Twenty six years ago, Superbowl Sunday was on the last Sunday of January and  the Patriots were playing.   Although I am hardly a football fan, I know  because it was the day of our daughter’s naming ceremony.  

We were out on the deck after the ceremony enjoying a sunny Oakland winter afternoon- clear skies and 72 degrees- when I noticed that my darling infant daughter was looking red.  I had her all swaddled in blankets like my mother taught me and my poor baby was roasting.  New England child rearing practices needed a bit of an adjustment for Pacific breezes.

Now a quarter century later - Amelia is on her way to watch the game with friends in downtown Boston and I am in the central highlands of Mexico. In a few minutes I will take my apple cobbler around the corner and watch the game with former Bostonians…