Friends
A Night to Remember
03/18/11 04:20 PM
Last summer, shortly after The Running Waves was released; Ted and I were strategizing ways to
promote the book. We wanted to try some unconventional methods in hopes of gaining people’s
attention. Since music is its own character in the story, Ted came up with the entertaining idea of
having “Behind the Music” of the book night. Our good friend, Pat Bellavance said he would play the
songs, with Ted and me (who both lack any musical talent) giving brief summaries of why we chose each
song performed. The venue would be none other than The Quahog Republic Dive Bar, owned by friends,
Erik Bevans, Tom Hughes, and Jason Wallin. Things got even better when Pat said that his cousin Damien
Palanza, a friend of mine dating back to Morse Pond School playground, would be joining him in singing
the songs.
Ted and I were really thrilled and all we needed now was a date. All our weekends had already been
booked in advance with signings and other events, so it had to be a weeknight. With me working up in
Boston, the only time it could really happen would be my vacation week at the end of July. Ted spoke
with Pat and Erik and then called me.
“We’re all set with a date, bro. It’s going to be Thursday night, July 22nd.”
“Ah, man.” I exhaled. “You know, that’s the anniversary.”
“Oh, shoot. ...I forgot.” Pause. “What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know yet. Don’t commit. Let me think and I’ll call you back.”
And man did I think. Anniversary? God, I pondered the cruel irony. I normally associate anniversary with
celebration and cheerful occasions. Would it be right to promote a book by singing and laughing on
such a solemn date? July 22nd to me and to many others is what Good Friday is to Christians. I try to
spend that day in a quiet, peaceful place, still asking God, “Why?” And wondering how different things
would be if the inevitable never happened. I didn’t know what to do. I needed some answers and I knew
I could only get the right ones from Eric Steele.
After telling Eric our dilemma, he put my mind at ease. He said we should go through with it, stating that
it shouldn’t be a day of mourning, rather a day of celebrating Marc and Pete’s life. “Isn’t that why you
guys wrote the book in the first place?” He said and then followed with, “I think Marc and Pete would
want you to do it.” Eric had been in our corner from day one and having his approval was all we needed.
I told Ted my conversation with Steele and said to book the event.
The night came and people walked through the doors to support Pat, Damien, Erik, Tom, Jason, Ted and
me, but most of all, our community. Marc and Pete were connected to all of us and if you didn’t know
them personally you knew someone who did or you knew loss of your own. It turned out to be a lot of
fun, especially watching old friends reconnect. Everyone truly enjoyed themselves and each other.
To spend the anniversary surrounded by family, friends, and supporters was refreshing and we are so
thankful to all who made it possible. Going forward, maybe, just maybe, I along with everyone else
from that night will not think about the sting of 1993 on July 22nd and try to focus more on the love and comfort that congregated inside that affectionate bar room in 2010. To read about the songs and
reasoning behind why they were chosen click here.
promote the book. We wanted to try some unconventional methods in hopes of gaining people’s
attention. Since music is its own character in the story, Ted came up with the entertaining idea of
having “Behind the Music” of the book night. Our good friend, Pat Bellavance said he would play the
songs, with Ted and me (who both lack any musical talent) giving brief summaries of why we chose each
song performed. The venue would be none other than The Quahog Republic Dive Bar, owned by friends,
Erik Bevans, Tom Hughes, and Jason Wallin. Things got even better when Pat said that his cousin Damien
Palanza, a friend of mine dating back to Morse Pond School playground, would be joining him in singing
the songs.
Ted and I were really thrilled and all we needed now was a date. All our weekends had already been
booked in advance with signings and other events, so it had to be a weeknight. With me working up in
Boston, the only time it could really happen would be my vacation week at the end of July. Ted spoke
with Pat and Erik and then called me.
“We’re all set with a date, bro. It’s going to be Thursday night, July 22nd.”
“Ah, man.” I exhaled. “You know, that’s the anniversary.”
“Oh, shoot. ...I forgot.” Pause. “What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know yet. Don’t commit. Let me think and I’ll call you back.”
And man did I think. Anniversary? God, I pondered the cruel irony. I normally associate anniversary with
celebration and cheerful occasions. Would it be right to promote a book by singing and laughing on
such a solemn date? July 22nd to me and to many others is what Good Friday is to Christians. I try to
spend that day in a quiet, peaceful place, still asking God, “Why?” And wondering how different things
would be if the inevitable never happened. I didn’t know what to do. I needed some answers and I knew
I could only get the right ones from Eric Steele.
After telling Eric our dilemma, he put my mind at ease. He said we should go through with it, stating that
it shouldn’t be a day of mourning, rather a day of celebrating Marc and Pete’s life. “Isn’t that why you
guys wrote the book in the first place?” He said and then followed with, “I think Marc and Pete would
want you to do it.” Eric had been in our corner from day one and having his approval was all we needed.
I told Ted my conversation with Steele and said to book the event.
The night came and people walked through the doors to support Pat, Damien, Erik, Tom, Jason, Ted and
me, but most of all, our community. Marc and Pete were connected to all of us and if you didn’t know
them personally you knew someone who did or you knew loss of your own. It turned out to be a lot of
fun, especially watching old friends reconnect. Everyone truly enjoyed themselves and each other.
To spend the anniversary surrounded by family, friends, and supporters was refreshing and we are so
thankful to all who made it possible. Going forward, maybe, just maybe, I along with everyone else
from that night will not think about the sting of 1993 on July 22nd and try to focus more on the love and comfort that congregated inside that affectionate bar room in 2010. To read about the songs and
reasoning behind why they were chosen click here.
Comments
Stone's Barber Shop
02/23/10 04:41 PM
In elementary school, there were two things you could call me that would cause severe distress. The first was “stupid,” which always prompted me to give a quick and sarcastic retort. The second was “girl.” This insult angered and embarrassed me even more and instantly provoked a fight on the playground.
For reasons I sill cannot fathom, my mother and four older sisters believed I looked handsome with the “Dutch boy” haircut. Unfortunately, around town I was often mistaken as being the youngest Murphy girl. My mother told me not to pay attention to the comments, while my siblings thought it was comical.
After a skirmish landed me in the principal’s office, resulting in a phone call to my parents, my mother, with advisement from my father, finally let go of the “Ricky Shroeder” hair-do and gave the okay for the “boys regular.” My prayers had been answered. I was ecstatic. My older brother, Ted, knew there was only one place in Falmouth that could give me my new look.
On a brisk autumn day, Ted and I made the lengthy bike ride from the Heights all the way up to 210 Main Street, which was originally Stone’s Barber Shop and Beauty Salon. I walked into a room full of smiling faces. With shears in hand, all the barbers appeared eager to get a shot at transforming my appearance. That day, Phil, the older of the Stone brothers, received the honor.
“Alright, my boy. What are we doing today?” Phil asked.
I answered grinning from ear to ear, “Boys regular please!”
“Okey dokey, smoky.”
He started snipping with precision. My metamorphosis had officially begun. For the next twenty minutes, our conversation ranged from the slumping Red Sox, to the amazing Doug Flutie, to how “gross” math is. I gazed at my appearance in the mirror and was now able to see my ears. I couldn’t have been happier.
For reasons I sill cannot fathom, my mother and four older sisters believed I looked handsome with the “Dutch boy” haircut. Unfortunately, around town I was often mistaken as being the youngest Murphy girl. My mother told me not to pay attention to the comments, while my siblings thought it was comical.
After a skirmish landed me in the principal’s office, resulting in a phone call to my parents, my mother, with advisement from my father, finally let go of the “Ricky Shroeder” hair-do and gave the okay for the “boys regular.” My prayers had been answered. I was ecstatic. My older brother, Ted, knew there was only one place in Falmouth that could give me my new look.
On a brisk autumn day, Ted and I made the lengthy bike ride from the Heights all the way up to 210 Main Street, which was originally Stone’s Barber Shop and Beauty Salon. I walked into a room full of smiling faces. With shears in hand, all the barbers appeared eager to get a shot at transforming my appearance. That day, Phil, the older of the Stone brothers, received the honor.
“Alright, my boy. What are we doing today?” Phil asked.
I answered grinning from ear to ear, “Boys regular please!”
“Okey dokey, smoky.”
He started snipping with precision. My metamorphosis had officially begun. For the next twenty minutes, our conversation ranged from the slumping Red Sox, to the amazing Doug Flutie, to how “gross” math is. I gazed at my appearance in the mirror and was now able to see my ears. I couldn’t have been happier.
Once Phil finished, I got up from my seat and noticed a mass of golden locks piled around the chair. It felt great knowing soon that hair would be swept up and thrown in the trash, along with all the annoying insults. As I was leaving, Phil handed me a lollipop. “Hope to see you again, kid.” he said with a wink.
Following that day, Stone’s was the only spot I would go to get my “ears lowered.” If it wasn’t Phil cutting my mop, it was his younger brother Dickie, or the entertaining Augie. On behalf of all the men and boys in Falmouth, Massachusetts, I would like to say thank you to Stone’s Barber Shop for being more than just a place to get a haircut. We love you guys.
-Seton
Sail Away from Falmouth...
01/31/10 07:43 PM
If you’re a true New Englander you can’t help but finish that sentence by singing, “sail away on the Island Queen.” Some people love the jingle. Some people hate it. But all remember the song that draws thousands upon thousands of tourists every summer to Falmouth Harbor to take the ferry to the Vineyard. And isn’t that what a great commercial is supposed to do?
Living around the corner from the I.Q. (which is located on Falmouth Heights Road), I would ride my bike by hoping that someday I would work there.
My dream came true when I was 15. I was interviewed by the owner, Mr. Bardelis, a genuinely good man, and also by the affable Arthur Ratsy. They drilled me with questions and before I knew it, I was hired as a parking lot attendant.
My dream had come true.
But the first day I was given a duty that wasn’t in the job description. Arthur wheeled out a rusty, red lawn mower and instructed me to mow the overflow parking lot (behind John’s Liquors and 7-11) dubbed “Siberia”. Back then the lot wasn’t paved like it is now.
No, it was chest-high grass that hid broken bottles, baby diapers, and who knows what else. It took me eight hours to mow the lot, and at the end of the day, I was seriously considering quitting my “dream job”. That changed when Arthur pulled in and inspected my work.
He handed me a Coke, smiled and said, “Great work, kid. You passed the test. You’re an official employee. Go to Puritans tomorrow and pick up your uniform.”
Inside, I was beaming with pride but instead admitting that fact, I just grabbed the soda and drank it down in two gulps.
My plan was to work at the IQ for a couple of summers and then move onto a more lucrative summer job like bartending where the tips would help pay my college tuition big time. But as one summer lead into the next, I realized what I was receiving from the Island Queen was something much more than big money – it was laughs, life lessons, and friends who would become family to me (the Kozens brothers, Jay, Bails, Miller, Callahan, Wheeler, the Etlers, the Driscolls, Katie, Stoney, the Samples, Cam, Moore, Mansfield, Roc, Conners, Ray Paltz, Chauncy, Scotty, Rick R., T.K., Colin P., the Vallees, Lopesy, Mary, Gags, Olson, Alvesie, Jason B., Rebecca P, The Fitchs, Jessica M, Judy, M.D., Anthony, Gretchen, Hunter, and the list goes on and on.) - a dysfunctional family but it was a family hahahaha.
I ended up working at the Island Queen for 14 years because of those workers mentioned above and so many more (I didn’t even mention the regular customers who became friends).
But a working experience like the one I had happens because it starts from the top. I will always admire and be grateful to Mr. Bardelis and (now) his son, Charlie Jr. for the way they run the IQ. They gave me so many fond memories, and a few of them made it into The Running Waves, and then some are just fiction. At least, that’s what I will tell you if you ask. Haha
Want to take the family to the Vineyard…
Check out http://Islandqueen.com
Below is the McDonald’s commercial that talks about the Island Queen. What it fails to mention is when the IQ horn blows when it enters Falmouth Harbor it’s really a signal for the parking lot attendants to stop playing video games or eating that big sub (Craig) because they have about 12 minutes before the lot becomes an absolute zoo. When I heard the radio version of this commercial I almost drove off the road having flashbacks of the stampede of tourists rushing down Falmouth Heights Road for their cars.
Maybe the McDonalds’ people can have a question –
“Two brothers on the Cape who wrote a book?”
“T.M. Murphy and Seton Murphy.”
-Ted
Living around the corner from the I.Q. (which is located on Falmouth Heights Road), I would ride my bike by hoping that someday I would work there.
My dream came true when I was 15. I was interviewed by the owner, Mr. Bardelis, a genuinely good man, and also by the affable Arthur Ratsy. They drilled me with questions and before I knew it, I was hired as a parking lot attendant.
My dream had come true.
But the first day I was given a duty that wasn’t in the job description. Arthur wheeled out a rusty, red lawn mower and instructed me to mow the overflow parking lot (behind John’s Liquors and 7-11) dubbed “Siberia”. Back then the lot wasn’t paved like it is now.
No, it was chest-high grass that hid broken bottles, baby diapers, and who knows what else. It took me eight hours to mow the lot, and at the end of the day, I was seriously considering quitting my “dream job”. That changed when Arthur pulled in and inspected my work.
He handed me a Coke, smiled and said, “Great work, kid. You passed the test. You’re an official employee. Go to Puritans tomorrow and pick up your uniform.”
Inside, I was beaming with pride but instead admitting that fact, I just grabbed the soda and drank it down in two gulps.
My plan was to work at the IQ for a couple of summers and then move onto a more lucrative summer job like bartending where the tips would help pay my college tuition big time. But as one summer lead into the next, I realized what I was receiving from the Island Queen was something much more than big money – it was laughs, life lessons, and friends who would become family to me (the Kozens brothers, Jay, Bails, Miller, Callahan, Wheeler, the Etlers, the Driscolls, Katie, Stoney, the Samples, Cam, Moore, Mansfield, Roc, Conners, Ray Paltz, Chauncy, Scotty, Rick R., T.K., Colin P., the Vallees, Lopesy, Mary, Gags, Olson, Alvesie, Jason B., Rebecca P, The Fitchs, Jessica M, Judy, M.D., Anthony, Gretchen, Hunter, and the list goes on and on.) - a dysfunctional family but it was a family hahahaha.
I ended up working at the Island Queen for 14 years because of those workers mentioned above and so many more (I didn’t even mention the regular customers who became friends).
But a working experience like the one I had happens because it starts from the top. I will always admire and be grateful to Mr. Bardelis and (now) his son, Charlie Jr. for the way they run the IQ. They gave me so many fond memories, and a few of them made it into The Running Waves, and then some are just fiction. At least, that’s what I will tell you if you ask. Haha
Want to take the family to the Vineyard…
Check out http://Islandqueen.com
Below is the McDonald’s commercial that talks about the Island Queen. What it fails to mention is when the IQ horn blows when it enters Falmouth Harbor it’s really a signal for the parking lot attendants to stop playing video games or eating that big sub (Craig) because they have about 12 minutes before the lot becomes an absolute zoo. When I heard the radio version of this commercial I almost drove off the road having flashbacks of the stampede of tourists rushing down Falmouth Heights Road for their cars.
Maybe the McDonalds’ people can have a question –
“Two brothers on the Cape who wrote a book?”
“T.M. Murphy and Seton Murphy.”
-Ted
A Shout to some Local Friends
12/23/09 11:56 AM
If you’re on the Cape running around trying to figure out what gifts to buy and nothing comes to mind. Have no fear. Just go to www.go2536.com and check out the cool attire that is available. Great stuff for all your loved ones and trust me you’ll have a good laugh while you shop. But if you’re out just chillin in the 02536 and you’re “Marvin” like my friend Erika would say, then hit up The Burrito Place and see Damien, Rich and the rest of the gang for some damn good chow at 420 East Falmouth Highway. And if you don’t know, now you know…
If you’re not on the Cape and in or around Plymouth, go see the boys at Quahog Republic. Great clothes and cool knick knacks for stocking stuffers. You can always check them out online too at www.quahogrepublic.com. Don’t be cheap during the holiday season. It’s only once a year. Make it work. No room for cowards.
C-Dog & Bundy
If you’re not on the Cape and in or around Plymouth, go see the boys at Quahog Republic. Great clothes and cool knick knacks for stocking stuffers. You can always check them out online too at www.quahogrepublic.com. Don’t be cheap during the holiday season. It’s only once a year. Make it work. No room for cowards.
C-Dog & Bundy
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