tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14474631.post2876367897207631399..comments2023-10-19T05:40:59.162-04:00Comments on Sippican Cottage: What If Everything In The World Were A Misunderstanding, What If Laughter Were Really Tears?SippicanCottagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14940797380578921776noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14474631.post-58421953741868091002014-05-11T09:50:28.734-04:002014-05-11T09:50:28.734-04:00Tonight's attendance 13,909.Tonight's attendance 13,909.sykes.1https://www.blogger.com/profile/10954672321945289871noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14474631.post-23165204424518131812014-05-06T06:02:53.860-04:002014-05-06T06:02:53.860-04:00We are of the age that we recall those experiences...We are of the age that we recall those experiences that could never exist today because of all the rules…I even remember flying on a plane, wearing a suit of course, and having people all around me smoking during the flight. <br /><br /> Most of my "I'd kill to go back" revolve around my dad and being around cops as he was a police chief. <br /><br />We had nothing, but we had everything. Ray V.http://villageundertaker.wordpress.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14474631.post-74028394920171079352014-05-05T10:52:46.627-04:002014-05-05T10:52:46.627-04:00I often cry when I laugh. Happy tears. I also lau...I often cry when I laugh. Happy tears. I also laugh when I am sad, not sure what that is all about. Thanks for sharing.Lesliehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02284936021406079076noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14474631.post-18360049378431388072014-05-05T10:27:37.874-04:002014-05-05T10:27:37.874-04:00Nice music. So the basketball guy always misses a...Nice music. So the basketball guy always misses and the hockey guy always makes the shot. Is that what this is all about? Can't figure it out. I grew up in Florida. No ice. No basketball. Our pro baseball team was in Atlanta. College football was about it I guess. Go Gators. I remember a liquored up Gator Bowl. I was standing about half way up the stands in an aisle in my Boy Scout uniform (yet that's me, usher Larry) watching the whiskey bottles fly. Interesting times. It wasn't until college days at The Swamp that I finally figured out some of what was happening down on the field.Larry Geigerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13158449612437822789noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14474631.post-54081771403811704632014-05-04T22:29:13.411-04:002014-05-04T22:29:13.411-04:00Same first notes as Rikki Don't Lose That Numb...Same first notes as Rikki Don't Lose That NumberAnonymousnoreply@blogger.com