Untitled document

The BaltiMarions

Cook Forest, Pa, 1995

-Maggie overwhelms IND-

Experienced Magic shuts down rival's late rally in 'The Game'

(Sun photo by Monica Lopossay / January 25, 2008)

IND's Shana Brown defends against Maggie Marion, who hit two three-pointers in the first five minutes to fuel a 10-2 start. After the game, Marion said, "I did it for my Uncle Bill who's having a birthday in just three weeks. Besides, I knew if I done good, I'd get some love in the HackFester.."

(Clic the Pic for the full story.)

The Big Game in Baltimore...

In this archival photo, an elegantly attired Mary Ella (left) sprints to the hoop during Mercy's big game vs. IND (Institute of Notre Dame). Tonight, decades later, daughter Maggie Marion will be on the court and her mother coaching on the sidelines for yet another go at it....

Clic the Pic for more on this exciting rivalry.

the following sketchy report will have to suffice until we get "the rest of the story" from participants and family members...

MERCY WINS!

Unfortunately it was the Mother of Mercy Bobcats, of Cinncinnati, not the Mercy High School Magic, of Maryland...

Former NBA/now high school ref Tim Donahy 'missed the call' when Maggie Marion ended up on the short end of an offensive foul. Maggie led the Magic's intense, suffocating defense, patented by none other than Mercy Coach Mary Ella Marion, and received a beefy elbow from #33 for the effort.

October 20, 2007 - RJ, enjoying a little R&R at Stone Harbor, NJ, while mate, Mary Ella, attends the annual vinegar conference at the nearby Vinegar Institute.

You may remember that ME got very involved in vinegar several years ago when she purchased (click, then scroll down to last page:) a gallon jug of the stuff and then had to figure out how to use it up. That's when she began attending seminars at the Institute and now, having completed the coursework required to become a C.V.S. (Certified Vinegar Specialist), she purchases it two gallons at a time at Sam's Club (see above box).

It's rare for anyone to be swimming in the ocean in NJ so close to November, but RJ did it (though his teeth were chattering like jackhammers, his nipples were harder than paving bricks, and his poor stones had shriveled far up into his pelvis).

A last gasp of summer...

At least there's one team we care about with the will to win...

Suspenseful moment: Maggie prepares to catch a miniature, hairless chihuahua that has been catapulted ovet the net as part of the pre-game festivities. Fortunately, like the team itself, she succeeded.

Baltimore, November 2007 - The Mercy High varsity volleyballers, just 6-6 during the regular season, stepped it up in the postseason, upsetting opponent after opponent to make it to the Championship game...

...And, unlike Michigan, THEY won! Here a delirious Maggie and Mom/Coach Marion congratulate one another after the final, decisive match. After that, the rest of the disbelieving team congratulated their shocked coach. Then, the dumbfounded girls congratulated each other. This having run its course, the stunned coach and team accepted congratulations from the opposition, significant others, parents, classmates, groupies, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, school officials, and a homeless man who was lurking about the property pretending to be a volleyball aficionado. Then the building custodian kicked everybody out because he had to sweep the gym floor.

The One-and-Only Maggie with the spoils of victory, just before the janitor threw everybody out. At home, she made a nice tossed salad in the trophy.

Congratulations, Maggie and Coach Marion! And thank you for giving us a winner -We really needed that. I mean really. wom

Smart Lass. Very.

A proud RJ, practicing shutterbuggery from row 4, captures the precise moment that The-One-And-Only Maggie is awarded her secret National Honor Society pin, these days worn UNDER the lapel by young women members lest its telltale glittery reflection scare off any hot guys who themselves are too dense to qualify for this exclusive club. Pinning the honoree is Dr. Vinnie Yakavitch, Treasurer and Chief Recruiter of the Baltimore-Washington MENSA chapter, the natural next step up for these brainy lassies. Congratulations Maggie!

Practice Makes Perfect.

October, 2007 - Our hidden Hackfester Cam recently caught Maggie hard at work on the volleyball court, perfecting her legendarily savage serve. She ascribes to an unorthdox Zen philosophy of visualization and repetition made popular by the late Tammy Faye Bakker Messner. Tammy Faye learned the technique from former husband, disgraced televangelist Jimmy Bakker, who himself learned it from girlfriend Jessica Hahn and then honed it while in prison back in the 90s, where he became a fine volleyball player, despite being just 5'3"and being unable to jump because of excessive whiteness.

Maggie goes through the serving motion hundreds of times each day without the ball. That way, as the theory goes, when she actually gets to to use a ball, she's so excited that her adrenaline carries her to new athletic heights. Bizarre? Yes. But who's going to question a member of the National Honor Society (see above)? WOM

Tammy Faye - she was into visualization, repetition, and mascara, lots and lots of it.

(You be the judge.)

I am happy to report that I have survived the 2007 Baltimore Marathon!
The weather was beautiful and the support from the home town crowd was
amazing.

At the beginning, I was in between pace groups for about six miles in
the beginning really messing up my pace and wasting a lot of much needed
energy. I finally found the 4:15 pace group and hung with them until
mile 20. Right at mile 20, my arches, achilles tendons, calfs, quads,
knees, and lower back all started to cramp. From mile 20 - 26.2, I
walked one mile and ran one mile.

At mile 25, I met up with this 65 year old man who had run 50 marathons
in his life. He had a gash above his eye from earlier in the race when
his legs gave out and he fell to the pavement. The medical staff put
him in an ambulance but he wanted to finished. He hopped out and
continued to run. He told me about his previous injuries, including
popping his aorta open 7 cm at the finish line. He has one lung, a bad
heart and somehow he still runs in these races. He was one of a kind.

I finished in 4 hours and 57 minutes. The time isn't bad but the
expectations for next year are already beginning. All the cramps, bad
knees and a sunburned head is worth it for an under armour shirt and a
medal right? haha!

Matt

P.S. I shaved my head and had a mohawk for the race. I am thinking
about keeping it for a while since my students love the look.

Other runners, wary of Matt's new look, were careful to keep their distance -- though several dubious women, unaccountably attracted to him as, say, Squeaky Fromme was to Charlie Manson, did their best to run in his wake (as above photo clearly shows).

Hey!? You tawkin' to me?

Even tough guy Travis Bickel, who signed up for the race at the last minute, was leery of Matt that day. After knocking over some gimp old fart -- who was bleeding from a cut on his forehead and limping along with EMS personnel in pursuit -- Bickel finished the race in 4:56:58. When Matt, who limped in two seconds later, accidentally bumped into Bickel at the finish line, Bickel put both hands up, backed swiftly off, apologized profusely, and immediately left the area, looking frequently over his shoulder in obvious fear....

_________________________________________________________________

Hey, we KNOW these people!

May 24, 2007, The Wicomico Civic Center, Salisbury University (near Ocean City, MD) - The budding pedagogue and current Birthday Boy, Matthew O. Marion, shown here on graduation day with his pedagogical parents, RJ and Mary Ella, and his possibly-pedagogically-inclined little Sis, the one-and-only Maggie.

Not only did Matt finish up at Salisbury last month and receive his B.S. in Physical Education, but he also survived the intense graduation party circuit, a most impressive accomplishment in its own right.

Father RJ passed along this juicy tidbit about the above photo: 'A little known fact is he was wearing my black pants because he didn't have any.' Now THAT'S inside information!

All the Best on Your Big Day, Matt, and congratulations on all your hard work up at SU, which you remarkably managed to fit in between all those marathon poker games.

EDITORIAL

The teaching profession has just gained a smart, well-prepared, motivated, engaging young man who is guaranteed to be a positive influence on every child who comes under his pedagogical purview. And he can golf. WOM

The Young Maestro at Wet 'N' Wild Acres, Cooksburg, PA, 1995

Cousin John McCluskey; the Birthday Lad himself; JPM, circa 1955

Birthday Boy RJM, wearing big brother Bill's clashing cast offs (AKA hand-me-downs), just a day or two prior to their being passed down even further to an eager and oblivious JP - after whom they would eventually land in the as-yet-born Mick-Mouse Marion's wardrobe.

Here the boys are being mollified with a mixture of raw sugar and flour while an overwhelmed Martha and Aunt Kitty, with Julie's help, of course, scramble to cobble together a proper white cake for the demanding celebrant and his guests.

All the best on your Big Day, Ricardo!

http://thehackf.startlogic.com/

Hackfest 2006,

Monday, February 13, 2006
Compiled 2 AM E.T.

Wind and Snow Strike 14 States; Record Accumulation in N.Y.

Baltimore and Newton hit hardest.

By ROBERT D. McFADDEN with W.O. Marion

Published: February 13, 2006

The biggest winter storm in New York City history — destined for lionization as the Blizzard of '06 — buried the region and much of the Northeast yesterday under blowing, drifting, thigh-high snows that crippled transportation and commerce, knocked out power and disrupted life for millions in 14 states, including New Jersey and Maryland, especially on two particular streets, Montego in Parkville and Fredon-Marksboro in Newton.

(story continues below photos)

Parkville, MD. Richard Marion, 54 (but an old 54), was forced to dig out the family van by himself with his sons away at college, his ultra-healthy 9th-grade daughter, Maggie, frivolously off sledding with friends, and his wife of nearly 25-years sleeping in, yet again. He claims that he "almost had a heart attack or two" but stopped in time and went back in the house for a couple of restorative martinis. "That always helps," he said, before falling face first into a snowbank and inadvertently making a snow angel.

Parkville, MD. Young Maggie Marion preferred to go saucering with neighborhood acquaintances instead of helping her nearly-late father shovel the estimated 20-inches of snow that fell on their walkways and driveway. As a result, he almost suffered a fatal heart attack. Note child in background assisting his father with the cleanup.

Newton, NJ. Plows did their job on historic Fredon-Marksoboro Road (shown above). Local resident Michael J. Marion was just putting the finishing touches on his driveway and was about to go in for several well-earned cups of coffee when a county truck left behind a fresh 8-foot wall of sodden snow across his entrance, just off the street. "You fuckin' fucker! Fuck YOU!" he screamed maniacally to the oblivious plough driver, who couldn't hear him over the din of the big blade scraping along ahead of his massive vehicle. "Fuck!" added Marion, visibily wilting and with his long-suffering wife, Donna -- who has been lobbying for a snowblower for years -- bitterly digging into the newly-deposited load. Meanwhile, back inside the house, the two able-bodied Marion offspring, Steve 18, and sister, Michelle, 14, stretched luxuriously in their respective beds, dreaming cozily of the blueberry pancakes and real maple syrup they would soon be chowing down on -- as soon as their mother got back inside and set to work in the kitchen, that is.

(continued from above) After two months of humbug winter, the region awoke to a milk-white morning and an awesome storm that exceeded all forecasts, with snowfalls that transformed straw-drab landscapes into February postcards and brought out skiers, sledders, and other wonderlanders.

Plows were out in force, too, and working around the clock. But there was so much snow that only major arteries were expected to be open for the start of the workweek today, and officials forecast sluggish commuting for anyone who failed to take mass transit. Schools will be open in New York City, but not in some other areas.

The storm — a great Crab nebula 1,200 miles long and 500 miles wide on satellite images and a ghostly apparition on the ground — crawled up the Eastern Seaboard overnight with winds that gusted up to 60 miles an hour, and cloaked the cities and countrysides from North Carolina to coastal Maine with 12 to more than 27 inches of snow, which broke or challenged records in many locales.

A total of 26.9 inches fell in Central Park, just a few short blocks away from 225 West End Avenue, where Parsons design student Amira Marion resides. "What does it matter anyway?" she said "They give us so much homework, I don't even have time to look out the window, much less actually go outside and enjoy the stuff! I absolutely love New York. I wish I could actually live here!" she bitched while dunking her Balthazar 100% whole wheat croissant into her Dean and DeLuca hot cinnamon spice tea while sewing up another assignment. "Even the homeless have more fun than I do," she lamented while putting the kettle on for another "cuppa," this time dipping into her special-blend organic Pomegranate Perfection Tea, available only at the Sensuous Bean on 70th Street.

The snow is the most since record-keeping began in 1869, the National Weather Service reported. In what weather experts called a remarkable and relentless fall that began late Saturday afternoon and ended late yesterday, it eclipsed the legendary blow of Dec. 26-27, 1947, which dropped 26.4 inches and not only killed 77 people but also froze two feral cats stiff in their tracks. It also easily surpassed the memorable No. 3 and No. 2 storms, of Jan. 6-7, 1996, which left 20.2 inches, and March 12-14, 1888, the notorious Blizzard of '88, which dropped 21 inches, but since not one single human being is still alive from that era, nobody really cares about this particular storm anymore.

Announcing itself at dawn over New York with theatrical claps of thunder and lightning that roused some people from sleep and caused others to simply fart loudly in an unconscious reaction, the storm dropped snow at phenomenal rates of 3 to 5 inches an hour between dawn at 7 a.m. and early afternoon, obliterating the skyline and anything more than a few feet away. During that time, more than 14 inches fell in Central Park and 16 inches at La Guardia Airport, where the snow topped out at 25.4 inches, another record.

"That's about as hard as it can snow in New York City, and it's extremely rare," said Jeff Warner, a meteorologist with Pennsylvania State University, stating the obvious and wondering why HE had been consulted to do so when there are at least a dozen top meteorologists living in NYC where the storm hit who could have said exactly the same inane thing. "Would they ask NYC meteorologists for an opinion if we got nailed here in JoePaLand? I don't THINK so!"

Across the region, the 24-hour accumulations were equally awesome: 24.5 inches in the Bronx and in New Rochelle in Westchester County, 21.3 inches in Newark, 20 inches in Saddle Brook, N.J., 19.9 inches in Islip, N.Y., 26 inches in Danbury, Conn., and 30.2 inches in Fairfield, Conn., the highest in the region. Elsewhere, accumulations were 19 inches in Robbinsville, N.C.; 12 inches in Leesburg, Va.; 8.8 inches in Washington; 15.5 inches in Hockessin, Del. and 22.5 inches in Columbia Hills, Md.

Oddly, the record snowstorm in New York City was not technically a blizzard there, although it met the criteria on Long Island and elsewhere: winds of at least 35 miles an hour for three consecutive hours, visibility of less than a quarter mile, and a minimum of one snowbound SUV every tenth of a mile for no less than an aggregate of 39.6 miles.

Whatever its official status in Gotham, the storm, a classic northeaster, was so powerful and the snow so deep that it will surely be remembered as a blizzard, no matter what. "We are talking about a technical definition," said Jeff Tongue, a part-time meteorologist and clairvoyant with the National Weather Service at Brookhaven, N.Y. "Who gives two shits about THAT when you're wading up to your willy in this sloppy, slippery stuff, yo?"

Feeling a little blue after UM's fourth quarter collapse against OSU? Then you need a little

Numa, Numa.

The final score: OSU 25, UM 21

______________________________________________________________________

Then she sobbed, and thrusting down the paper, she assumed a foul-shooting stance and began to make shooting motions, one after the other, as if she were re-living her glory days on the free throw line at South Haven or Cook's Forest. I was feeling a little uncomfortable at that point, so I quickly turned away, lest she see me. (What could I possibly have said to her if she had known I had witnessed THAT exhibition?)

Glory days, South Haven, HF'98

'Oh, Oh,' I thought, 'I've got to talk to Rich about this!' Heading quickly away from the kitchen, I looked to my left as I passed through the foyer, and -- speak of the devil -- there he was, out on the front bench, hunched over his morning coffee and sneaking a smoke. Amazingly, Rich was talking to himself. I edged closer to the window to hear: "Hey, you're the next Commissioner, so just bring foul shooting back to the HackFest. F**k it. Just do it! And get her off your back." He paused, inhaled deeply on the Marboro Light, coughed wretchedly, gobbed into the bushes, then continued, as if an idea had just hatched, "Wait a minute! It can be a birthday present next May! Yeah, that's it...I'll do it for her birthday! Anything to make her happy...anything...."

Thinking that I was perhaps having some bizarre dream, I fled the area and ran back upstairs, where I returned to my bed for another hour of deep slumber. This is the first I've thought of that morning since then. WOM

In any case, we all fervently hope that you get your wish, Mary Ellla. Happy, Happy Birthday!

Little known fact: When Mary Ella's free throw percentage dropped to 98.61, she turned to sharpshooting sister-in-law Donna for some late night coaching. Soon her percentage jumped back to its usual 100.58.

Chris turns 20.

The Birthday Boy, just last summer in Ann Arbor, after lunching on a 12-pack of Fat Weasel Ale and a bag of Doritos. Astonishingly, despite being fast asleep, even snoring, he continued playing and winning one of his favorite games, Prison Tycoon 2: Maximum Security.

Hang in there, Chris. Only one more year and you can toss that fake I.D.

HB, RJ

Cousin John McCluskey, the Birthday Lad himself, JPM, circa 1955

Birthday Boy RJM, wearing big brother Bill's clashing cast offs (AKA hand-me-downs), just a day or two prior to their being passed down even further to an eager and oblivious JP -- after whom they would eventually land in the as-yet-born Mick-Mouse Marion's wardrobe.

Here the boys are being mollified with a mixture of raw sugar and flour while an overwhelmed Martha and Aunt Kitty, with Julie's help, of course, scramble to cobble together a proper white cake for the demanding celebrant and his guests.

All the best on your Big Day, Ricardo!

To the victors go the spoils...

Mother and Daughter greet the immense contingent of delirous Mercy fans after the girls' stirring victory over IND. The two are smiling so broadly because Rich, assuming they'd lose to these feared opponents for the sixth straight year, promised he'd take them out to McDonald's for McCrabcakes and oyster-fries if, by chance, they won. Now he was going to have to pay up.

Note angry mob of IND followers milling about in disbelief and disgust in background. Scary.

How Sweet It Is!

Here the Mercy girls celebrate their astounding win over their nemesis, IND (see just below). Amazingly, this was BEFORE the game even started, so confident were they that day.

Swishhhhhhhh!

Showing exquisite form, remarkably like that of her Uncle Bill's, Young Maggie lines up a shot from beyond the arc in Mercy's recent 37-24 epic victory over long-time rivals IND, a team they hadn't beaten in five long years. In this photo, Maggie's teammate, #25, suddenly cut past MM as she was firing away, and the ball hit the poor girl on the side of the noggin, bounced high in the air, and then dropped right through the basket, giving her a very heady assist. Amazing.

Here's what proud Papa RJ had to say: "The game was played before a packed house at Towson U (4,000 people --more than attend the games of some college teams!)...In Maggie's brief appearance, about 3 minutes, she forced a turnover, held her player scoreless, and had an assist. Not bad for a Sophomore...."

Visit the Mercy High School website and view MORE PHOTOS OF THE BIG GAME -- including a classic shot of Coach Mary Ella giving a rousing halftime speech to the wrong team! It seems that in her excitement at actually leading after two quarters, she wandered into the opposing lockerroom. It wasn't until she had nearly completed her talk that she realized her mistake. Whoops! (Fortunately, the IND coach -- that's her in the background -- had forgotten her notes and was happy to let Coach Marion hold forth.)

Note: We won't mention that Mercy, still flying high after such a rousing victory, squandered a 17-point lead a week or so later while losing a tight one to a crappy, er, scrappy St Mary's squad. We simply refuse to talk about THAT.

Maggie the Magnificent

January 2007 - RJ recently reported that sophomore Maggie (on right in this file photo, arms properly up and out in the classic defensive position made famous by the great Bill Russell ) led the way as Mercy High -- coached, of course, by her own Hall of Fame Mother, Mary Ella, also seen on right above in yellow shorts, arms properly behind her back in the classic authoritarian position made famous by the great Winston Churchill -- earlier this month defeated a formidable St. John's Prospect Hall squad (no relation to St. John's Wort Hall) in OT. Maggie topped all Mercy scorers with nine critical points, including a 3 (her specialty shot, modeled after that of her mentor-in-absentia, Uncle Bill, whom she subconsciously watched during many an excruciating HackFest b'ball tussle involving her father and other uncles). Congratulations, Maggie!

Marathon Matt, part II

10/06 - Matt O. Marion took time away from his studies at Salisbury to participate, once again, in the annual Baltimore Marathon, finishing the daunting 26 mile, 385 yard event in a stellar 3 hours, 55 minutes. His time is particularly impressive given that, to the best of our knowledge, he possesses no Kenyan blood (and for that matter, has not yet even visited Kenya), but also because as a 21-year-old university student, he does most of his training in the pubs and clubs near his school....

(Note that Matt, too embarrassed by the team's most recent Rose Bowl loss to don his Michigan Wolverine apparel, has opted instead to wear his SU tee, a smart, loyal choice, but, alas, also a sad, subtle statement on the miserable maize 'n blue reality of yet another year of unfulfilled hopes and dreams.)

Basketball Diaries

"Maggie and MaryElla's AAU basketball squad recently competed in Hershey, PA, in the Junior Nationals and went 4-2 against teams from New York to Connecticut to Virginia. Quite a feat for a group of freshmen. Maggie had a great final game as the Fury beat a very good New York team (the Eagles) by 4. She had at least 10 points of the 40 or so scored." RJM, proud hubby and father

Ed. note: Although Rich was too modest to say so in his caption above, in reality, this photo was taken just moments before Maggie (number 31), utilizing her remarkable wingspan (which has been compared to the late Wilt Chamberlain's) intercepted a lazy pass from number 1 -- whose attention was strategically diverted by Coach Marion's bright yellow shorts (upper right sideline). The Maggster then faked the poor lass out of her jock (the female version thereof -- a Nike sports bra), and took it right to the hoop, slamming the ball in over the imposing Eagles' center, a 7"2" import from Rumania, actually a gentle soul whose hobby is knitting knee pads for her teammates. Eat your heart out, Dwayne!

Happy Anniversary RJ and Mary Ella!

-25 years-

Baltimore, 7/11/81 - The wedding party does shots of La Penca mezcal as, to the left, WO directs the band to begin its surprise medley of Saturday Night Fever standards. Those of you in attendance will fondly remember the sight of the unabashed bride and groom, after three more quick shots, spontaneously climbing up onto the table and displaying their legendary disco moves to all in attendance during renditions of the Bee Gees' "Jive Talkin,'" "Stayin' Alive," and the ever-subtle "How deep is your love?" (which, to this day, remains the veteran couple's "song.") Amazing. Note lucky stiff Michael J sucking down the worm and JP's brown locks in the days before he began to dye them gray in order to appear older and more distinguished than his older and more distinguished appearing brothers.

July 11, 1981

This remarkably candid photo was surreptitiously taken with a micro-camera hidden in the groom's cummerbund. It was only recently discovered by the disgraced owner of the tux shop, as he was moving out of his just-closed business. (The man was recently convicted of also hiding micro-cameras in brides' garters; he was given three years on a fourth-degree sexual misconduct conviction.) Using a combination of google, yahoo, anywho, intelius, the greater Baltimore phonebook, and a door-to-door search, he tracked RJ down and presented it to him before presenting himself to the authorities for incarceration. RJ, in turn, passed it on to me. WOM

Wanting desperately to get started with the real business at hand -- the honeymoon -- the dreamy-eyed bride attempts to lure her dazed and confused new mate away from their wedding reception...just two minutes after they had arrived! The ever-responsible Rich, however, desperately desiring a martini or two (or three) before he went anywhere, hems and haws at the suggestion, attempting to convince his wife that, perhaps, it might be wise to at least wait until the guests had arrived before they hightailed it out of there. Reluctantly listening to reason, Mary Ella nevertheless continued to pepper RJ's acutely attuned ear with highly suggestive innuendos for the next two hours until they were finally able to make their glorious escape....

Sleeper

Matt Marion, shown nailing down an eagle at number 6. In fact, the Salisbury Stallion had the best round of his life that morning...without even leaving Mr. Mattress! While he missed his 5:58 tee time -- and the rare opportunity to whack it with his father and Uncles MJ and WO -- he still managed to get out there on the challenging Mt. Pleasant course in his dreams, also scoring his first hole-in-one (on a 368-yard par 4!), giving him a double eagle on his way to his best score ever: a 61! (This equaled the record set by Arnie Palmer back in 1963.) In fact, Matt would have broken the record if his aforesaid uncles and father hadn't been so noisy upon their return from actually playing the course. Their rattling around in the kitchen awakened the poor lad just as he was about to attempt a 20-foot putt for birdie on number 18. No doubt he would have drained it, the way he was playing that morning, so we'll give him that 60 anyway: Pick it up, Matthew!

HB, Maggie!

From her earliest days of toddlerhood, the one and only Maggie knew which team to stand behind. (Always WAS a smart one!)

Happy 15th, young lady.

And Go Blue!!!

HB, Matt!

Although he appears to be the soul of innocence in his fourth grade photo, we all know that Matt was secretly dreaming of the day when he could legally share martinis with his father and wine spritzers with his mother. Well, that day has come. All the best on your Big Day, Matthew!

HB, RJ!!!!

In the shadow of the family Chevy and using a football more suited in size to Big Foot (seen below in an exclusive photo), a determined young RJ practices his punting in this mid-50's tableau. (Amazingly, he was left-footed even back then!) A decade-and-half later, Rich would serve as punter on the Sacred Heart High football team, a testament to his early dedication, but as it turned out, a sadly fateful position (ask him about it). Here's to a 55-yards-and-a-perfect-spiral kind of B'day, RJ....

Big Foot himself

HB, MEM!

">">

Cook Forest, PA August, 1995

Mary Ella attempts to indoctrinate niece Michelle on the benefits and joys of girls' basketball, including the increased odds of snagging a manly, athletic husband and, in her case, the perpetual thrill of making more free throws than the exceedingly virile Marion menfolk. Although she showed great enthusiasm at the time, young Michelle would eventually migrate to ballet (despite its dearth of real men), ironically thanks in part to the grace, artistry, and sophisticated moves of her uncles and father that she witnessed during the countless and legendary HackFest b'ball games of yore. Nice try, Mary Ella. And a very Happy Birthday!

Sure, the move into mature adulthood is painful. We know. Congratulations, you two on yet another baby step in that direction! Happy B'day Mavourneen (22!) & Chris (19!).

HB, Maggie!

Cook Forest, PA, 1995

Could it possibly be true that this four-year-old version of the One-and-Only is now FOUR TIMES OLDER? Yes, Maggie is 16! Now, among other things, she can legally drive (once she has her license if her parents will give her the car), drink beer and wine (in Germany), and get a body part pierced without prior authorization (not recommended if she plans to continue living at her current address)....

Most importantly, she can continue being the innately sweet person we see above. After all, she's the perfect age for it.

All the best on your Big Day, Maggie!

HB, Matt!

Madman Matt?