photo by John Robison
On Monday night, my dear friend Megan and I attended the Flutie Bowl, a fundraiser in Boston for the Flutie Foundation. The event appeared to be a huge success, attended by folks from all walks of life, including a good number of New England Patriots.
Long before I had any personal association with autism, I was aware of the Fluties’ amazing work on behalf of their son, Dougie. So when my friend, John mentioned the fundraiser, I was immediately on board. Even if it was (gasp) a Monday night.
Laurie and Doug Flutie Sr (the dreamy one in the middle of the picture above) began the foundation back in 1998. On their website, it says the following:
Doug and Laurie are fortunate to have the resources to provide their son with the educational opportunities, special equipment and tools necessary for Doug, Jr. to live a happy and rewarding life. They realize, however, that there are thousands of families of children with autism who struggle every day to pay for similar services. Their primary objective is to provide families with a place to turn when they are in need of support and autism resources.
And that, my friends is why I dragged my butt out (along with Megan’s butt) on a Monday night to bowl.
ed note .. OK, OK, so I didn’t actually bowl. I was wearing stilettos. I mean, of course I was, right? And man, those bowling shoes would have just killed the whole mojo. Now, if I had me a nifty bowling shirt like Doug, maybe. Or, maybe not.
ed other note .. Sincere thanks to my friend John for not only taking that picture, but for hunting down poor Doug and dragging him over to indulge my very childish (and mildly stalkerish) desire for a photo with a childhood crush hero. Heaven knows what he actually had to say or do to get him to come over, but apparently even a guy who stared down 300 lb defensive linemen doesn’t stand a chance against John on a mission.
ed um other, other note .. Apologies to my dear, sweet husband for my complete and utter ignorance in the area of professional football. The poor guy was stuck home with a nasty stomach bug and had to miss the event. I’d imagine that a half-decent wife would at least have offered even a half hearted run-down of the football players in attendance. Perhaps she’d even have something slightly more illuminating than, ‘Well, there was this really, really tall white guy with immensely broad shoulders – kinda like Paul Bunyon. Oh, and this crazy tall black guy with even broader shoulders.’ I’m so sorry, honey. You deserve better. Really.