The simple fact is that for as long as we’re living in our current home, the folks down the hill will never be replaced as our favorite neighbors. But Tony and Belinda, whose colonial sits just up the hill and due east from us, sure are close.
It’s the in-laws — Jack, Earlene, Dana, Jonna, Ava and Maya — who live below, and let’s face it: They’re among our best pals, they join us for Pizza Nights, they share their sandbox and swingset and pink mints. They’re the kind of people you don’t just hang out with because they’re family, but because they’re the kind of people you want to hang out with.
On the other hand, Tony has Celtics tickets.
Yes, yes, yes … Thanks to the good nature and generosity of my favorite uphill neighbor, we’re going to Boston tonight, Tony and I are, to eat at the No Name Restaurant and then make the two-mile trek from Fish Pier Street West to the Garden for Game 4 of the Eastern Conference Finals, where we hope to see the Celtics finish up dressing down the Orlando Magic.
Tony is one-half of the dynamic duo next-door. His wife Belinda is equally cool. The two of them open their home to our kids, let us borrow their tractor, spoil us on Christmas, throw treats over the fence to our dog, and tolerate the daily basketball sessions every 5:15 a.m. They are great, great, great people.
And then, yesterday morning, I arrived home after Noah’s practice to Rosie telling me there’s a surprise, and Mason handing me a folded up piece of paper that is, in fact, my e-ticket to Wonderland, a.k.a. the Boston Garden … tonight.
It’s going to be loud.
Meanwhile … In the foothills of Tony and Belinda’s this morning, another 1,500 when through the rim, as we touched 27.5 percent with a total of 275,207 down, 724,793 to go to 1 million made foul shots.
Thanks, Tony. Can’t wait.