Happy Halloween

Her Middle Name Is Beauty

The female love of my life

Jakes 11th Birthday Party

Jake really loves Renee and Rick. This was a small birthday party that Jake and Renee shared a few months ago. He looks at Renee as a grandother.......He really loves to be with renee.......

My Children

The most beautiful children in the world

The Good Father

Father Phil Burns from Greenpoint Church makes a surprise visit

An Angel named Angela

Angela was a great woman. I can say anything more than that. I knew this great woman for more than 25 years and I never knew how much I would miss her till she was gone....I miss her and all the wonderful things that she did for Jacquelyn and Jake

Boys and Basketballs

My Son and Griffen at a Celtics basketball game. My son loves to go with me to any sporting event. I really enjoy taking him to watch sport events. This is one of the rare moments in which a father and son can bond. There is nothing better in the world than spending your time with a child that you created or a child that needs love and guidance.......Try being a dad its a great job......

Ice Ice Baby

I love winter. For as long as I can remember, I have taken what I call memory snap shots. Memory snapshots are moments that freeze in your mind. I snapped this photo in the backyard of the office. Every morning after I turned on the lights in the office, I would look out into the yard and see how big the roof icecycle grew over night. I love looking at ice, there is something strange about the way ice forms. Ice can take on a life of its own and like weeds, can grow out of control if you allow it. A simple photograph, like ice that takes on a life of its own.

Chris L Party

This was the greek party that I went to in Boxford......

Jake and Johnnie

Jake and Johnnie Pesky at Fenway Park

The Delivery Truck

Loading the magazines

Im Drunk

Im drunk after Gypsy Bar...Hey who did my hair?

Catching Hemingway

In life, there are things that you put on your must do list. For me, one of my must do thing was to go to Sloppy Joes in Key West Florida. I have wanted to go to this place since I was 19 years old. You see, when I was stationed at Ft Bragg, N.C., guys that went to Special Forces scuba school always came back to Bragg with a Sloppy Joes T-Shirt. I envied the guys, not because they went to scuba school. of course that was part of it, I envied them because they got to experience a place where Ernies Hemingway use to drink. I later learned, while I was in Key West that the original Sloppy Joes was really located around the cornor in a place now named Cpt. Tonys, but that's a whole different story. I really liked Hemingway. I didn't like the guy because he was required reading in high school. I like him because as I grew I always learned a little more about him. I saw a few documentaries about his life. I flipped thru a few books. I even heard about Hemingway while I was in the service. Hemingway, like myself was an Army Medic. He was a medic in world war 1. Hemingway married like four woman, landed at Omaha beach as a reporter in WW2 and lets be honest, he lead on hell of an interesting life. Hemingway had balls. He was a mans man. The guy did what he wanted to do and noone stopped him. Ok, He wasn't known for his parenting skills. Rumor has it, he wasn't a good Dad. My dad just passed away and I thought about being a father and how important it is and isn't to different men. My dad was a good father. I miss him. I wonder if Hemingways sons missed him after he died? Who knows! Maybe he should have worked on that while he was alive. I went on the house tour. The guy who gave the tour was this guy from Revere Mass, named Bob. He new a lot about Hemingway. I saw his bedroom. I saw his writting room. I even saw his salt water swimming pool, the first one in Key West at the time. I loved his house. It was a lot smaller than I thought, only three bedrooms upstairs. I was just happy to be there. You get to walk the same floors, and travel the same steps as this interesting man. The guy loved cats. As a matter of fact, his cats still live at the house. My favorite was Charlie Chaplin. I walked from the entrance of his house, after the tour, and straight to sloppy Joes for a drink. I imagine I must have looked at all the same stuff he did on occasions. It was one of those walks where the sights talk to you. Once over a Sloppy Joes I sat down had a drink and checked off the Hemingway/Sloppy Joes thing off my list. I made it to key west and seen what I had to see. Times like this I thought as I sat in the bar, makes you happy to be alive......You have to go there some day. I was a great trip.
p.s. you have to buy a tee shirt while your here. Also go to the website. You can see live footage of whats going on there... Its a great website....oh, I also bought a coffee mug. Every time I see my mug, I think of how I felt the life of Hemingway..

It's Just Boston

I love Boston. Of all the cities to be born in, im glad for me it was Boston. If your not from here youll probably not like it. The bars close early. The streets are narrow. People here have really bad attitudes, and forget about how they drive. There's always traffic jams and the street sweepers miss alot of streets. All and all, Boston is a great city, because its my city. Anywhere I go I enjoy to some extent, but it always feels good to land at good old Logan Airport. I love this picture, I found it on the internet. Im not stealing the picture, im just borrowing it.......I love the Custom house. Thats the skinny building in the middle of this picture. The small long one in front of it is the long Warf Marroitt. Its a hotel. Its always a thrill for me to see this scene because i have seen this many nights in my boat. I love to cruise over and look at all the lights. Of all the places to live, I love Beantown the best........

A Lesson From A Frog

One important thing i have taught Jake was to value all life. Jake found this frog swimming next to where we were fishing. He picked it up, played with it for a while, then he let it go. I watched him put the frog back in the water. He did it with care so he wouldnt hurt the little creature. Life is a balance of respect. No matter how strong or weak the next person or creature is, if we all respect each other. We can all live in peace

Hot Tub Heaven

This is my hot tub area. This is where i usually hide from the rest of the world. I love to go out here at night time and look up at the stars. The water is always at 104 degrees. Its absolutly incredible when it snows out. The steam rising of the water, its a beautiful site.

Special Forces

Here I am getting ready for a parachute jump at Turner Drop Zone Ft Devens, Massachusetts. This picture was taken in 2005. I have been in Special Forces(Green Beret) for over 20 years. I still go back and train every few years. I have been in and out of this unit, the 20th Special Forces for a few years. When I get out of S.F. I really start to miss it, so I have to go back every few years. Being in Special Forces has always been a big part of who I am as a person. I am a Special Forces Medic, 18Delta. The Jumpmaster at my feet is SGM Dave Biron. Dave and I have been friends for more than 20 years. I really admire Dave. He has fought from Vietnam to our present war, The global war on terrorism. The first time that I jumped Turner Dropzone was over 20years ago. The drop zone hasn't changed much. I am probably going to start training again. I miss being in Special Forces. Its part of who I am as a man. I have been inspired by one of my friends who lost his life a little over a year ago in the middle East. His name was sgt Chris Piper. He was killed when an IED exploded near his hummer while on patrol. I think of him often. I think of his young son Christopher growing up in Marblehead, Ma without a dad. My heart breaks and I have shed more than a few quiet tears for young Christopher. I was Chris s Army Recruiter. I enlisted him into Special Forces. At the time Chris was almost 40years old and he wanted to go thru Special Forces school. I thought he was nuts. I was an SF baby and went thru the school at 19 and it kicked my ass. Anyone who knew Chris knew he was a stud. He smoked the training and came home a new Geen Beret. Even though a green beret is our head gear, im using the term that the rest of the army calls Special Forces soldiers. Most civilians confuse the word Special Forces. I knew he would pass the training .He called me after his first SF deployment with 20th group and asked me how he could go active duty. He said that SF was where he should have been his whole life. Chris told me that he wanted to go to Central America. I recommended 7th group. I have done time in both 5th and 7th group. My favorie was 5th group. Its my home. Chris was excellent at speaking Spanish. He learned after he left the Marines and was working as a carpenter in California. Chris was a great carpenter. He really wanted to go back onto active duty with S.F.. He didn't want to stay in Massachusetts. Like most warriors, he missed the military. After a few insisting telephone calls, I told him how to do it. A few months later, Chris was in 7th group. He loved being a Special Forces soldier. so I know, if he had to die in war, he died the way he wanted to....Fighting for this great country......I miss you buddy, the world was a better place with men like you in it....ps thanks for doing all that carpentry work aroung my house in Winthrop, Ma. I always walk in the back kitchen area of my house and think of you. I can see a flash of your big smile in the sun beeming thru the window that you put in. I look at the perfect job you did on framing out the trim around the window. In fact it was like your life simple and staight. Theres a right way and a wrong way, you always took your time and did it right... I am both happy and sad...I miss you buddy, it was my honor to know you.....De Oppresso liber . You have inspired my life Thank you, your friend always..... Bobby aka Ssgt Scalli 20thSpecial Forces Group airborne

Learn from the best

My son Jake with Johnny Damon. My son loves baseball so i had Johnny Damon give him some private batting lessons. We went to Fenway Park and Jake spent an hour with Johnny learning how to hit. Jake told me that he would never forget this day at Fenway! Its worth it.

Elf on the loose

This is my friend and UPS man Joe Stella. Now lets be honest here, doesnt he look like one of the Keebler Elfs?....Ya he does!!!!!!!

I love Boston

I love the smell of Fanuil Hall. I can smell the history. My Great great grandfather had a Saloon in Fanuil Hall. I love to go there at least once a week and have lunch. I always take my out of town friends here to have lunch.

Bowl To Bowling

Remember the fun that we all had bowling. It may not have been wild and crazy, but it was good clean fun. The Townline had the best bowling. As a young boy I us eto go to the Townline with my Dad. My Dad liked to Bowl. I had a lot of good times in this bowling alley. I never liked to bowl, but I got better with time.

Viva Vagas

Here I am just Relaxing in fab las Vegas...viva Vegas baby>>>>>>>

My Home

This is my house. I live in a small town, maybe you would call it an Island in the middle of Boston Harbor. The name of the town is Winthrop. look it up on Goggle, you will be amazed at its location. Winthrop is an Island with only two ways of getting in or out. This house was built in 1860s by a very well know doctor with more than 6 kids. The house is really big. There are 23 rooms inside this great old house. I have completly remodled this home. I love it here......I have 10 bedrooms and over 7000 square feet of living space. I also own the house next door. I use the other house as my office...

Think About Sandy

This is sandy. Her full name is Sandra Peterson. Sandy, that's what her friends call her died. Yes it was very unexpected. She and her boyfriend went out to Las Vegas, came home and started to relax from their week long trip. Unexpectedly, Sandy become ill. The Doctors said it was an infection of some sort, maybe Pneumonia,(bad spelling). Sandy died. The worst part about life is that were all human, and we die. It was so sad at her funeral. Anytime some dies before their time to live people take it real hard. Its like looking in a mirror when you see someone so young die before their parents. There were a lot of people at her funeral. Everyone felt bad. Life was cut shot for this woman. It makes you think, what if! What if you or I died without warning? We think life would be interrupted for or friends and family. The reality is, life goes on. Life goes on for the people that we leave behind. We would like to think that were special and in some crazy way we would upset the balance of nature, but we don't. We really don't matter. The best thing for all of us to do is, remember Sandy, keep her in our memory and go on with life. I read a poem on time and it said something about " Every mans death diminishes me". I always think about that poem when someone tells me that someone that I know has died. It seems to be the first thing that I say. Sandy we all miss you and I know that your life has enriched my life. I am glad that I have known you. Maybe I didn't know you that well, but I died know you and I was touched by your kindness. People like you belong in heaven. Sandy was a diabetic and that had a cause to do with her death.

A Moment On The River

Life seems to be a series of moment snap shots. Pictures that just seem to happen. I love this picture because my son jake stands out in this shot. Jake is the on in the middle. For a moment, Jake is winning. Like life you get on top for a moment and then bang your raft sinks. This was taken at the father / son weekend in New hampshire. This actual shot was taken on the Sacco River. Everyone was playing and enjoying themselves and I was simply standing back and watching. I went into the river after I took this picture. I wanted to spend some time with my son. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shinning and everyone was laughting. This is a momement that I will remember foreever. We swam to the other side of the river and sat on the bank for a few moments. As we swam back, the tide took us down stream. We fought to get back. Jake and I swam side by side. This is what life is about.

Jake saves the day

This is not a very flattering picture of me and Jake sleeping in the back of the van during the father son weekend in New Hampshire. It was raining and jake and I decided to sleep in the back of the van not the tent. This was a good call considering the tent got soaked from all the rain. Jake loved it...........

My promise to micheal

My promise to cousin micheal was simple. I promised my 25 year old cousin, a few months before he died, that i would make sure that his mother, my cousin Judy, would get a rose every mothers day for the rest of her life. Each mothers day since 1999 me and my son Jake have bought over to Judys house a red rose from cousin micheal. I love doing it for cousin micheal except I cry like a baby every year. I miss cousin Mike Scalli, he was a good kid. My cousin Mike died from Scorladerma. Im not sure how to spell it and I really dont want to learn. Its a bad disease and It took a good kid from a mother who had only one child. I keep a picture of micheal in my livingroom. I cant believe hes been gone for seven years...........I miss you micheal

Being a Dad

These are my children, Jacquelyn and Jake. This is my favorite picture because I love to see my children be kids. Anyone can father a child but not many men can be a Dad. I love being my children's Dad, its the best. The hardest part of being a Dad for me is trying to connect to my children's thoughts. I try to teach them so much about the world, sometimes to quickly, I sometimes feel like Im growing them up to soon. I want them to enjoy there childhood so I try to act like a kid with them. When it snows I love to go out in the yard and watch them play. I get to relive my childhood while I sit on a cold mound of snow and watch my angles play...... Being a father is the best job in the world..

Why a big boat?

This is my boat. Ive had her for four years. Her name is Jacquelyns Way. i named her after my gift from God...my daughter. I bought this boat for a really good for nothing reason. Dont get me wrong, im not complaining or any thing, I just bought the wrong boat for all the right reasons. Let me explain. You see, I grew up on a hill. Not just any hill, but historic bunker hill in Charlestown , Massachusetts. Remember your history? That was where the battle of Bunkerhill was fought between the red coats and the patriots. Well on with my story. As a small boy, I would look down into the channel of water at the end of my street, Sackville Street and see all the boats heading out into the Boston Harbor and dream. I would dream of the time when I could buy a boat and drive it under the Tobin bridge and into the Boston Harbor. Well, after years of hard work, I was able to buy myself a boat, and I was able to pay for the whole thing up front. To me that was a huge accomplishment. So, what did I do? Like any fool with a few pieces of Gold i went out and found this fifty foot Searay and by god I got her. I loved it! At first I would just go to the Marina and clean her. Then I had a Captain drive me around. I liked that because I could drink and laught with my friends and not worry about getting pulled over by the Coast Guard. That went on for a few years. I took the helm a few times and drove under the Tobin Bridge, then gave the controls back to my hired Captain. I was having fun! One day my son and my brother asked me to take them out for some Sea Bass fishing. I tried to get a Captain but I couldnt find Dave or Jimmy anywhere. The day was ruined. I realized as I layed in bed that very night that I had made a great mistake in my life. I had bought a boat that I was not able to drive. What an idiot! I loved going out but I couldnt drive it. Everyone tells me to get a smaller boat, you know the boat only you can handle. But, I dont want another boat. I want this boat! You know next year Im going to learn how to drive it. There are so many electronic do hickys, I dont know where to begin. Well if you ever see me out in Boston Harbor, stay clear because to tell you the truth Im a really bad boat person, but Im sure Ill learn. Next time I buy myself a boat, Im going to do my homework and get something that I can handle.....unless of course I can find another Captain before next years boating season......Ill never learn

Angels in White

This is the girl, my daughter Jacquelyn. Shes large and incharge for such a small package. I never believed in reincarnation till god gave me this old soul to help her grow physically, definitly not spiritually. She is my grandmother in the flesh even though Nana died some 20 years ago. This little girl is so independent even i go to her for advice. She stopped sleeping in a crib at age 3. She wanted a double bed instaead. Its sad but i really never looked at her as a baby, she was always grown-up. I love taking pictures of her for a few reasons. First, she's photogenic. Her features are flawless and her smile would make one of the queens guars smile. Second, shes a ham and a good one at that. Without being told shell strike a pose and expect the camera on her. She, like so many of our daughters is our future. I look at this little woman to be and think about my future with her. Will i be the Dad she tells her children about? I know that when she gets older, shell be my queen. Shell take care of me when I get old. If Im having a bad day and start to raise my voice for what ever reason, Ill hear her pipe-up and say" Daddy, sit back and relax, it can only get better and you dont want to get yourself upset. It's to nice a day". Her little voice along with those insitefull comments have a way of bringing me right back to reality. She is my little guardian angle! The kind of angle that god gives a special person. I believe this because why would God trust a perfect little soul to a bad person. I must have done something great to have gotten someone as special as my daughter. Her mane is Jacquelyn-beau, beau being french for beautiful. We always say beauty is your middle name. My daughter is sweet and insiteful at the same time. Goodluck to the man who marries her..........I love her so much

YOU CANT GO BACK

This is where I grew up. Its a small section of Boston known as Charlestown, Massachusetts. Its a small section of Boston know for really two things. First, this is where the legendary Battle Of Bunkerhill took place. You know the revolutionary battle between the Americans and British. Secondly, this is the section of Boston know for the code of silence. An Irish community know to many outsiders as a tough, blue collar, beer drinking fighting, bank robbing capital of the world place. To the people who live here, that's semi -true ,but its a safe community that takes care of it own, and most, not all, of the people who get hurt, deceive it.....I grew up across from Dorothy playground in that whitish triple Decker in the picture on the left. When I lived there, the house was a pinkish color, not the whitish color that's in this picture now. I took this picture for some odd reason just a few months before my Dad died last year. I was driving past the park, where I use to live. For some reason that I can't explain, I wanted to pull over my car and take a few pics, so I did! I was out all day taking pictures for my magazine. The top floor of that triple Decker was my family's apartment. For that matter, it was my families compound. My Cousins, the Melansons lived on the first floor. My uncle Bernie , the Evers, lived on the second floor. My uncle Bernie and aunt Judy owned the house. My family lived on the top floor. We thought we were rich, because we lived in a triple Decker penthouse...Like some scary ritual, My Dad use to stick his head out the middle window and yell my name for me to come home and eat almost every night for my entire childhood. He did this while i was playing with my cousins and friends. My father wasnt a shy man. He didn't care who I was with, or what I was doing at that time. He would just open the window and yell Bobby in a loud bellowing voice. When ever he wanted me to come home I always heard my dad call.... That was with out a doubt my signal to drop what ever it was that I was doing and come straight home. I could be swimming in the pool. I could be playing basketball. I could even be sleding down the roundies, thats a place we sledded behind the park. I could have been anywhere in that park and I heard my dads voice. I miss him calling me. I would always stop and dart home. Home to my family, was our third floor penthouse apartment. It was a nice apartment, all the kids shared a bedroom, but it wasn't anything to brag about. It was just a nice apartment. My mom and Dad wereyoung and just trying to make it and raise a family. Im sure they had no money, but I didnt know that at the time. I thought they had lots of disposable cash. I was always asking my dad and mom for money. It was my grandmother who lived next door that always gave me money, and that was always for going to the store for her. Dad had a low paying job. He never finished high school. My dad drove a wonderbread delivery truck and my mom worked in the candy factory(Shraffts) down the street. Like most young couples, they were trying to raise their three kids, pay the rent and save up to buy a home. Everyone wants the American dream. I think back to my childhood. I really miss hearing my fathers yell for me to come home. At the time, I was probably 8 or 9 years old. I was so embarrassed at my Dad yelling for me from that window. Today, As I look back , I would give up almost anything to hear his loud obnoxious voice again, but I won't. My Dad died a few months ago. And the reality is Ill never hear his voice again.... I get some kind of warmth looking at this cold winter picture and flashing a few memories thru my brain. I remember all the great times that I spent in this park. Times that I spent with Uncle Red who was later killed in Vietnam in 1970. My uncle Red, whos real name was Francis Powers, taught me how to dive from the 16 foot diving board when I was only 7 years old. I still cant believe I did that at such a young age. I can also see my Uncle Richy playing basketball in the park. He died 2 years ago of prostate cancer. He was a firefighter. My dad also became a firefighter later on after we moved away fron the park. Uncle Richard was an incredibly happy person. Richy always had a smile on his face. The sad thing was that after his older brother was killed in Vietnam, Richy was never really that happy again. People would call him the life of the party but people close to him knew he was never the same after Reds death....My Uncle david never really went over to the park. He would come home from work and walk right into 12 St Martin street and put on the T.V.. This is the park where I kissed my first girl, a girl named Joanne Sindoris. She and her cousins could play street hockey better than me and all my friends put together. This is the park where I drank my first beer. This is the place that my Uncle Bernie would take me for all the talks he gave me on how to behave like a good man as I got older. This is the park that I played guns in that would later teach me some common scents hunting skills I would later use when I became a Special Forces(Green Beret) soldier. In short this is the small patch of ground that taught me almost everything that I had to learn about life at the time. This park was more than a playground for me. I still go to the park occasionally. It painful to pass by there since my dad died. I still look up at that third floor window and somehow expect my dad to be there, but hes not there. I have dreams at night since my dad died, that my dad is calling me to come home from the third floor window, but I cant seem to get there. I always wake up and feel lonely and afraid..... I know that my father is gone, some say in a better place, but i still think that by a miracle I may see his ghost up there in that window one day. If I do, I want to see him as that young good looking man I knew in my youth, not the old sick me he grew into as I grew up. I hope god lets me see him there one more time. You see, I had no problems, when he was there. I had a simple life back then, except like most kids, I didnt know it! I wish that I appreaciated him back then more. My Dad could solve all my problems just by calling me to come home from the park. His strong voice was very comforting to me, not then, but as I got matured in life......No one could hurt me back then. My Dad was my rock. My dad was like that big rock in the middle of the pond. The rock that you could jump off and if you got tired you could swim back to and regain your strength. You always expect that rock to be there. But now, my rock is gone. My Rock has been taken out of my pond of life. I never knew how much i missed it or how bad I would need it as I got older...I need my father now more than ever. I need advise dad. We never got aroung to really talking. The things that I learned form you were the things that I watched you do. To me, as a child, My dad could do anything...The sad thing is we all grow up. One day my dad turned old and I stepped up to the proverbial plate. Thats where I stand now. My grandfather is gone. My father is gone. And now, its my turn to be the man. I hope that I do a good job. Im trying for you dad. You did your job Dad.........You know the worst part about life for me is...The part where you can never go back and re-live your childhood....... Its the part that I will never hear my dad call me to come home.....I miss him

Another day here...

Its one of those days. Its the type of day that you just want to stay in bed and listen to the alarm. I came in to work today to find two disturbing things. First, Magada, the new processing woman quit. Yup, thats right, without warning she felt that she couldnt do the simple yet meaningless task given to her. Second, Denise the receptionist never made it in either. She has been having car troubles and yes she also failed to call and even say, " Hey i might be a little late. Well thats life. Im punching these key boards instead of banging my head off a wall. People just like to take advantage of me because im nice......Well world no more mr nice assholeeeeeeee.

My son

This is my son, Jake. Hes a wonderful boy that has added more sunshine in my life than anything else

Just thinking out loud

someone once told me that writing was theraputic. As I get older, not to say that im old, but i tend to believe the who consept now. I like words to flow and random thoughts to take over my writting. My 11 year old son just came into my office and inturupted my writting , but thats ok..... Im having a pretty shitty day today so any interuption is bettter than none.