Why I Write

As long as I can remember I have turned to music but really to lyrics as a form of therapy. There's something remarkably comforting to finding that song that epitomizes what I'm going through and puts my feelings into words. But it's more than that.
The source of the comfort comes from the assurance that someone else has gone through what I'm going through and has felt the same way. Someone understands. I'm not alone.
Lyrics, and thus words, build an intense connection between two people who have never met. Those people relate on a deep, emotional level. They sympathize with each other, understand each other, and draw parallels between each other's lives. Here is where my two biggest interests blend into one: music and words connect all people. They remind us we are a community who has things in common. They remind us we have support. They remind us it is not impossible to overcome our feelings. Someone has done it before. I always preferred sad lyrics and many people have judged me for that. It's not because I'm emo or I have a sad life or have some morbid fascination with the truly tragic. Sad lyrics are simply more powerful. Sure, it's great to know when people are happy, but people need the music and the words more when they're not. When I'm upset I want to hear words that understand, relate, sympathize, offer insight, remind me I'm not alone.
Words can connect and help strangers. They've taught me about myself as they've taught me about people in general and the world. The way we understand that world and people (be it ourselves or someone else) is by connecting our experiences to the rest of the world, to the bigger picture. We must find ways to link our lives/experiences to everyone else's. I write not only because I've learned, been touched by, and been inspired by writing, but also because I have an idealistic hope that someone else can draw from and find comfort in my experiences and my words. Because I know I am not one person alone, but one person in a community and world of people like me.

A True Fan

Bobby Orr flying through the air after scoring the game winning goal. (Once again the image is misplaced...oh well).

“The 1970–71 [Bruins] season was, in retrospect, the high watermark of the Seventies for Boston.”.

1924: The Boston Bruins are founded, entering the NHL as the first United States-based expansion franchise.
1929: The Bruins won the Stanley Cup for the first time.
1939, 1941: The Bruins won for the second and third times.
1943: The Bruins lose the Stanley Cup to the Detroit Red Wings.
1946: The Bruins lose to Montreal.
1953: They lose to Montreal.
1954: Tom McKenna Jr. is born in Concord, Mass.
1957&1958: The Bruins lose to Montreal some more.
1958-1966: The Bruins don’t make it to the Stanley Cup finals.
1967-1968: The Bruins overall record (Win-Loss-Tie) is 17-43-10. Needless to say they don’t make it to the Stanley Cup that year either.

In the meantime, (1960 onward), Tommy Jr. plays hockey. He also follows the Bruins on the radio and goes to every game he can. Games were not televised, despite that hockey at the time was “ten times more popular than baseball and football now.”

1969-1970:
Tommy Jr. still plays hockey.
Tom Johnson, a former Bruins player and current Bruins assistant general manager, is inducted into the Hockey Hall of Fame.
Tom McKenna Senior gets season tickets to the Bruins games at the Boston Garden from Tom Johnson. Tom and Tom are good friends from Concord. McKenna has four tickets in the first row behind the penalty box for every Bruins game. Tommy Jr. goes with him to every game that season. It’s likely they wouldn’t have had the tickets if The Bruins hadn’t been the worst team in the league for years. As of 1969, they haven’t won a championship in twenty nine years or even made it to a championship series in eleven years.
But, in 1969, Bobby Orr, a new star player, starts turning the Bruins’ performance around, dominating opponents they were formerly no match for.
In 1970, the Montreal Canadians narrowly miss the playoff series. The Bruins beat the New York Rangers and then the Chicago Black Hawks to proceed to the championship game. Alongside them, the St. Louis Blues won against the Minnesota North Stars and the Pittsburgh Penguins. Thus, it is the St Louis Blues who make the Stanley Cup championship game against the Bruins.
1970 is the only year in hockey history that two US teams have played each other in the championship. That isn’t the only thing The Bruins and The Blues have in common at that time though. The Blues are one of the only teams who can understand the anguish of the Bruins’ fans and players, having been swept 4-0 the previous two years in a row in the championship series.
The Bruins won the first game at St. Louis 6-1. The next game at St. Louis the Bruins won 6-2. At home the Bruins won 4-1. It seemed they were going to win the finals with ease, but St. Louis was not ready to give up.

May 10th, 1970: Mother’s Day
The Bruins, coached by Harry Sinden, are playing their fourth Stanley Cup championship game against the St Louis Blues, coached by Scotty Bowman. Game four is for the championship title.
Cue Tom McKenna Senior, a fifteen year old Tommy Junior, his thirteen year old brother John, and his best friend Dave, sitting five feet from manager Tom Johnson, coach Harry Sinden, and the Bruins’ players’ bench. Tommy Junior and John won tickets to this game over their three other brothers because they were able to name all of the state capitals that started with the letter "A." That is how Dad decided who would accompany him to this big game. Where was Mom this Mother’s Day? I don’t know. Home watching her other three children I suppose, perhaps listening on the rad-BUUUZZZZZ.
The final buzzer has rung. Is it a win for the Bruins at last? No. But they still have a chance; the score is tied, 3-3. It’s overtime.
Play in overtime begins rapidly, with Tom Johnson and all of the tried and true Bruins fans are screaming their heads off.
Cue the fans at home listening to Dan Kelly announcing the game:
40 seconds on the clock. Derek Sanderson of the Bruins has the puck. He’s rushing up the ice, closing in on Blues' goalie Glenn Hall. He’s looking to pass to Bobby Orr…OOOOOH Noel Picard of the Blues TRIPS Bobby Orr and he goes down!!! Sanderson to Orr behind the net to Sanderson to…OOOORR! BOBBY OOOORR! scores and the Boston Bruins have won the Stanley Cup!”

The Bruins fans, at long last, have a Stanley Cup championship. For most it is the first in their lifetime. For every person it was the first Bruins championship they had actually seen. Every person in the rink was going WILD. Instantly, fans started rushing the ice. This is significantly harder than rushing a field or a court because: 1. it is hard to get onto the ice (you have to find a wall low enough to jump), and 2. ice is not made to be ran onto. Nevertheless fifty people, mostly made up of kids Tommy Junior’s age, jumped the walls and ran, hands over their heads, screaming onto the ice.
Tommy Junior looked at his dad, without a word. Tom Senior waved his hands toward the ice and told his oldest son, “get out there!” So Tommy jumped over the wall and joined the other fans who were on the ice with the Boston Bruins as they were celebrating their fourth ever championship, and as the Stanley Cup itself was being brought out to the ice.
Tommy’s brother John was next to try to get on the ice, but as he jumped to get over the wall he was pulled backwards by one of the many police officers patrolling the rink at that point. Tommy’s friend Dave didn’t get on the ice either. Only about fifty people did, including Tommy.
Of course, the formalities associated with the Stanley Cup Championship, such as actually giving the team the cup, had to happen. So, every person on the ice was evacuated pretty quickly. But it didn’t matter. For that brief moment in time Tommy Jr. was on the ice with the hockey team that had, fifteen seconds earlier, won the championship.

The 1970 Stanley Cup championship game was a turning point for the entire history of hockey. Games were unavailable on television until that day, but starting in 1970 almost every game could be found on TV.
In 1972 the Bruins, lead by new coach Tom Johnson, attained yet another Stanley Cup championship, this time against the New York Rangers, with Bobby Orr scoring the winning goal once more.
To this day, the picture of Bobby Orr soaring through the air with arms outstretched after scoring the 1970 overtime goal is the most famous photograph in all of hockey, and maybe even in all of athletics. Orr is still considered by many the greatest hockey player of all time.
Unfortunately, the Bruins haven’t won a championship since 1972: their longest losing streak yet. But their true fans do not give up. (Edit: this piece was written only months before they won it!)
That game in 1970 was a turning point for Tommy Jr. Tommy kept playing through high school and played on a club team at his alma mater, the University of Vermont. There he also joined a fraternity made up entirely of hockey players. Since college, he regularly plays street hockey with the same friends he watched the 1970 championship with. When his three children were old enough, he taught them all how to skate. His two daughters were enrolled in figure skating lessons and his only son played hockey – for about two weeks. Regardless, thirty one years after the 1970 game, Tommy Jr. is content to watch the games whenever possible, bringing his kids to see the Bruins (though in much worse seats than he had) as often as he can.
Thirty one years later every game is televised and watched in Tommy’s mom’s house in Concord. The McKennas are true Bruins fans, just waiting for another championship, another piece of history.
Edit: they finally got another one! =)

An Untouchable Union

I've waited a long time to post this because I really wanted the pictures to be in their places, but I am just not technologically savvy enough to figure it out, so oh well!



“I liked Mom. Still do.” –Tom McKenna


Pam Hickey and Tom McKenna’s Facebook profiles
(Had they been in college in the modern world):

Pam Hickey

Activities: eating ice cream, reading, shopping
Music: Dave Matthews Band
Books: Jane Austen, Charles Dickens
Movies: Elf, Pride and Prejudice
TV: House, Mad Men, Arrested Development

Education:
Northeastern University
M.Ed. School Counseling

Westfield State College
Psychology/Education

North Andover High School

Work:
Northeastern University
Grad Assistant, Psych department

Oarweed Restaurant: Waitress
Barnacle Billy’s: Waitress
McDonald’s: Cashier


Tom “Tomma” McKenna

Activities: sports, hockey
Music: Allman Brothers Band, The Band, Bob Dylan, John Prine, BB King, The Who, Commander Cody, Derek Trucks, John Hiatt, and 54 more
Books: Nonfiction
Movies: Good Burger, Dumb and Dumber
TV: Modern Family, Arrested Development, Jeopardy, sports

Education:
University of Vermont
Communications

Concord-Carlisle High School

Work:
Barnes & Noble Bookstore:
Sales Associate

Boston Cab Co.: Taxi Driver
Strawberry’s CDs
Thoreau Country Club: Caddy


Pamela Jean Hickey was perfect.
Pam (second from left in the photo) was the first daughter of Bill and Margaret and the older sister of Caroline Hickey. This particular photo was taken right after Pam graduated college, but before she left to backpack around Europe for a month with her best friend. As the photo suggests, this four-person Irish Catholic family was picture perfect. Every family member was classy, orderly, rule-oriented, religious, respectable, boringly normal, but happy.
They lived on 24 Norman Road in the suburban town of North Andover, Massachusetts. Walking up the sidewalk that guides the children to school every morning, there is a white picket fence. Along the fence a beautiful garden full of lilacs, carnations, roses, daisies, lady slippers, flowers of all colors grown with love and devotion. Walking through the front porch into the Hickey home painted tan one is immediately hit by the smell of potpourri and home cooking. On the shelves are decorative flowers and cute candy boxes, and formal family photos, just like the one on Pam’s fictional Facebook, line the walls.
Bill and Margaret were raised to believe in traditional values such as faith, education, modesty, manners, hard work, and gender roles. Bill Hickey worked a standard nine to five job making calls to customers while sitting in a cubicle from the time he got out of the army until he was eighty three years old. Margaret taught math to high school students, and moved on to working in a hospital gift shop until the shop closed, when, at eighty years old, she tried to find a job in another shop to no avail.
While their kids were growing up Margaret took Pam window shopping in town to look at clothes and dresses while Bill played catch in the yard with Caroline. Both girls were always given the option on whether they wanted to shop or play catch, but neither girl ever changed her routine. Pam was interested in clothes and dolls and pretty things while Caroline was a tomboy. Pam was a Brownie scout with a sash covered in badges for different projects. Caroline’s idea of a project consisted of giving all of her sister’s Barbie dolls “haircuts,” leaving every single one of their heads bald. Pam worked three jobs during the summer, one of which was at McDonald’s, and one during the school year. Caroline worked one day at McDonald’s and then quit. Pam got straight A’s. Caroline was a C student.
Despite their vast differences the two girls did have much in common: their dark blue eyes, fair skin, and dark brown hair for instance. They were both dragged to church all day every Sunday. They both got picked on by bullies on their walk to school, although this occurred significantly more frequently to Pam, who, being a quiet, small, girl, had a target on her back to begin with. One afternoon when they were coming home the boys next door sat in their lawn pelting rocks at Pam and Caroline’s heads. Caroline ran away, and the rocks weren’t really aimed at her anyway since she was tough enough that boys didn’t bother her much. Pam, who was girly and quiet and thus an easy target for bullies, got home bleeding that night.
Luckily Pam and Caroline had a welcoming home. Every night when the family returned home Margaret had dinner ready for them: pasta three times a week, pancakes on Fridays, and some variation of flavorless steamed vegetables, meat, and potatoes every other night.
Despite their run-ins with bullies, both Pam and Caroline spent a lot of time around boys, not dating of course because that wouldn’t be allowed, but Pam had her first “boyfriend” (a family friend she saw on supervised occasions) at age eleven. She had a number of boyfriends after that, and even got asked to the prom while she was student teaching, but she was too busy with her education and her jobs to get into anything too serious.
Caroline was lucky to get into the University of Massachusetts at Amherst and was also lucky that this school happened to be inexpensive. She got a job at Wang enterprises instantly upon graduating, paid her parents back in full for her college expenses, and retired at age forty two to live in her home in Sudbury, Mass. She is surrounded by her husband, to whom she has been married twice, her one child, whose college tuition money has been in the bank since he was five, and her BMW with leather interior, the only model of car she’s ever bought.
Pam could have gone to any school she wanted if she could have afforded it. She couldn’t afford it, and went to state school because it was cheaper. After college when she was working at and attending Northeastern, she met Dave McKenna, who was also getting his masters. We’ll pick up there later.

Thomas Aquinas McKenna Junior was not perfect.
Tom (the hippie in the flannel listening to music in the photograph) was the son of Tom Senior and Florence and the older brother of Paul, Dave, John, and Bill McKenna. Their seven-person Irish Catholic family made up of tall, dark-haired, thin, fair-skinned, hazel-eyed boys rarely took family photographs. To organize five boys and to fight with each of them to take off their hats and flannel shirts and put on dress clothes was not worth it. Each boy looked equally as goofy as Tom did in the photograph on page one, and Tom himself looked even goofier standing up at six foot three and one hundred sixty pounds. In that photo, taken shortly after Tom graduated college, he was on his way to Ireland. He and a friend intended to visit for one week and ended up staying a month because families would continuously be taking them in, and twenty-something year old boys are not good at planning anyway.
When they weren’t world travelers, Tom and all of his brothers were expected to uphold their faithful background. They went to church every Sunday and were expected to attend CCD (like Sunday school) classes on a weekly basis. Tom, however, was never one to follow rules. He skipped his classes every week to listen to The Who, The Doors, The Cars, The Rolling Stones, The Band, and any other “the” group you could think of in his friend’s basement. Of course his mother did eventually find out when she got a letter home reading:
“Your son, ___Tom McKenna___, has missed the last _17_ Sunday school classes.”
You might think if Tom had strong religious role models he would have been more likely to attend Catholicism classes. As it turns out Tom’s aunt was a nun, but she wasn’t your stereotypical religious figure. When Tom’s grandfather passed away, the wake was treated like “a party with one less member” according to the family, who, in the Irish way, treat every gathering like a party. Tom’s nun aunt had to get special permission to leave the nunnery in order to attend the wake. So, with no drivers’ license and no money, she drove herself to Concord from thirty minutes away. She hit a bit of a problem when she came upon a toll and could not pay it, but they let her go. Upon arriving at the wake, Tom Senior bribed Auntie Nun with fifty dollars if she slid down the banister in the middle of the funeral home in front of everyone. Though money has no value to someone living in a nunnery, Auntie Nun took the bet, and the whole crowd got to witness her screaming “WEEEEEE!” as she glided down the railing.
Though the McKennas were slightly crazy, they lived in a very normal neighborhood at 29 Laurel Street in the suburban town of Concord, Massachusetts. Tom’s family had been rooted in Concord for a long time. His grandfather build the house Tom lived in, situated directly on the sidewalk leading to the nearby Alcott Elementary School. Tom’s grandfather also built the house directly behind Tom’s house, and the two houses shared a backyard. Tom’s grandparents lived behind Tom until Tom’s brother Dave bought the house, and it is Dave who occupies it now. To live right behind the five McKenna boys probably would not have been a popular option for anyone outside of the family since there would always be boys noisily running through their backyard and they would have to deal with shattered windows and broken deck planks from baseballs, footballs, tennis balls, basketballs, lacrosse balls, hockey pucks, sticks, bats, or even the boys themselves wrestling their way off of their own property.
Florence McKenna taught high school Math for a while, but retired when she was in her fifties. Tom Senior passed away at fifty-nine years old after serving in the army and winning a bronze medal for sprinting in the Olympics. His father, Arthur Glendon, had an Olympic history as well. He coached a Gold-medal winning crew team and invented the Glendon stroke, the moving seat on screw boats. The Wonder Crew is a book published about Tom’s grandfather. Not surprisingly, Tom’s home was very sports oriented. There was an innumerable amount of broken windows, bones, and teeth. Five boys within six years of age wreaked havoc on their small-town home life.
With four very masculine brothers and a lot of male cousins, many of whom went on to work in construction and one of whom went on to play for the Bruins, all women were aliens to Tom. He “never spoke to a girl” before college and claims never to have had a girlfriend before age thirty. He only knew women of his mother or grandmother’s generation.
Tom’s grandmother had a driver in one of the first models of cars ever made. His family owned the first colored television set in his neighborhood, as well as the first remote control. When they first bought the remote they decided to play a trick on Tom Senior. When he came home from work one of the boys hid within range of the TV while another boy told his father, “Hey look Dad, I can do magic! Every time I pound my fist on the coffee table the TV switches channels!” He then proceeded to punch the table, while his brother, waiting eagerly for his cue, hit the “channel up” button on the remote. And just like that the television channel was magically switched!
Tom had the money to attend college. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the grades. This was no reflection on his intelligence, but he wasn’t very good at doing “what you’re supposed to do.” He went to community college for a year before transferring to the University of Vermont, where he joined a hockey frat and majored in Communications. He wanted to go into sports journalism as sports and nonfiction writing were his passions. He was working at a bookstore when he was invited to go out to dinner by his brother Dave.

If Pam Hickey and Tom McKenna had Facebook during the 1980s, they would have seen that they had one mutual friend, Dave McKenna, Tom’s brother and Pam’s peer at Northeastern.
One evening Dave and a dozen of his friends were going to dinner in Marblehead at a place called Rosalee’s. The night Tom McKenna and Pam Hickey met they were on a blind double date, but not with each other. When Tom walked in Pam was wearing a beret, which was in fashion at the time. Tom, not realizing this, thought she was French or at least foreign upon first glance, which caught his interest, but Tom was not enamored by foreign girls the way most men are. Little is known about Tom’s date, but she wasn’t his type. He was picky, and if he were to date it would have to be a very sweet, normal, quiet, smart, but modest girl.
Pam’s date was Tom’s wildest friend. He was a loose cannon: loud, bombastic, inappropriate, and sarcastic. He drank, cursed, told stories he shouldn’t have, and managed to throw a dinner roll across the table by the end of the evening. Pam had probably never seen anything like this. She was brought up in a structured home where people worked hard, cared about the rules, said all the right things, etc. I think that is why she was drawn into Tom’s crowd of friends. They had a carelessness that was fun, light-hearted, and endearing. They had a childish sense of humor and created chaos wherever they went. But they never viewed themselves as comedians.
Tom was so used to his friends’ behavior, even though he mostly watched all of the idiocy, that he hardly ever laughed at them. So when the girl who got voted quietest in high school roared her hearty, genuine laugh, Tom noticed. He hadn’t ever heard someone laugh at him or his friends like that ever before, and he could not understand why she found them so funny, but he liked it. He said, “I remember thinking, ‘she’s pretty, but I don’t know what’s going on in her head.’”
When they were about to order, the waiter came over and informed the table the restaurant had received a phone tip-off of a bomb scare, so everyone had to evacuate down from the second floor and out the door. The scene became complete chaos. Pam, who had a tendency to worry, was frightened. Tom claims not to remember any of it, but according to Pam, he cut off her, his date, and a number of other people during his push to get out. The “women and children first” chivalrous approach was lost on him. Those kinds of social graces usually are.
Despite his lack of manners, Tom’s date was still expecting him to ask for her number at the end of the evening, more as a courtesy than anything else. This was before the days of online social networking, so a phone number was the only way to reach someone again. In fact, in May 1984, the same month of this large dinner date, Mark Zuckerberg, founder and CEO of Facebook had just been born. Had Facebook been founded at this time there probably would have been no pressure for Tom to get his date’s number since he could just add her on Facebook.
For the record, Tom was not interested and would not have friended his date on Facebook just as he skipped the formality of asking for her number. Tom was, however, interested in Pam. He approached her date and asked if he had gotten Pam’s number. He had. But, had Facebook been around he would not have because he could have just friended her instead, which was much less personal. He had already decided not to call Pam anyway because he lived an hour away from her and did not like her enough to commit to that commute. Perhaps if Facebook or AIM or webcams had been around, Pam and her date would have continued to talk that way and gotten to know each other and then decided to commit to a relationship. But it’s not likely. They were just not a good match.
Tom and Pam would probably not have been friends on Facebook, at least not right away. Tom was much too shy and unaware of social norms to have added Pam. Pam was also too shy and would have been expecting Tom, as the man, to add her. He probably never would have, not out of lack of interest but out of complete oblivion to social rules. After several dates Pam probably would have given in out of frustration and because, in the world of social networking, the rule is if you are dating someone you are at least friends with them on Facebook.
Being connected on Facebook would probably not have changed the dynamic between Tom and Pam. Having been added by Pam probably would have confused Tom who would wonder why she wanted to be connected to him. Tom had strong preset notions from his own parents about the correct way to “talk” to someone. He was old-fashioned. He wore the same clothes for decades, liked more “girly” women, and believed in at least calling a girl to ask her out.
The next time Tom and Pam ran into each other was much the same way people run into each other now, in a group of their friends. They were both at a Red Sox game with the same people they went out to dinner with. While everyone was scrambling to find seats, their friends managed to not-so-accidentally seat Tom and Pam next to one another. This was arranged by Dave’s then girlfriend, Michelle, who Tom seems to think intuited the connection between him and Pam. This may be true, or since Michelle also knew Pam from Northeastern, Pam might have let something slip about her feelings. However it happened, Michelle picked up on the attraction between Pam and Tom, and she did have a good sense for which people “go together.” Tom refers to Michelle as his “guardian angel” when explaining how she fixed him up with Pam.
When you think about it, Tom was the obvious choice for Pam’s match in that group of people since he was the quietest of his friends and brothers. Pam was also a clear choice for Tom considering she was probably the least intimidating girl possible while still being beautiful, intelligent, and sweet. It just happened that Michelle was the first to make these connections.
Pam had never learned anything about baseball, or any sport. When asked if she ever played sports as a child she said, “I used to watch the boys play tetherball after school.” Tom spent the game explaining the rules to Pam at first. She would ask, “Are we out in the field or with the bat?” and he would tell her. She’d think out loud, “Is that a new guy batting now?” and he’d explain that the last guy was already on the base. Once she learned a little more she’d wonder “why is that guy running for the ball if it’s out of bounds?” and he’d say that a foul ball is still an out if it’s caught. After an inning or so of Pam’s utter confusion and relentless questions, Tom would give up and start to ask his own questions. Has she ever seen a baseball game before? Does she have any brothers? What does she do for fun then if not sports? There were sure to be pauses in conversation between two shyer people one of whom had no idea about baseball and one of whom had no idea about dating, but for these moments they could keep track of, or in Pam’s case stare into space at, the game going on in front of them, which the Sox won.

After the Red Sox game Tom and Pam started having regular lunch dates at Northeastern. They met each other’s families, where they were both incredibly well-received. Tom’s mother loved having a girl in the house, and Tom’s father was just shocked a pretty, smart, nice girl could go for a goofy guy like his son. They were, as Tom was, refreshed by her normalcy. Tom Senior even told his son he would be an idiot to mess it up.
Pam’s curiosity about Tom could finally be quenched through his parents. She asked his mother if Tom was mischievous like his brothers. His mother paused for a long time and said, “Tommy was sneaky about it.” Pam heard stories like when Tom spent his Boy Scout money on penny candy every week but was inevitably caught when the pack leader called his mother.
Despite Tom’s mischievous past, Pam’s parents took to him right away. Once past their stricter demeanor, Pam’s parents were sweet, light-hearted people who could appreciate a sense of humor as well as anyone else could, even if their own senses of humor were a bit hidden under formalities. Tom put Pam and her family at ease. But what truly won over Pam’s parents was when Tom visited their home and discovered that, just like his own mother, Pam’s parents watched Jeopardy every night. However he was perplexed to find they never knew the answers. Tom himself had a knack for remembering facts with his interests in history, sports, music, and the fact that he was well-read in nonfiction books. But when Tom could actually answer any, or most, of the hints, Pam’s parents were immediately impressed. Pam was impressed as well, though she had already been overwhelmed by Tom’s sports knowledge and had no doubt he was smart.

Four years after their meeting at Rosalee’s, Thomas Aquinas and Pamela Jean became Tom and Pam McKenna. Tom proposed in another Massachusetts restaurant that was located upstairs from the ground floor, the Spinnaker. The Spinnaker
was at the top floor of the Hyatt Regency in Cambridge overlooking the Charles River. The building itself looks like a set of stairs, a sequence of steps to take before you can reach that pivotal top moment. Tom and Pam had taken all of those steps. They had been dating for several years, they knew each other’s families, they built a strong relationship of love, and finally, they were seated at the top.
Their attraction to one another may have been heightened from the start but emotions never ran as high as they did while sitting down to that dinner. The Spinnaker was a revolving restaurant with a view of the beautiful skyline outside constantly changing while the diners sit still. As they eat, the world moves around them, taking them on a ride they cannot stop and do not want to get off of. The Spinnaker restaurant literally looks like it is floating on water, which is exactly how Tom and Pam felt that night.
Their journey, like the pace of the spinning floor, started off slowly, much to Pam’s dismay. Tom was not the fancy dining, suit-wearing kind of guy, so going to a dinner like this after dating for years Pam knew he was going to propose, and she eagerly waited. “It must have spun around one hundred times before he asked me,” she says. She’s probably right. Unlike her, Tom was never the type to do things the way you’re supposed to do them.
Tom was thirty four and Pam was twenty nine, and at that age, especially then, four years was a long time to date before becoming married. That’s why it is doubtful that their courtship would have been made shorter in today’s world where everything is instantaneous. It’s true they may have had more contact with email, instant messaging, video chats, Facebook, text messaging, but these material things cannot change a love that is supposed to be. They cannot change the shy personalities of two people who complement each other. Tom and Pam teach each other new things through their differences. He makes her laugh and lightens her up while she brings him down to earth and keeps him acting responsibly.

On their wedding day Tom was a full foot (and half an inch) taller than his new wife, but as she stood on her toes in her heels, he bent over to reach her in compromise. While he looked a little bit goofy with his unnatural smile and bright red full beard, she looked beautiful and happy and natural.

While they say two people become more alike when they get married, Tom and Pam never became the same person. They may be joined forever as of the day in this photograph where they are literally conjoined in a hug, but they will always be able to separate themselves as individuals.
They have embraced their differences, and even added some new ones. He is now politically conservative, though still wearing
flannel and listening to rock music, while she campaigns for Democrats like Deval Patrick. He blasts Bob Dylan in the kitchen while she blocks her ears and runs. She watches sappy love stories when he’d rather be watching ESPN. None of these differences matter, though. Tom and Pam have strong shared values of love, respect, trust, family, and most importantly they both believe in independence.

Tom and Pam McKenna are not “The McKennas” but Tom and Pam. They are their own people, and they have their own relationship, untouched by time or social norms. They have been married for twenty two years.

Intro Part 2

I thought I'd start with the shortest and least formal piece I plan on posting, which happens to be about my name, so it will serve as a nice introduction:

I Couldn't Think of Any Other Name:

I was not named after the actress Siobhan McKenna. My parents had to look up how “Siobhan” was spelled: the Gaelic way, or the “right” way as I was always told. They had never heard the name “Siobhan” until my father’s co-worker and friend mentioned it to him, though “Siobhan” sounds quite similar to the name, “Sean,” which my parents would have chosen for me if I were a boy.
“Siobhan” is Gaelic for “Joan” in English. It means “grace” or “grace of God,” which doesn’t quite suit me…
When I was born, they were still wrestling between “Siobhan” and “Molly,” but I “didn’t look like a Molly.” My father’s favorite story about my name is that when he went into work after I was born and told his boss his first child was named, “Siobhan,” his boss told him, “I couldn’t think of any other name.”
It would have been a little easier, I think, to have another name, one which people could pronounce. A name like my sister’s, “Katie,” (which is her full first name), or my brother’s, “Michael,” certainly would have gotten me less horrendous nicknames and name butchering every first day of school or substitute teacher. Perhaps with a more normal name I wouldn't have to feel like an idiot every time I wear a name tag. Perhaps I wouldn't have to be ready to spell it twelve times every time someone needs to write it down, though I do enjoy those conversations, which tend to go something like:
"You said 'v', right?"
"No, 'b'"
"So it's pronounced Sha-BON"
"No, it's pronounced like a 'v'"
"Like a 'b'?"
When I told my parents no one could pronounce my name, they shrugged and said, “yeah…we thought that might happen.”
My grandmother wanted my name to be Florence like hers, but my parents were kind enough to veto that. They did stick to one tradition from my father’s family in giving me my middle name, “Ann.” For at least four generations, the oldest child on my Dad’s side has had a middle name beginning with “A.” They pass it on to their children. My great-grandfather, Bernard Aloysius, was the oldest, as was my grandfather, Thomas Aquinas, as was my father, also Thomas Aquinas, as am I, Siobhan Ann. Being the first female, I may be the first one not to pass on the “A. McKenna” middle initial and last name. Knowing my family the whole thing was probably started as a joke anyway because they thought “A McKenna” was a funny pun or something.
I think my parents heard my name and fell in love with it. That’s why they didn’t care that it would be hard for people to pronounce, or why they didn’t give my siblings equally hard names. They did not consider those things. What mattered was that they heard this beautiful Irish name and they both liked it.
When I was born was I think when my name really became “mine” in all ways. When my parents chose it over “Molly” because “I didn’t look like a Molly” was when they saw something in me that made “Siobhan,” the most suitable name they could give me. People often ask me if I wish my parents had chosen an easier name, and the answer is absolutely not. I am thrilled my parents chose “Siobhan” to be my name, not only because it’s beautiful, but because it’s different. All parents tell their children they are “different” and “special.” My parents made sure that I was by making the thing that marks my identity, my name, the first thing people see or the first thing I tell them, beautiful and unique.

Intro

In case anyone actually reads:
Essentially this site is more for me than anyone else because I'm irresponsible at backing up my files and already find myself retyping some of what I've written because it's gotten lost. That being said, this is essentially a forum for me to keep a sort of journal or record of what I've written. Right now I just plan on putting up the creative nonfiction pieces I've written for classes here the last year and a half, but we'll see where it goes.