Is this news?

It may not be up there with Headless Body in Topless Bar, the infamous New York City headline, but this one has got to get honorable mention. It was either a slow news day or the grownups at the Trentonian started their holiday weekend early and left some kids in charge.

Having gotten the inspiration for all three of my books from items in the newspaper, I had to buy the paper. Who knows..maybe I can use it for book four.

Apart from dead celebs and the really serious stuff (war, the economy, the Yankees and the Red Sox), what's catching your eye in the papers these days?

Is it Roger Federer's quest for number 15, some politician's non-trip to the Appalachian trail? Take your gun to church day?

Is there anything you'd like to turn into your next mystery?

ON DIRTY WATER

"Cuz I love that Dirty Water! Oh, oh, Boston you're my home...

*** The Standells


Are you singing now? That's song from our college days has now become the anthem ofthe Boston Red Sox. Now the title also applies to a brand new mystery!

Mary-Ann Tirone Smith and her son, Jere Smith, are co-authors of the new novel Dirty Water: A Red Sox Mystery. Mary-Ann has published nine books including the Poppy Rice mystery

series and most recently her memoir, Girls of Tender Age. Jere is a Red Sox blogger, maintaining "A Red Sox Fan from Pinstripe Territory" for the past five years.

So how do a mother and son manage to write a Red Sox mystery--together? Without an umpire?

And how did that even happen? Let's let Jere tell all. So--Jere? You're up..

JERE:

I. I remember the day my parents brought home a "Trash 80." This was the nickname for an early home computer, the TRS-80. We flipped it on and watched in awe as it turned the numerical date we fed it (01/01/83) into a written-out one (Saturday, January 1st, 1983). My mom brought it to her office and reluctantly replaced her typewriter with it.Soon, she had a published novel, The Book of Phoebe.

I was incredibly impressed with my mother--I thought it was really cool that she had her name on a book jacket. Any time we'd enter a room together, people would say, "there's the famous author." I thought it'd be nice to be the famous anything.

But as far as following in her footsteps, I didn't think I had that gene. Writing was just "what my mom did." I'd write when they made me write in school, but all of my papers consisted of a paragraph describing something I did, followed by a summarizing paragraph starting with the line "So as you can see...." I just never got the hang of it.

II. Baseball has always been big with me. There's a picture of me swinging a Wiffle Bat at age one. At three, while most kids were struggling to learn to read, I was listing off the entire Red Sox roster, as well as the names of complete strangers I was taught to hate simply because they wore the rival team's pinstripes--a parenting lesson I admire and promote.

Even though I lived in western Connecticut, where the Yankees were king and the Red Sox could rarely (and later not at all) be seen on TV, it was already decided--I was a fourth-generation Sox fan, and I was a die-hard. My team hadn't won since my grandparents were toddlers, the TV only showed the Yankees, and the Orioles station somehow overpowered my team's broadcasts on the radio, but I stuck with them.

And now here I am, at age 33. I started A Red Sox Fan from Pinstripe Territory to document my situation, and since then I've seen my team win their first World Series in 86 years, and then win another one. The blog has become a place for me to post pictures and videos, but mainly consists of my writing about the Sox or what it's like to root for them. Still, I didn't realize I was a "writer" until recently. I just thought of what I did on my blog as "talkin' about the Red Sox."

People always say you should do something you love. I didn't know I loved writing until something else I loved led me to it.

III. In 2007, my mom was asked by Dan Doyle, who heads up the Institute for International Sport and its publishing arm, Hall of Fame Press, if she wanted write a "Red Sox mystery." She immediately said yes. But now she had another writer in the family who, like her, is a Sox fan, but knows the ins and outs of the team, its ballpark, and the game of baseball.

So she asked if I wanted to collaborate. I was in. I had just moved from New York City to Boston, and she was in New Haven, so we'd each drive to Rhode Island and have meetings about what we were going to say and how we were going to say it. Our collaboration also involved lots of e-mailing back and forth, as we'd write and re-write. We'd talk about characters, plotlines, dialogue, and red herrings. I learned a lot. I kept thinking, "We're giving too much away," or, "people aren't gonna believe this," or, alternately, in my naivete, "let's have the killer be caught at home plate during the seventh game of the World Series!"

We walked the Fenway neighborhood--which I do a lot anyway, as I go to about 20 Sox games a year--and even got a little behind-the-scenes tour from a mystery man with the team. All of that allowed us to write the book we wanted to write. It's got dead people, Boston cops, Cuban ballplayer smugglers, and the real-life Boston Red Sox players along with the folks who cover the team.

The unique aspect of our book is how we have a blog, complete with comments, running through the book. One of the mysteries of this mystery is: Who is this blogger?

So as you can see (hey-ohh!), my mom and I pooled our talents, and combined our love of writing with our love of the Red Sox. The result is Dirty Water: A Red Sox Mystery. It's been so fun to see it go from an idea to a hardcover book in my hand. And I can honestly say that my mom, who's still trying to master the art of commenting on my blog, would have written her contributions to the book on that Trash 80, had it not broken down decades ago.

HANK: Only one thing to say now--there's always next year. Go Sox--or--who are you rooting for?

The aftermath of Big Screen TV

Time has convinced me of one thing. Television is for appearing on, not looking at. ~Noel Coward

JAN: I’m not normally a visual person. Like a lot of writers, I live inside my head. But I’ve got it worse. I walk into rooms and don’t see the décor, can completely miss someone’s new haircut, and have been known to not even notice that it’s been raining all week.

But that’s only in real life.

About two years ago, my husband installed a new television. I say “installed” because it's not actually a television, but a projector screen that rolls down from the ceiling. It’s about eight feet wide and five feet tall. And we have high definition, which mean everything isn’t just large, it’s crystal clear.

And this is changing me. And not for the better, either. In fact, I’m slowly becoming the most superficial person on the planet. I find myself watching a really educational, thought-provoking PBS documentary, with this takeaway: What's with the bad teeth? Aren’t PBS academic experts educated about orthodontia, too? Are they chosen for their bad teeth? Is that a sign of intellectualism?

It’s not just PBS specials. I now notice everything, everywhere. I notice that in the Coors commercial where they catch the “cold train,” every single person spilling out of the office building is uniformly attractive. No one stands out, but no one is below that American standard.

It's as if youth, perfect, but unexciting features and a flawless complexion were part of the occupancy permit for the building they are fleeing.

But worst is baseball. Probably because the game is so slow and because I’ve watched pretty much every single Red Sox game, I’ve actually ranked the players in terms of attractiveness. Two categories: position players and pitchers. Adjusted as players are traded or put on the DL. And this is pure HD superficiality. No bias: the ranking does not correlate to my favorite players.
So this is my question: Am I the only one out there being corrupted by big screen HD television, or has anyone else noticed that they are noticing what should go unnoticed?

HALLIE: Well, I do love to be petty, so if I HAD a large screen TV, I’m sure I’d be counting zits along with you, Jan.

But I was the last person in Massachusetts to get…a tape deck, a CD player, a video player, a DVD player, a microwave oven, a cell phone (and I still have my first which is now an antique at 8 years old)…so it should come as no surprise that I do not have HDTV. A) I’m cheap, and B) the 18”-TV we have works fine and C) I do not want to dedicate a room in my smallish house to watching the tube (have you noticed, those things are seriously BIG).

When my friends George and Barbara got an HDTV, they had us over to watch football in high def (see, I do know the lingo) and George kept switching back to regular to say “See how amazing the detail is?” I saw, but I confess I didn’t get why that was so great. But then, I can't tell a good sound system from a crummy one, either.

Just drove by where they’re tearing down the multiplex cinema in that’s been in Dedham for decades. Certainly movie theaters and the whole experience of seeing a movie with a community of viewers is a casualty of those massive home entertainment systems.

RO: I'm the wrong person to ask...I still have a manual lawn mower.I don't have HDTV either. I have a big old tv from 12 yrs ago that works fine and is huge so I get that movie theatre feel. (We watched No Country for Old Men last night and I saw quite enough of Javier Barden's psycho face thank you very much.)People ALWAYS say it's great for sports...does it make the balls any bigger?

JAN: I hate to admit it, but the big TV is really great for sports. You can see the ball, the tatoos, the rivulets of sweat. You also get well acquainted with the faces of season fans who sit behind home plate and start to notice when someone is a no-show. But as far as movies go, I can get equally drawn into the story on the big screen or a tiny 18-inch with marginal reception.

ROBERTA: Obviously, you have a group of techno-phobes here Jan! My husband and I have been arguing this one for the last year. All his buddies watch sports on enormous HDTV screens and he wants one too. In fact, he says everyone's got to change over come the end of the year. (Is that even true?) In our case, it would require ripping out the custom-built bookshelves with the perfectly-sized TV cubby. So I'm holding out--I can be just as shallow as the next girl and who needs more of that?

HANK: Yeah, I'm all about TV, and we don't have hi def either. (We do, however, go to our best pals' house next door and watch sports on HD. And it's--amazing. I love it.) (And ha ha, Ro.)
But listen gang, soon I've gotta see my face on it. But here's what I'm hoping. Everyone says TV adds ten pounds and ten years. And it does. But HD doesn't. So we're all buying dermablend make-up (ultra-coverage but sheer), and crossing our fingers.

(So Jan, you're saying you now judge people on TV by how they look? Ha. Most people have been doing that for years. Just read Prime Time.)

Roberta, nope, tell your (adorable) husband you do NOT have to change to HD! Thing is, next February, we all have to switch to digital tv. But most people won't have to do anything. And if you do, it can be free. I'm doing a story about it right now, so I do know the scoop. Any questions?

Red Sox Redux

"I think that the task of an American writer is not to decribe the misgivings of a woman taken in adultery as she looks out of a window at the rain but to describe four hundred people under the lights reaching for a foul ball

...John Cheever

HALLIE: Back to the Red Sox for just a sec. I watched the beginning and the end of every game in the series. In between, I watched with my eyes closed--a habit I got into in the bad old days when every good thing would inevitably be followed by something bad, stupid, horrifying, or all of the above in rapid succession. What this "eyes closed watching" usually involves is falling asleep until my husband vaults off the bed in ecstasy or agony.

And that rhythm section in the bullpen--those big guys playing eensie weensie triangles and cymbols and water-bottle maracas? (Shades of the Nairobi Trio--Ernie Kovacs old gag--or am I dating myself?) Now that's comic relief. Shades of the Nairobi Trio.

In the bad old days, the game WAS the comic relief. Anyone besides me looking back fondly at being perennial losers?

HANK: I watched, too. I'm from Indiana, so I grew up with basketball. Football is fun to watch because it's so easy to multi-task. You don't have to look at the screen the whole time. Hockey, forgive me, I don't understand.

But baseball. What gets me is that when it's two outs, bases loaded, and everything on the line, the world is divided exactly into two kinds of people. The ones who want to be up to bat. And the ones who don't.

The Red Sox--want to be up. And I love it. Ortiz with his congenial ease and oozing good karma. Manny, who is the most hilariously droll--I can't believe he doesn't run. Lowell, who always comes through. Pedroia, the new kid.

Perennial losers? Gets old. I 've watched so many segments of Red Sox games between my fingers, hands in front of my face. When you work at it, isn't it supposed to pay off?
And--heading to writing now--that's persistence. And when you persevere, you win. Just do it, right? Just write the book. And I promise it won't take as long as it took the Sox.

JAN: Sorry Hallie, I'm not looking back fondly at the years of perennial losses. Except to say that those years of agony led to complete esctasy when the Sox became World Series Champions in 2004. The present victory is terrific, but not quite as mind-altering.

What I love best about baseball is the ongoing story. Every player is a protagonist with his obstacles and reversals. The at-bats were clearly set up to build a crescendo of suspense. And there's always a climax (world series) and a resolution. (The Red Sox rock!)

RO: I'm a Mets fan; I'm still licking my wounds and trying to figure out what the hell went wrong. But I grew to - if not exactly love the Red Sox - love the fact that they never give up. What's really bugging me now is how good the Celtics are going to be this year. You guys are going to be insufferable.

HALLIE: The Celtics just don't do the same thing. Seems like pro basketball (and football) players are outsized and extraordinary, whereas baseball players are more merely mortals. Just like (yeah, right) the rest of us.

On Having HEART

Heart (from Damn Yankees)

You've gotta have....Heart! All you really need is heart!

When the odds are sayin' you'll never win, that's when the grin should start!

You've gotta have hope! Mustn't sit around and mope. Nothing's half as bad as it may appear, wait'll next year and hope.

When your luck is battin' zero,get your chin up off the floor.

Mister, you can be a hero. You can open anydoor.

There's nothin' to it, but to do it.
You've gotta have heart! Miles and miles and miles of heart!

Oh, it's fine to be a genius of course! But keep that ol' horse before the cart! First you've got to have heart!

A great pitcher, we haven't got!

A great slugger, we haven't got!

A great pitcher, we haven't got!What've we got?

We've got heart! All you really need is heart! When the odds are sayin', You'll never win, that's when the grin should start!

We've got hope! We don't sit around and mope! Not a solitary sob do we heave, mister'cause we've got hope.

We're so happy, that we're hummin'. Hmm, Hmm, Hmm

That's the heart-y thing to do. Hmm, Hmm, Hmm.

'Cause we know our ship will come in!Hmm, hmm, hmm.

So it's ten years overdue! Hoo, hoo, hoo.

We've got heart! Miles and miles and miles of heart!

Oh it'sfine to be a genius of coarse, but keep that old horse before the cart!

So what the heck's the use of cryin'?Why should we curse?We've got to get better..........'cause we can't get worse!

And to add to it; we've got heart! We've got heart! We've got Heart!

I'm a Mets fan, but you've gotta hand it to those Red Sox for not just cleaning out their lockers, taking their dough and going home.
Go Sox! (At least until next year..)

Rosemary