good luck with the unlearning

Sofia has picked up a few things in her four years. Some of those things are catchy marketing phrases and slogans that she has seen on TV or heard on the radio ... or that she has heard her dad repeating.

In five years in Boston, I heard a lot of radio jingles -- my job required me to have news radio on all the time, and they play a lot of ads on news and talk radio in Boston. (Those of you who listen to the Red Sox radio network can attest to this -- I'm betting all of you can sing the 1-800-54-GIANT Giant Glass song. Once, at a Newport Gulls NECBL game, a foul ball hit a windshield on the street behind the stadium and I could not stop myself from belting out "WHO DO YOU CALL WHEN YOUR WINDSHIELD'S BUSTED!?!?")

Well, the apple does not fall far from the tree. Consider this example from one of my recent backyard barbecue expeditions.

One of the ads I used to hear a lot was for Tommy Floramo's in Everett, which is apparently famous for its ribs. Their phrase that pays? "The meat falls off the bone." And in one spot, an opera singer memorably warbles that phrase at the end.

I guess over the ensuing years, I must have repeated that line a few times. Because there I was this spring, turning chicken legs on the grill, when out of nowhere Sofia crowed, "The meat falls off the bone!!!!"

So every time I grill chicken legs, we have a little singalong.

fancy feet

Sofia has taken up a new sport -- Soccer.



Sofia and Josh play in the back yard.

For her birthday two years ago, Uncle Mike got Sofia a kid-sized World Cup soccer ball. She showed some interest in playing with it over the last two summers, but not that much. The concept of what it was for was a little lost on her, and other games were more interesting.

This summer, she took right to it. Don't know if it was the other sports classes she's been taking at the Y or if it's just a case of her growing (and it's probably both), but sofia has suddenly gotten good at dribbling a soccer ball. Whenever I get home from work, she wants to play in the back yard.

Like any parent who dreams of college scholarships, I tried getting her to pass the ball back and forth (improving) and dribbling the ball around and through a line of lawn chairs (not bad). Thing is, these are not things she wants to do.

"Daddy, I want to play the real soccer now," she says.

The real soccer, by the way, is her kicking the ball and trying to keep away from me -- or me trying to keep the ball away from her. Which is fine, if you're in decent physical shape. I'm still getting there...

So the real test will come this summer, when Sofia goes to day soccer camp at the Y. It's a good first step, we think -- given that it's the Y, the emphasis will likely be on learning, improving and having fun, rather than drills, instruction and the win-at-all-costs mentality that has infected youth sports. There will be plenty of time for that later, I'm afraid. Soccer is pretty competitive in this town and I bet there are not many players on the boys or girls team who are not also playing travel team club soccer in the summer.

For now, it's all about fun .. and I like that.