Oh, Dundalk...

This is my first of what I hope to be multiple blogs about various things to include my dear hometown. Although, technically, I suppose that I am not from Dundalk. Meaning Berkshire was not my first address.

I was in fact; a transplant. I firmly believe however, that because I attended Berkshire Elementary School (prior to that time it caught fire in 1986 or so) and because I bowled in the bowling alley with the giant horseshoe out front on Merritt Boulevard and since my little brother spray painted my name with a few really awful comments on the school yard basketball court when we were kids; I can therefore lay claim to my Dundalk heritage as if I were born right there at City Hospital. (It will always be City to me) By the way, Eric, I still may tell Mom you did that.

As I got older, life packed my bags and dropped me in other places. Far away, extravagant places such as Cockeysville and Westminster. As much as I love Carroll County and am now a transplant here as well, Dundalk is still my hometown.

I visited my hometown last Sunday for the flag football games that my adorable and incredibly talented nephews play at Our Immaculate Lady Sacred Mary Heart of Divine Something or Other. I love watching these kids play. Both boys, Jake and Nick Ryan are quarterbacks for their teams and are NFL bound – of that I’m sure. I’m hoping too that my attendance at said games will one day convince these precious angels when they sign those million dollar bonuses to buy Aunt Cyndi a great house and a car that doesn’t smoke when I drive it. Let’s pretend I was joking on that part.

I must be honest, I still do not know the name of the teams but I do know they get to yell ‘Bad Ass!!!” at the end of the game. Well, and possibly at the beginning, too. Don’t believe me? Check out Coach Rodney’s fingers. He self tattoos the words across the back of his digits every Sunday. I love the sly little impish smiles those kids walk away from huddle with after being permitted to yell this battle call out loud. “BAD ASS!”

After a few hours in the rain (Well, the kids were in the rain. I was mostly tucked under a tent with the parents) and great wins for both of my future financial supporters, I was off to Virginia for a three day work conference. Ever the planner, I decided as I set my GPS to Arlington that it would be smart to pick up a little Gatorade for the mini fridge in my hotel room. I stopped at the Sav-A-Lot on Merritt Blvd and proceeded to go in and search out my drink of choice. Sav-A-Lot has about three bottles of soda and not much more so I left the store with a plan to cross the street to Giant. As I walked out of the store a man approached me.

“Hi,” says Man.
“Hi!,” I call back still making my thirsty way to Giant.
“Is that (mumble mumble)?” asks Man.

Now I turn around and stop a bit… this is after all a fellow Dundalkian. I want to hear what he has to say. “Excuse me?,” I offer.
Man responds, “I said ‘Is that your hair?'"

I want to believe that the reason he is asking is because my hair is still a bit wet from the rain and I have thrown a pink bandana on my head to hide the funky drying taking place but I can’t be completely certain. So I just confirm that indeed the hair is mine.

“Oh. Well, you should keep it then. Don’t cut it, okay?”

I leave this fine hair fetish gentleman with promises not to cut my strands of wet hair and make my way over to the Giant and then start off for Virginia.

As I pull out of Dundalk the thought occurs to me that I could actually tell this little tale of the BAD ASS football team on the Mary Lady Heart church field and the man in the store with an odd attraction to hair and the people who live here will not only smile at all the places they can identify with but are probably also wondering if Man is who they think he is because surely they know him or have seen him in the Police Blotter in the Eagle.

After all, Dundalk is just the kind of hometown where folks are quaint enough to know each other and quirky enough to talk about.

Thus giving me fuel for my first Patch blog.

I am hoping the editors do not change their minds and I am back to share more stories with you soon. Until then, wear your own hair, let kids play football and head to the Giant for Gatorade.

See ya next Sunday, Dundalk.