As you can see, the blog is now a perfect place for me. As the giver of gifts I now have a place to share the ones I have been given over time. I even might tell you about them as I rhyme. Because all of the people I have met are connected to me and my dream. And so they helped get Billy D into the castle with his family all safe and sound. I can’t wait to tell you all the people I have met and the role that they played as I lifted off the ground. Because now I am at the top of the castle and have the greatest perspective of all. Gratitude. That’s a gift I hope my kids get. It makes life easier when times get harder and is an important lesson for all teachers and people who know kids. After all, the kids are what’s important and these people all know- that after my faith and my family they are what helped me grow.

I also have to share the legend of gifts from my ancient past. See, I have gifts from everywhere. And these guys from my past- most of Italian descent- have all played a part in Billy D’s ascent. So I have to tell some tales from my North End. While I have eaten at Federal Hill in Providence, and enjoyed the North End of Boston, the place of the North End of Syracuse is where you could find where most of these guys were from. Some wore the gold chains and had the big hair of the place of my current employment, but they all had big hearts. One of them whose Dad we called Fish even had a grandmother and mother who fed us every delicious dish. Tommy played soccer with me, Frank and Frankie were always there and good old Mark had the Match at the Patch where the Strange Brew crew once held the trophy in the air.

Patrick was Irish, but that didn’t matter. Frank was a big dream who made us think summer. I remember playing third when he struck out 46 batters in a high schools game. Like Bruce Springsteen whom I loved we listened to music and had Glory Days. Chas became a lawyer and I am not surprised. He was always talking and sharing his driveway with jumpers and passes and calzone. They married childhood sweethearts and mostly stayed at home, while Billy D pursued his dreams abroad. But they are always there for me, no matter when I call. Interesting to me as a great teacher that many of them are coaches who teach as much as I do in their own ways. I am just glad that although we said goodbye they are there for all of my days. So, thanks guys you know who you are, I am sure we all remember the banana mobile car. The Murada (spelling) was Pat’s but we all had fun in Charlie’s whip. Blasting AC-DC and chasing our dreams and the high school girls and their screams. “Hey Now 4, I know you can hear me now. Look at how good we all turned out!” From Bishop Grimes we had the best of times. Following our paths to future glory and making teachers’ lives a horror story. From Carmen the math teacher, to Don the janitor coach, to Sister Joan and the teachers who moaned- we thank you teachers for creating the best you could from the chicken you were given. Not everything can be turned into salad- but we turned out better than sh#@. So the teachers of my past all deserve a great nod of thanks, even the Italians I knew came up successful through the ranks. Not an angry mob of Sicilians- just a bunch of kids from the North End who all did well and became a good friend…of mine. So, as I enjoy the gifts under my tree- these guys deserve a mention for being connected to me.

Thanks for Coming!