Firefly
.: 1 :.
Boston is a town full of history; a history that included my dad's favorite team, the Boston Celtics. Dad grew up watching them during the 80s, at their height of excellence, when Larry Bird was their star player. Before 1986, they won sixteen national championships. Thirty years later, and they've never even come close to winning another.
My parents were an interesting couple. My dad, to typical Bostonian fashion, was a red-haired, hard-drinking Irishman. But as much as he loved sports and drink, he also enjoyed the arts. That's how he met my mom.
Mom was born in Kyoto, Japan. She came to the states to study and fell in love with my dad when they met at an art museum. She said it was love at first sight.
After many years of marriage, they still had their occasional squabbles. Tonight was one of those times. Mom had tickets to go to the opera on the same night as the NBA playoffs.
I guess Dad agreed to go because he didn't think the Celtics would make it this far. No one did. But the team somehow pulled off a miracle, and tonight was the final game in the series.
Although they'd argued about the game all week, in the end, my father's love for my mom outweighed his love of the sport. He made me promise to record it and not say a word about who won when he came home. It was an easy promise to make. T had no intention of watching the game.
Once I knew they were gone. I ran into my room and turned on my computer. I was going on a trip. I donned my FMD and clicked on ALTIMIT OS.
I knew my dad would be angry if he found out that I not only skipped dinner and me opera to play an online game, but also missed taping the playoff game that he so desperately wanted to stay home and watch. But I was fairly devious when it came to exploiting me family rules.
I tapped the keyboard and entered a world without borders. 1 wanted to go to my mom's country. I was going to Japan.
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