Word of Mouth

Saturday, about 10:30 a.m. One kid away at college. Our high-schooler heading out for an overnight with friends.

I look at my wife. "How about a show in the city?"

We get in the car. This time, the drive into NYC takes 58 minutes.

Park the car. Lunch at a classic Irish pub. A stop for coffee. In our seats by 1:45 for Just in Time at Circle in the Square.

That's one of my favorite perks of living about an hour outside NYC. Room to spread out at home. Broadway when the mood strikes.

What's your favorite perk of where you live?

A group of local moms here in the East Hanover area decided to try something new this year. They formed a women's bocce team and called themselves the Queens of the Court.

In their very first season in the league, they made the playoffs. The playoff game is this evening, Wednesday, November 4, at Lurker Park in East Hanover.

Seven Queens, one crown, total control!

Meet the Queens: Maria, Doc Jo, Coach Gina, Angel, Toni, Kim, and Nonna Natalie.

Every team needs a theme song, so I wrote them one. It's called Queens of the Court, and it asks the only question that matters: Who owns the court? The Queens!

Friends, family, and neighbors, come on out tonight. Bring a chair, bring the kids, and bring your loudest cheer.

Cheers, Sean

Last night we threw a party for my kid's soccer team. The kids knew exactly what they wanted… chicken, dessert, cookies, brownies, and churros. Lots of churros. Did they need it? Not even close. But they wanted it.

This morning we did what our family has done for years. We packed up the leftovers and dropped them at Market Street Mission in Morristown. Food a bunch of kids wanted last night went to people who truly needed it today.

Most of what fills our homes is Want. A few miles away, our neighbors are living on Need.

This isn't meant to impress anyone… it's to impress upon all of us how little it takes. Most of what fills our homes is Want. A few miles away, our neighbors are living on Need.

Heading into Thanksgiving, most of us already have Enough. Gratitude isn't just what we say around the table… it's what we do with the leftovers.

Pack it up. Drop it off. And btw, Market Street Mission is holding a Free Coat Giveaway on the first Saturday of November, 10 AM to 1 PM on the Morristown Green. If there's a coat sitting in your closet, there's a neighbor who Needs it. The Ripple Effect is bigger than you think.

Cheers, Sean

The alarm went off at four. Not because anyone had to be anywhere, but because a noon kickoff at Beaver Stadium means the lot opens early and the grill has to be hot before the sun is. By the time the kids wandered over from the dorms, still finding their sunglasses, the parents had been at it for hours.

This is the crew. Andy had the lamb chops on before daylight. Gina was shaking Jello shots like it was a job she'd held since dawn. Natalie ran the sliders, Toni's cookies were still warm from the drive, and Maria brought the white rice, because you do not come to Lot 12 alone. Doc Jo came loaded for bear. P Seany handled the stogies and the espresso martinis. Gino held the keys to the church van, because somebody has to get everybody home.

We were tailgating this lot before they learned to park.

The kids think they invented this. Bless their hearts. We were tailgating this lot before they learned to park. So we wrote it down the only way that seemed right, as a song, and it's below. Turn it up. Then go find your own Lot 12.

One more thing, since a lot of us in that lot are parents of students here: if you're weighing a place in State College for your kid, or anywhere else for that matter, I'm the one your friends mention. No pitch. Just ask.

We could have run the usual tourist loop. Instead we handed the day to Sadik Anvarali of Bonded Company Ltd., and he drove the five of us, my wife Dr. Jo, our two daughters, and me, straight past the guidebook and into the Lisbon that locals quietly keep for themselves.

He took us to Palácio Fronteira, where the walls are wrapped in hand-painted azulejo tile and the garden still runs a marble fountain older than the country I live in. Then a long, unhurried lunch at Paço de Carnide (the kind of neighborhood table you would never find on your own) with a chilled 2025 Soalheiro Alvarinho I'm now going to spend a year hunting down back home.

That's the difference between seeing a place and being let into it.

Sadik doesn't march you through a checklist. He reads the day, reads the table, and opens doors. Five stars doesn't cover it. I'd hand him the whole sky. If Portugal is anywhere on your map, start the conversation with him first.