside.

Shayna Ross as Maureen is the enigma wrapped in a riddle surrounded by a puzzle and she has a LOT to stay. Certainly many of the most entertaining moments were from her “one woman show.” And Joanne (Leeta White) was also exceptionally good, especially in her scenes with her lover Maureen as the two played off their love/hate relationship.

The ensemble supporting cast added much to the show and made it seem larger than it was. Whether they simply sat quietly, sulked, or observed the action, or participated in song, they added the needed population to make this “New York” seem real.

I loved the set – an elegant combination of old furniture, chain link fences, doors, scaffolding, graffiti, boarded up doors, signs, old tires and perfect lighting.

Dori Bryan, the Director/Choreographer for RENT, has created a TRIUMPH. THANK YOU! On the scale of one to ten, can I give the show and "11?" And while the behind the scenes credits would be quite lengthy, I would be remiss without complimenting producer Bill Cunningham, whose management of the Orpheum benefits Foxboro in so many ways, and to costume designer Daniel Kozar (the costumes were spot-on) and to Michael Teixeira, Ed DiMarzio, Gail Gilman and everyone else at the Orpheum who worked countless hours, often behind the scenes, on these labors of love, performing not only their own multiple job descriptions but doing what else is needed as well.

Friends, I’m not a regular theater goer and certainly not a comprehensive reviewer and my complete knowledge of the nuance of RENT comes from one viewing last Friday -- but I know what I like, what I love and what blows me away. I recognize quality when I see it. This was textbook QUALITY theater.

RENT at the Orpheum Foxboro surprised me a dozen different ways last Friday night and the standing ovations at both the intermission and finale would seem to indicate everyone else felt the same way, this play is a triumph.

Everyone involved have literary knocked this out of the park.

RENT is for mature audiences, but despite the themes of AIDS, death, confusion and generally sadness, there is also true joyousness, genuine love, and new life discoveries throughout the performance.

There is “No day but today,” the cast sings during RENT. “There's only us, there’s only this, Forget regret, or life is yours to miss, No other road, No other way, No day but today.”

That’s good advice. Take today and go see RENT at the Orpheum. www.Orpheum.org. Through February 7.

(All photos in this post courtesy of Bill Cunningham and copyright Bill Cunningham and Bay Colony productions)

by Robert Gillis
Published in the Foxboro Reporter 2/2010 and Boston City Paper 3/2007

He’s about seventeen years old, awkward as hell, and trying his best to look cool while standing on a pair of skis for the first time. Beautiful girls swoosh by, making the skiing look easy. Little kids—some as young as five—also whoosh down the difficult trails, looking like Olympic material.

The teenager remembers the words of his friend John: “You don’t need to take lessons. To stop, just bring the skis together like this.” He slides a few feet, brings the skis together as instructed, and promptly somersaults into the snow. Getting back up on two feet with all the grace of an elephant on stilts, he steadies himself. “This is only a bunny hill. Little kids can handle it, you’ll have no trouble!”

With a push, he’s off! (His rocker, that is). Within four seconds, he’s flailing, within another two, he’s on his face, and within ten he’s at the bottom of the hill, desperately trying to remember his blood type for the EMTs that will surely come for him.

Another run down the hill follows. He actually flies impressively about ten feet before attempting to slow down. The resulting fall this time is right out of the cartoons; he feels like a snowball rolling out of control, skis, feet and hands flying every which way, until he finally flops onto a snow bank.

A child—five, maybe six—whooshes over, skiing to a perfect stop and squeaks, “Hey, Mister, are you okay?”

Embarrassed and soaked, the would-be-skier just snarls, “Go away, kid.”

Back at the top of the bunny hill, he thinks about the waiver he had to sign, which read something like, “The ski place isn’t responsible if you break any of the 600 bones in your body (or if you die doing this), but you are responsible if you break our skis.”

Our hero makes three more runs down the bunny hill. He collides with a young woman on the first run, wipes out on the second, and on the last run, finally makes it all the way down the bunny hill until he finally collides with the snow fence separating the slopes from the highway. Dazed and sore, he decides skiing isn’t his sport.

And thus ends the official and absolutely true account of my first and only attempt to ski. After my less than stellar attempt at skiing so many years ago, I’d decided never again to try it. I had cheated death, and knew that the unforgiving bunny slope would certainly get me next time.

But a few weeks ago, I gave the skiing thing another try. My wife and I were away for a glorious, inexpensive 24 hour vacation—we were going to try cross-county skiing.

“No we’re not,” I protested, “I nearly died doing that.”

“Cross-country skiing,” she emphasized. “It’s not like we’re going down any black diamond trails.”

Before I knew it, we were in New Hampshire, at the wonderfully familiar cabins where my family had spent so many happy vacations for almost twenty summers. Gazing fondly at the snow covered landscape, I reflected that I was about to create a new memory here at the old mountain home, or die here, at the old mountain home.

Despite my concerns about my impending snowy demise, I couldn’t help reflecting how happy I was to be back in Bartlett. Every memory of this rural New Hampshire town is a happy one, and in all the times I’ve returned here, I’ve felt at home.

Before I knew it, I was lacing up a pair of futuristic looking purple booties and learning how to snap the boots to the skis. We were off!

You’d think that the simple fact that cross-county skiing is on a FLAT surface would make a lot of difference, but it doesn’t. We were still flopping all over the place, each taking turns losing our balance and falling into snow banks. Any indication of success, such as, “Hey, I think I’m getting the hang of this!” was always immediately followed by a loud cry and a flop in the snow.

Feeling brave after five minutes without a fall, I tried a little hill by the Saco River. As I expertly navigated the twenty-foot slope, I jubilantly announced, “I did it! I did it! Did you see this?” just as I wiped out and married another snow bank.

Over the next few hours, (and after many falls) we started to get the hang of it, and as I swished along the snow, I realized that I was living in a perfect moment. The sky was absolutely clear and bright blue, the temperature a comfortable 25 or so, and the wind was mild. It occurred to me that I hadn’t thought about any of the problems or issues in my life during that entire time. I wasn’t thinking about work, or stress, or anything else. My biggest concern was making my way across the beautiful snow covered landscape.

Within 24 hours, I’d be back at the desk, but as I swished along a perfectly groomed snowy trail, all that mattered was the wonderful feeling of being outside on a perfect day, in a place I love, trying to do something new and challenging. For that precious day, nothing else was important.

I’ve learned that the best vacations can be those inexpensive, spontaneous moments in time that we grab from our busy schedule. Those are the real vacations that put everything in perspective. And sometimes, you even get to retry something that had eluded you the first time.

Now, if I could just make it down the bunny hill without killing myself, life would be perfect. Maybe next time. And there WILL be a next time. This experience was too rewarding not to repeat. I WILL conquer that bunny hill one of these days.

This is the eulogy that I wrote for Bob and read at his funeral.

How do you summarize and eulogize such a magnificent human being and a life so very, very well lived? How do you properly celebrate someone so extraordinary who not only gave, and gave, and gave, but more importantly -- inspired others to do the same, all the while supporting a family and holding down numerous jobs?

No matter what gets written, and what gets spoken, it can’t measure up, or do justice to, the legacy of Bob “Papa” Shea.

That legacy is so rich -- five children, nine grand children, seven great grand children, dozens of honorary members of the Bob Shea family, and more friends -- real friends -- than anyone.

Bob Shea was no-nonsense but loving, generous in the extreme, and had a wonderful sense of humor. And he was also a guy who spoke his mind. Oh, boy, he spoke his mind. You knew where you stood with Papa Shea.

A few weeks back, my wife Susan asked Bob to come with her to La Salette Shrine to see the Christmas lights.

Bob asked, “Is the heathen coming?”

He meant me. Papa Shea’s not-so-subtle way of telling me I need to start going to church again. And he would say it with a smile. I can’t count the number of times he would make me laugh; or tell me an amazing story about his life, or something he did to help people.

But more often than not, when you were with Bob, he talked about his family. And judging by the amount of time he spoke of them, his family was the greatest love of his life. There were the pictures, and the pictures, and the pictures! And the stories, and the light in his eyes, as he told you of the adventures of his grand children and great-grand children. He loved them all so much and would regale you with their stories of winning a game, an achievement in school, a birthday party, or a trip to the beach or family gathering.

He LOVED the kids so much.

And he had equal pride in the accomplishments of his adult children and their spouses, and he spoke so proudly of what they have achieved in their careers and families.

Bob loved completely. He loved all of you with his entire heart and soul.

That love was nurtured in his hometown of Rosedale, New York -- a multi-national, multi-generational neighborhood that set so many of his core values into his soul -- Family. Community. Generosity. Friendship. The value -- and joy -- in productive work. Respect for others. And an insatiable desire to be involved, to help. To make things better for others. And to light the way for the next generation to follow.

Bob’s life was all about helping others. One of the groups in town Bob loved was the Jaycees, and he best exemplified that line from our creed that reads, “Service to humanity is the best work of life.”

When called, Bob served. And when he saw a need, Bob not only volunteered but rallied and led others to help the cause.

He served this Nation honorably during wartime. Afterward, to support his young family, he endured 22 months of exile as an electrician near the North Pole -- working in frigid, hellish conditions to send money back home. He worked a variety of jobs, sometimes -- often -- two at a time. He ran many of his own businesses, including restaurants.

His life took him across the country and in 1972, to our great fortune, he arrived in Foxboro, where he worked as a judge at the Foxboro Raceway, where he also raised and raced his beloved horses.

He was an active member of the Foxboro community and exemplified volunteerism and community service at its very best.

His “resume” would fill volumes: Past master of the Grange, and twice president of the Elder Gram—the predecessor to COA. Bob was a member of the Knights of Columbus AND Saint Alban’s Masonic Lodge. He created a program that brought gladiolas to the elderly. He was a driving force in the “Save our Sports” program for the Ahern School. Each Christmas Eve, he and another friend would bring poinsettias to the widows in Foxboro. He used to grow flowers in his own garden and bring them to employees at local banks and restaurants. He often made someone “queen for a day” and brought them little presents and flowers. When we needed a food pantry box at Shaws; all it took was a call to the Knights and Bob Shea built it.

Perhaps most significantly, Bob was one of the originators of the Foxboro Farm Stand for the discretionary fund. In addition to the years of hard work making that dream a reality, he also tended his own garden and gave the bounty to the farm stand.

In 1991 he said, “This way I have the joy of growing the garden, and the kids have the joy of receiving toys at Christmas time.”

And during that time, as busy as he was, he single-handedly coordinated the first “Rosedale Roundup” of over 1200 past and present members of his hometown. That was Bob — reuniting and maintaining community. In a picture of the first round-up, there’s a young Bob Shea with an old-fashioned camera around his neck.

I’m sure that’s how many people in this church remember Bob -- the cameraman. Bob was the official photographer for the family and his community and friends, and he loved capturing special moments as gifts. On Founder’s Day, at weddings, christenings and family events, he would take pictures and then race to the one-hour photo and back to the event to ensure the images were presented the same day.

And friends, the small list just read is only a fraction of the acts of kindness Bob Shea performed. Because so very many of Bob’s community efforts were “under the radar.” Over the years, how many children had toys on Christmas because of Bob’s help at the farm stand? How many acts of kindness did he perform that we will never know about? How many times did he say something kind or inspirational to a young person? How many people did he help just by being himself? How many lives did he make better?

The answer? Far more than we will ever know.

We all have our stories of Bob; this one’s a good example of how I remember his sense of humor and story telling. A few years back, Bob stopped by my house while my wife was getting an old car running. The car made so much smoke while starting that Bob took me by the arm and said, totally matter-of-factly, “Let’s sit over there so when it explodes we don’t get killed.” He then regaled me with a tale of meeting Jimmy Stewart and Clark Gable, and his adventures at the North Pole.

He took such interest in people. If we were at a restaurant, he would ask the waitress what she was studying in school, or ask to see pictures of her children. And you couldn’t go out with Bob without bumping into someone he knew. And everyone was always glad to see him. Their affection for him was obvious.

And I would love to just listen to him -- like the time he spoke with pride at the pictures he got at the original Woodstock. Or how he flirted with the waitresses as all the restaurants in Florida. ALL the waitresses. At ALL the restaurants. More often then not, there was a picture of a young, beautiful waitress, or flight attendant, giving Bob a kiss on the cheek.

An outing with Bob was also a history lesson -- he had an incredibly sharp mind and his attention to detail was meticulous. You’d drive with him and he’d point -- “There used to be a great restaurant there,” “That’s where so-and-so worked as a mechanic,” “I remember when that house was owned by a friend of mine…” “There used to be great fishing in that lake…” and so on.

When Bob traveled -- and he loved to do so, he always chose the road less taken, and he stopped to get to know people, seek out the local Grange or Knights, and make new friends.

Speaking of travel, Bob’s family took him to the Bahamas a few years ago. Before the trip, Bob went to Wal-Mart and bought bags of new clothes, not for himself, but for the needy in the Bahamas, which he donated to a local church as soon as got off the ship.

That’s Bob Shea. That’s what he did. That’s who he was.

I asked family and friends to help describe Bob Shea; They said: He loved people. Always loved horses. He loved to live. Always well dressed. Paid attention to detail. Listened to YOU when you talked. What a memory. Everywhere he goes, he touches people’s life for the better. He appreciated the small things in life like a good meal. If you did anything no matter how small for him, he was so appreciative. Story teller. Most giving man in the world. So generous. Always had the camera, always took the pictures. One of God’s angels. Everybody’s “Papa” Shea.

Last week, before Bob passed away, the town of Foxboro awarded Bob a certificate recognizing his years of service. In part, it said, “Bob Shea has nurtured the sense of community that has made Foxboro so unique since its founding, an example of how many people can be touched by the caring of a single person. We remain indebted to Bob for his sense of caring, his willingness to work tirelessly to help others, and for the inspiration he provides our future generations.”

There was such a light around Bob Shea. And while the world is a little darker place without him here, I believe that we all have a new guardian angel, who is doubtless already volunteering to help us.

We pray to the good Lord that Bob is at Peace, in Heaven, and we thank God for the beautiful gift -- that was the life of Bob “Papa” Shea.

---

You can read the profile I wrote of Bob in March 2009, which he loved, HERE

---

My wife Susan wrote this about Bob Shea:

I am convinced that Bob was one of God’s angels that walked among us. There are no words I can use to describe how blessed I feel to have had him in my life and to have experienced his unconditional love.

Bob told me that he considered me like a daughter to him and I was so proud to consider him like a father. Bob was the gentlest, kind, selfless, giving, loving person I know. He was and will always continue to be the best person I have ever known.

Bob made my life and the lives of so many so much better. He lifted me up every day when we spoke regardless of how he was feeling.

Bob was so funny and took great pride in making people smile and feel good. He taught me so much about so much. There was no subject that he was not familiar with and was able to share his wisdom about. Including telling it like it is.

He was not very rich in money… but he was the wealthiest man I have ever known.

Bob was also one of the strongest men and the most interesting person. There are just not adequate words to describe him or enough time to tell about him or share the amazing stories.

Despite my knowledge that his spirit will always remain with us and that I am grateful that he is free from pain, I find myself unable to imagine my life or this world without him. I pray that his beautiful spirit may rest … but knowing him…he is probably already telling everyone how to make things better and what to do …. and how to improve heaven. Bob, you were my angel here on earth and now, I know that you will be my angel in heaven.

by Robert Gillis Published in the Foxboro Reporter 12/2009

As a very proud member of the Foxboro Jaycees since 1993, I have seen first hand the fantastic work this group does for Foxboro – Community development, donations, scholarships, and creating better leaders are just some of the things we do every day.

Without question, December is the Jaycees' busiest Community Development month of the year. For example, you may not know that the Christmas and Holiday decorations around Foxboro Common are put up and taken down by the Jaycees each year, and we have placed the Nativity set on the common for the last fifty years, on the bandstand the Jaycees built.

You may also not know that the bandstand was horribly vandalized by local teens over the summer. After one of our free concerts on the common, I was horrified by what I saw written and drawn into all of the bandstand floor and walls – graphic sexual drawings, filthy sayings, and far more unprintable filth. I don’t understand the need for teens to do so much damage. The Jaycees will need to spend hundreds of hours re-sanding and painting the bandstand when the weather gets better. While I have absolutely no faith that the guilty parties will come forward, may I at least ask them to consider the horrific damage done, and emphasize that the Foxboro police are keeping a very close eye on the bandstand?

On that cheery note, I would like to present a list of some of the many Jaycee activities we are presenting around town this season, and hope you can join us.
As always check out our web site, www.Foxborojaycees.org, for all the latest updates.

Sand for Seniors: During winter, we deliver buckets of sand/salt to home-bound seniors to keep their walkways slip-free. To arrange for a delivery, a senior need only give Jaycee Mohsen Khalifa a call: 508-543-2621.

Christmas decorations on the Common. It’s not the town, it’s the Jaycees that put up those beautiful lights on the Common. Each December, the Foxboro Jaycees decorate Foxboro Common with bows and wreaths, and place lights on the hedges at the foot of the Common. Saturday, December 5, 2009 at 9:00am. Foxboro Common. ** The public is very welcome to come help us with this important endeavor! **

Nativity set on the Foxboro Common. Each December, the Foxboro Jaycees set up the Nativity Scene on Foxboro Common, on the bandstand the Jaycees built years ago. The Jaycees store the set all year, and repaint, repair, and refurbish it as necessary. We have just finished the latest refurbishing. Saturday December 5, 2009 at 9:00am. Jaycees: if you're early, meet at Camp Lincoln Hill; otherwise please come to the common to help with set up.

Santa on the Common. Each December, the Foxboro Jaycees welcome Santa Claus to Foxboro Common for a free afternoon of pictures with Santa, cookies, and other surprises. Each year we welcome about 300 kids. Saturday December 12 at Noon. Foxboro Common.

Yankee Swap at the December 9 GM. Wednesday, December 9, 2009, 8pm. South Foxboro Community Center. Anyone 21 or over is welcome to come to our general membership meeting any time.

New blanket collection for discretionary fund. The Jaycees are collecting NEW blankets (any size, shape, color; king, queen, twin, baby, fleece, throw, etc). We hope to collect as many as possible and include them with our fruit baskets during the discretionary fund Christmas food deliveries. Ongoing until fruit basket assembly night (12/20)

Fruit Baskets. The Jaycees gather and create 200 baskets of fresh fruit that we deliver with the discretionary fund food boxes. Sunday December 20 at 5:00pm. South Foxboro Community Center.

Adopt a kid for Christmas: Each year, the Jaycees sponsor a child through the Foxboro Discretionary Fund and help make their Christmas wishes come true.

Caroling on the Common: Thursday, December 17 at 6:00pm on Foxboro Common.

Have Santa call your child. Each December, the Foxboro Jaycees make special arrangements with the North Pole Telephone Company to have Santa Claus call local children. Tuesday and Wednesday December 15 and 16th from 6:00--7:30. To have Santa call your child, please send an email to santa@foxborojaycees.org. Please make the email subject "Santa Phone" and include the following information: * Which date you would like Santa to call (December 15 or 16) * Names and ages of the children being called.

The Foxboro Jaycees invite you to any or all of these events and encourage you to check out our web site at www.Foxboro jaycees.org for constant updates! If you have any other questions please email info@foxborojaycees.org

By Robert Gillis
Published in the Foxboro Reporter and Boston City Paper, 12/2009

"DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old. "Some of my BFFs and Frenemys say there will be no Christmas in 2012 because the world is going to end on December 21, 2012 – four days before Christmas. Last year (and the year before, and the year before) you told me Santa Claus DOES exist. Papa says, 'If you see it in THE FOXBORO REPORTER it's so.' Please tell me the truth; if Santa Claus does exist, what is he doing to ensure we have Christmas in 2012? -- Sincerely, Virginia Boughs-O’Holly, Foxboro.

Virginia, for the seventeenth time, Santa Claus is real, OK? Stop writing to ask me that every year. It was cute for while, now it’s just plain annoying. But I must say, you little scamp, that your letter warms my heart. The world is ending, humanity is 35 months away from extinction, and you want to make sure you still get your Christmas presents. That’s so adorable. And by adorable I mean disheartening.

Anyway, your little friends are right! As everyone knows by now, the Mayan calendar ends on the Winter Solstice, 2012, and experts in science, religion, astronomy, history, astrology, dance instruction, and the X-Files all agree with the Mayan predictions: Time’s up for Earth!

According to extensive research and informed sources (Wikipedia) The Mayan Prophecy is 120% accurate. On December 21, 2012, we can definitely expect unprecedentedly gigantic solar flares causing the continents to shift, the rise of the machines, a nearby supernova, the explosion of the black hole at the center of our galaxy, a gamma ray burst, asteroids / meteors / comet impacts, a massive extraterrestrial invasion, a magnetic pole shift, a new ice age, the previously invisible 12th planet Nibiru smashing into Earth, or just a normal day where nothing much happens at all. Everyone on Earth is unanimous in their opinion that one of these scenarios will definitely occur that day.

With that in mind, Santa Claus – who I have told you seventeen times, IS REAL -- has made the following changes to his routine for the Christmas season three years from now:

First, and most importantly, in 2012, Santa has requested that Christmas Day will be moved to June 25, 2012. The reasons are two: 1) The weather will be nicer; 2) after December 21, 2012, all that remains of Earth will likely be exploding into space at twice the speed of sound. Whether we will have a white Christmas will be the least of our problems.

Second, in anticipation of the big goodbye three years hence, Santa’s workshop has closed its toys division and is working full-time on ‘2012’ themed gifts. On Christmas Eve (June 24) 2012, Santa will be delivering aluminum foil hats (to prevent telepathic control by the space aliens), an asteroid deflector (made of sturdy tin), “12-21-12” sweatshirts (to keep you warm in case of an ice age), “Last Day 12.21.12” t-shirts (to keep you cool in case of a nuclear meltdown and/or volcano) and sunglasses (in case of solar flares, cosmic ray burst or the Earth exploding). Please note: Santa’s lawyers insist that he informs you that these items are for novelty purposes only and will likely not protect you from, or prevent, the apocalypse.

Third, Santa will be stuffing stockings with digital cameras, noting that the end of the world will offer numerous opportunities for photography and capturing memories of the day the solar system exploded. Of course, how these photos will be printed (and by whom) is problematic at best, but the thought was there, anyway.

And fourth, Santa reminds all good little children to get their letters in EARLY in 2012, because anyone planning ANYTHING after 12/21/2012 is just a hopeless optimist. Yep, “hopeless optimist.” Santa Claus really said that. See, Virginia, after all these years of YOU doubting HIM, we learn that Santa is a REALIST. Ironic, no?

Finally Virginia, I need to make a correction to my response to your letter last year: I originally said: “No Santa Claus! Thank God! He lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.” That response to you needs to be revised as follows: “No Santa Claus! Thank [deleted by the ACLU] he lives, and he lives until 2012. Three years from now, nay, thirty six months from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood as the sun aligns with the galactic center and the world ends all around us in spectacular destruction.”

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus… And he’s ready for 2012. The question you should be asking, my dear, is… ARE YOU? Merry Christmas, Virginia. Sweet dreams!

This is kind of fun -- there's no prize involved, but I won the "Caption Contest" on the Superman Homepage last month :)

Each month they post a silly superman picture and invite readers to post humorous captions.

Fame and fortune sure to follow! (Read: I need a life) But check out the site; it's excellent.

http://www.supermanhomepage.com/inter-action/caption-contest/index.php?topic=121509

Winner:

robertgillis:
Dear Editor,
I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Superman. Papa says, "If you see it on the Superman Homepage it's so." Please tell me the truth, is there a Superman?
Virginia O'Hanlon

by Robert Gillis

UPDATED 1/22/2009:As completed as possible!

Since the early 1990s, Boston radio station Magic 106.7 (home of the famous David Allan Boucher "BEDTIME MAGIC" show) has played a beautiful 18 hour selection of traditional Christmas carols beginning at 6pm Christmas Eve. For the most part, the set list has been pretty much the same, with a few tweaks.

Years ago, just for fun, I realized I wanted to know the set list so I could start collecting the CDs of this beautiful music.

I called the station but they didn’t have a set list, and while the DJs were happy to list a few songs I couldn’t very well ask for a verbal list of 18 hours of music.

So over time and Christmases I started making a list of each hour and every song I could identify by name and artist. Since the majority were instrumental, and some I’d never heard of (“Sheep may safely graze?”) This took longer than expected. But it became sort of a fun hobby / challenge.

I called the lovely Candy O'Terry at Magic and she listed a few songs for me, and I am indebted to program director Mark Laurence who answered several emails with names and artists, totaling a dozen or so.

And I am very grateful to the Magic 106.7 “Overnight Guy,” as he called himself, who told me he works Christmas Eve each year so other Magic employees can spend the time with their families. In 2008 he also told me the names and artists for another small bunch of songs.

With the clues I had, I realized I’d never heard of some of these artists, like Esteban, or Dino, or the Stylistics. But then I realized that many of the artists were under the “Narada” and “Windham Hill” family of musicians. I had my leads!

So, I guess I’ve been slightly obsessed, buying LOTS of Christmas Carol CDs, but I have (almost) the complete companion to the set list from “Magic of Christmas” and a wonderful new collection of beautiful Christmas CDs.

I know there are many people in Boston and the surrounding area who love the “Magic of Christmas” show; you can CLICK HERE for my excel spreadsheet for the set list, which features each hour’s song list and the artist (and album title if I could find it).

I encourage you to check out some of these artists for some truly beautiful Christmas music, and of course, listen to Magic!

If you get a moment, call the station at 617-931-1067 and tell the folks at Magic how much you enjoy the Magic of Christmas.

And thank you to Magic 106.7 for a great station and a wonderful Christmas tradition, and for introducing me to such a variety of beautiful Christmas music.

---

UPDATE January 22, 2010: Despite my best efforts and research, there were 41 artists I could not identify, and this project was shelved for a year... On a whim (read: I decided to beg) I sent the list to Magic, and Candy O’Terry offered to ask an intern, Anthony, to review my list and fill in the gaps. He wasn't able to find all of them -- after all, this collection was assembled nearly 20 years ago) so there are still some 15 "unknowns," but Anthony's "audit" was far more than I could have hoped for.

Now, working at a radio station is more than a full time job so for anyone to offer to do this is extraordinarily kind. I am overwhelmed by the generosity and so very grateful to Anthony, to Candy O’Terry, and program director Mark Laurence.

Completion of this list may seem like a small (read: silly) thing, but this quest has become something of an obsession – I am VERY grateful to Candy for taking the time to help me (almost) complete this list! To everyone at Magic 106.7, especially Candy and Anthony -- you guys ROCK! Well, "Continuous Soft Rock," according to the promos :)

With all these new hints and information, I re-audited the CDs I have, and God bless Amazon.com’s feature that allows you to listen to a snippet of a song – that gave me a few more. So after even more work and the serious realization I need a life, I have completed this as much as possible and it is time to close this project. But if anyone out there knows any of the “ARTIST UNKNOWNS,” please let me know, obsessions don't go away

I will post the completed list shortly.

Answer: Really F@#$%&!g fast.

2009 Halloween Night in Salem Massachusetts ROCKED!

It’s a wild night of tens of thousands of costumed party-goers walking the streets of the bewitching seaport: part Mardi Gras, part New Years Eve, and all Halloween.

Salem, the unofficial Halloween capital of the world, has a fascinating history, but it is in October that the city explodes in a celebration that often defies description.

There is so much to do, so much to see, and 2009's celebration was extra special because of perfect weather (almost 70 in the day) Halloween falling on a Saturday, and a very well behaved crowd of almost 100,000!

Enjoy this gallery of over 100 images I took that night, and by all means visit Salem! CLICK HERE!

by Robert Gillis Published in the Foxboro Reporter, (revised) 10/2009, 10/1996 and the Boston City Paper 10/2006

There is something very special and magical about Halloween night. The sky seems darker, the moon fuller and more ominous looking, and the air itself seems charged and foreboding. The sound and smell of dead leaves as they blow across the streets seems crisp and eerie. The clouds, lit by the moon, create scary patterns across the sky.

I vividly remember the Halloweens when I was a kid. We spent the entire month of October decorating the house with pictures of ghosts, witches on brooms, pumpkins and scarecrows, and started thinking about what we wanted to be.

We’d go to nearby Uphams Corner to Kresgee and Diskay and sort through the cardboard boxes filled with costumes. There were piles of boxes with Superman, Barbie, GI Joe, Wonder Woman, Archie and Jughead, and generic ones like “Clown,” “Pirate” and “Bunny Rabbit.” We’d visit our own pumpkin patch – the local supermarket—and pick out two or three of the best specimens. That evening would be spent shoveling pumpkin-goo onto a newspaper, and carving bizarre faces into the hapless vegetable. We didn’t have any sort of Halloween lights for the windows, so I made a pumpkin on my “Light Bright” toy (remember that?) for all to see.

On Halloween, we’d go to Mom’s mother’s house in the afternoon, and Memere would make the traditional baked macaroni – delicious! By 5:00, the anticipation and frenzy had reached the breaking point as we rushed to get into our costumes and be made up. More often than not, I was Superman. Pictures were usually taken, and protests were filed as we were told we must wear coats over our costumes. Finally, my sister and our cousins, led by Mom, would enter the crisp autumn night.

Mrs. Rose, who made special treats for us in those little paper Halloween bags, was always the first stop. (I saw this lovely lady in 2008; she says she still makes over 75 bags of special treats every year!)

I remember the excitement as we raced from house to house, past the glowing jack-o-lanterns and occasional scarecrow. “Trick or Treat!” we’d gleefully shout, and Mom would remind us to say “Thank You” as a few bite-size treats were dropped into our plastic bags. God, I loved those Ressee’s peanut butter cups – I still do.

Even back then, there were older kids stealing bags and throwing eggs, but Mom’s presence prevented that from ever happening to us. By the hallway point, the masks were taken off, the bags were getting heavier, and poor Mom ended up carrying an armload of pumpkin-flashlights, batons, masks, and an assortment of other objects. Other parents walking by were similarly overloaded.

By 7:00, happily exhausted, we’d return to Memere’s house and sort through our booty. Mom inspected each piece for signs of tampering; the apples, loose candy-corn and unwrapped stuff was always tossed out despite our protests, but soon we were digging into the best chocolate, and thankfully Mom never mentioned the word “dentist” on Halloween.

We were shocked one year to discover that a candy bar actually contained a common pin—it was hard to believe someone could be that malicious, but there it was. Imagine the injury that could cause. However, that didn’t stop us from going back out the following year – one sick individual was not going to stop our fun – we’d just have to be even more careful. That’s good advice today, too.

I loved trick or treating (confession: I did it until I was 15). Kids these days who don’t go out that night are missing out on something special. Sure, indoor supervised parties are safer, and some communities now host structured parties and other activities as a way to keep pranks from turning into destructive rampages. But I feel that but nothing matches that magical feeling of stepping into the cold Halloween night air in your costume, bag in hand, ready to demand some serious goodies from the neighbors. The candy tastes better when you work for it. However, there is no excuse for any kind of prank as revenge on people who don’t give out candy.

And while I’m on the subject, I’d like to add something to the select few misfits in every town who roam the streets with shaving cream, eggs and toilet paper, stealing candy bags and making a nuisance of yourself – stay home. Someone has to clean up your mess, and no one appreciates it. Grow the hell up.

While Halloween has become a multi-million dollar costume business, it really doesn’t have to cost much to make a child happy. Costumes don’t have to be expensive (and the best are homemade) and a few bags of candy won’t break the bank. Little pumpkins can cost less than a dollar, and new knives are designed to be child proof, allowing a child to carve their own pumpkin without being injured.

Halloween night – a night of magic, candy and fun. Enjoy yourselves! Happy Halloween! Be safe!

by Robert Gillis, who really has too much time on his hands.
10/2009

Lunar officials declared war on Earth early Friday morning after NASA launched a preemptive strike on Cabeus Crater, home to thousands of Moonies, Moonites, and Moon-Units.

CNN had reported that NASA engineers crashed a rocket and a satellite into the moon's surface on Friday morning in a $79 million mission, to supposedly "kick up enough dust to find whether there is any water in the moon's soil."

Citizens of the Moon condemned the story as a cover-up by NASA to mask the real plot and intentions.

The moon news service, TMA-1, reported that the Centaur upper-stage rocket impacted the moon shortly after 7:30 a.m. EDT (27:11 Moon Standard Time), and the satellite followed it four minutes later, destroying the Moon’s capital city and injuring thousands of Moonites.

Lunar leaders called the attack, "A new day of infamy" and promised a swift response, as soon as the moon people develop space travel and modern technology.

Experts (Wikipedia) report that Cabeus crater lies in permanent shadow, making observations inside the crater difficult, and is home to several secret UFO bases.

We heard from some friends that the Foxboro Food Pantry could use some help -- needs are: Jelly (they never get jelly), and soups (the good chunky kind) and any other non-perishable canned food item. So if you think of it when you are at Stop and Shop or Shaws Sharon, drop a can or a jar of jelly or another non-perishable food item in the Food Pantry bin. There is need year round.

by Robert Gillis
Published in the Foxboro Reporter and Boston City Paper 10/2009


So there I am, working at the home computer on a yet another late night software promotion, and Sue calls around 8 – she’s got a flat, but no worries, she’s already called AAA. I asked her where she is; she’s a few miles away in a nearby town, so I tell her I’m on my way. Then I hear, “Gotta go, there’s a dog wandering in the street.”

I get to the scene of the aforementioned flat and there’s a large golden dog in the back seat of the car. We’ll call her Goldie (not her real name). She’s an old girl with a bad leg, but very clean, very alert, and very friendly. “Hi,” I say to Goldie, “Are you da boo dog?” The tail starts wagging, she’s licking my hand and we make friends in two seconds. Her tags reveal the car got its flat in front of the house where Goldie lives, but no one is home. Looks like the old girl staged a breakout!

I ask Sue to cancel the AAA call (“No problem, BOB’s here!”) I replace the tire with a donut while Sue calls the owners, whose number is on Goldie’s tags. When we don’t get a response after a while, we leave a note that Goldie is safe and for her family to call us when they get home. We figure it’s best to keep her safe at our place. I explain to Goldie that we’ll get her back to her people ASAP but in the meantime we need to keep her safe. She seems to understand, if the calm demeanor is any indication.

Having her in the house is strange; since our Missy’s passing to cancer back in June, for the first time ever, Sue and I don’t have a dog. But Goldie immediately makes herself at home, lying on my leg, enjoying the attention and patting and talk, and she lounges on the floor, and in general being a sweetheart. This is one angelic little pup.

Her family calls after an hour or so, and we bring Goldie back home to her people. They’re very grateful. Sue gives them some glucosamine to help with Goldie’s arthritis and shares some of the ways we helped some of our pups alleviate their arthritis and joint pain.

As we’re driving home, I think that flat tires are annoying, but maybe there was some divine intervention at work – there was no other reason for Sue to get a flat in front of that particular house, on a road she rarely travels, where a dog had broken free, unless someone up there wanted to ensure that Goldie would find the help she needed.

There’s coincidence and there’s proof staring you in the face – and I believe that last night’s meeting was not a coincidence – especially when I noticed that Goldie’s family has a beautiful statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary on the side of their house.

In a world filled with so much bad news, little moments like this renew my faith that there are higher powers are keeping an eye on all of us, especially our beloved canine angels.