A Heartfelt Goodbye: Honoring My Best Friend Rob

I’m trying to find the right words to honor my best friend, Rob. And honestly… I’m not sure words were ever big enough for him. We had the kind of friendship that was built on laughing way too hard at things no one else understood, finishing each other’s sentences, and driving our wives absolutely insane. Which — let’s be honest — was one of our greatest joys. It was messy, hilarious, loyal to the core, and built on the rule that no idea was ever too ridiculous for him to say, “What the hell, let’s give it a try.”

Two men dressed in vintage-style suits with hats, posing playfully in a kitchen decorated with wine bottles in the background.

And I tested that rule. Often.

Rob grew up in New Jersey, I grew up in New York, and somehow we didn’t meet until we were two grown men living in New Hampshire. Maybe it’s for the best — if we had met any earlier, half the Tri-State Area might’ve issued restraining orders. But from the moment we did meet, something clicked. He was the friend I didn’t even know I needed — the brother I got to choose.

He was also a big guy. Over six feet. Built like a former linebacker. And I’m… well… I’m 5’7” if I stand up straight and think confident thoughts.

Whenever I picked him up, I would very deliberately move the passenger seat all the way forward and crank it up as high as it would go so his head would stick halfway out the sunroof. Every single time, he’d shake his head, fold himself in half like a travel-size giant, and say, “Let’s go.” No annoyance. No complaint. Just Rob being Rob — rolling with the nonsense because that’s what friends do.

Two men sitting at a table in a restaurant, raising their glasses in a toast. One man is wearing a captain's hat, while the other is in a white hat. The setting has a cozy ambiance with mirrors and illuminated decor.

And that was our whole friendship: he’d sigh, shake his head… and then get in the car anyway.

Like the time I may have forgotten that my son needed to move back into his dorm in New Hampshire while I was in California. Who did I call? Rob. And because he was the best, he just said, “Yeah, sure,” as if people called him every day to move their children into their college dorm.

Or the time at dinner after his own vow renewal when someone congratulated us on being a “cute couple.” Rob just shrugged reached across and took my hand and said, “Well, it’s not the worst thing we’ve been accused of.”

A group of people smiling and chatting in a cozy indoor setting, with wooden interiors and festive decorations visible in the background.

Then there were the costumes.

One night, he and Becky came to pick us up for dinner and I was standing in the yard dressed as a T-Rex. Full costume. No explanation. Rob jumped out of the car and chased me around the yard. two 50+ year old men running around the front yard laughing. Becky, his wife, said, “Ok boys. time to go. What are you, 8?” Rob just rolled with it and said, “You riding like that, or are you changing?”

Another time they got home from vacation and found me in their front yard dressed as a lawn jockey. He didn’t even ask why. He just muttered, “I really need new friends,” and then laughed until he couldn’t breathe.

I have enough stories to fill a book — but maybe the mystery is better. Maybe the best way to honor him is knowing that everyone has their own version of Rob… and every version is warm, loyal, and filled with laughter.

He taught me how to fly fish. And I will never forgive him for that. He taught me how to relax and laugh at the world. And for that- I’ll always love him.

Last Saturday was his birthday. Our final texts say everything:
Me: “HAPPY BIRTHDAY! YOU ARE THE MOST AMAZING PERSON I KNOW.”
Rob: “Thanks! You must know a lot of dorks!”
Me: “Yeah — but you’re still the best of them.”
Rob: “Thanks? I love you.”
Me: “We deserve each other. Love you too”
Rob: “We must have been evil in a past life.”

That was us. Silly, loving, ridiculous in all the right ways.

Saying goodbye to him at the hospital was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. We had plans. So many plans. And losing him has left a hole I don’t know how to fill.

I will miss him more than words can describe. I will never laugh as hard as I laughed with him — and honestly, I don’t want to. That kind of laughter belongs to Rob.

A blue monster character embraces a green frog character, both wearing costumes. The setting appears cozy, with wooden backgrounds.

I love you, buddy. Thank you for being the friend I didn’t know I needed, the one who said “yes” to everything, the one who never hesitated to climb into a too-small car seat with his head sticking out the sunroof.

We must have been evil in a past life — because this life, with you in it, was pretty damn wonderful.

Op-Ed: Rebuttal to Gov. Ayotte: Billboards Don’t Fix Schools, Grow an Economy, or Build a Future

Gov. Kelly Ayotte’s press release about running ads in NYC inviting businesses to move to New Hampshire is posted at the end of this op-ed.

By Rep. DAVID PREECE, D-Manchester

Governor Kelly Ayotte wants the country to believe New Hampshire is thriving under her watch. But no billboard truck rolling through Manhattan—or Manchester, for that matter—can hide the simple truth: Ayotte has spent her term defunding the very foundations that make a state worth moving to in the first place.

Ayotte touts “economic opportunity,” yet she cut state support for public schools, forcing local property taxpayers to shoulder even more of the burden. New Hampshire homeowners—especially in cities like Manchester, Nashua, and Rochester—are already paying some of the highest property taxes in the nation. Under Ayotte’s budgets, that pressure only worsens. A state that refuses to adequately fund its own children’s education doesn’t become a magnet for innovation; it becomes a cautionary tale.

She boasts about “freedom” while presiding over some of the lowest investments in culture and the arts in the country—slashing grants that drive tourism, downtown revitalization, and the creative industries that power modern economies. Arts and culture are not luxuries; they are economic engines. Ayotte cut them anyway.

As for economic development, New Hampshire has fallen behind its neighbors because Ayotte dismantled programs that help small businesses expand, attract workforce talent, and modernize infrastructure. Instead, she pours her energy into political theater—billboard stunts that insult entire cities but do nothing to address New Hampshire’s real challenges: sky-high housing costs, a shrinking workforce, unaffordable child care, and gridlocked transportation systems.

Calling New York City “communist” from the comfort of a billboard is easy. Fixing New Hampshire’s housing crisis is hard.
Mocking another state’s mayor is easy. Building a 21st-century economy takes work.

Ayotte chooses the former every time.

While she rents flashy trucks in Manhattan, Granite Staters struggle with rising energy costs that are among the highest in the country. Families brace for another year of inadequate school funding—despite court rulings declaring our current system unconstitutional. Workers leave the state because child care is either unavailable or unaffordable. Businesses can’t expand because employees have nowhere to live.

If Ayotte actually cared about economic opportunity, she would stop strangling public services and start investing in them. She’d fund the arts instead of gutting them. She’d strengthen public education instead of undermining it. She’d support small businesses by backing real, structural economic development—not gimmicks designed to score Fox News airtime.

And if she really cared about Granite Staters, she would stand up to the reckless tariffs imposed by her ally Donald Trump—tariffs that are actively driving up costs for New Hampshire manufacturers, farmers, and small businesses.

But she won’t. Because Ayotte’s politics are performative, not productive.
She governs by spectacle, not substance.

New Hampshire doesn’t need a governor obsessed with billboards.
We need a leader willing to fund our schools, invest in our communities, and build long-term prosperity—not tear it down for national political points.

Kelly Ayotte may think New Hampshire is her prop.
But Granite Staters deserve more than a prop governor.

Rep. David Preece

Below is Gov. Kelly Ayotte’s press release


Announcing the campaign, Governor Ayotte said, “My message to business owners in New York City is this: Come to New Hampshire. We’ll help your business make the switch, and you’ll keep more of your hard-earned money!”
Ayotte campaign spokesman John Corbett added, “New York can experiment with socialism — New Hampshire will stick with lower taxes and more freedom with Governor Ayotte in the corner office. Anyone seeking freedom from Mamdani’s disastrous policies is welcome to join us in the Granite State.”
Under Governor Ayotte’s leadership, New Hampshire is the #1 state in the nation for economic opportunity, taxpayer return on investment, child wellbeing, and public safety, and has been recognized as the most competitive tax structure in the Northeast.
The following ads are running in New York City today:

Democracy Functions as Intended. MAGA National Devastated.

🗳️ Breaking: Democracy Functions as Intended. MAGA Nation Devastated.

Democracy Is Working — Please Remain Calm

Apparently democracy worked this week, and MAGA Nation is furious about it.

In New York City, a democratic-socialist was elected — which sent a shockwave through conservative media. Judging by the online meltdown, you’d think Karl Marx had just been sworn in at City Hall. Spoiler alert: he wasn’t. But I’m fairly certain most of the people screaming about “socialism” couldn’t define it if you spotted them the first five letters.

Then, in Virginia and New Jersey, Democratic women won major elections — and that really seemed to push some folks right over the edge. Suddenly, democracy was “rigged,” “stolen,” or “a sign of the apocalypse.” Funny how that works.

When their candidate wins, it’s all:

“Sit down and take it!”

“Stop being a snowflake!”

But when their candidate loses, it’s:

“THE END IS NIGH! RELEASE THE KRAKEN! PUT UP THE GALLOWS!”

Tell me again how much you love democracy? I guess it’s easy to love when the person looks like you, talks like you, and stands up when they pee.

The lack of basic civic education in this country is honestly terrifying. So much so that the Kentucky Secretary of State had to send out a PSA reminding citizens of two very important facts:

Kentucky wasn’t voting yesterday. (Their elections are next year.) No, you cannot vote for the mayor of New York City.

That’s right. Somewhere in Kentucky, people were trying to figure out how to cast a ballot for an NYC race they have absolutely nothing to do with.

So maybe, before storming the Capitol again, it’s time we all took a deep breath, cracked open a civics textbook, and remembered what democracy actually is: people voting, candidates winning and losing, and government continuing to function — whether you like the results or not.

Democracy worked this week.

Please remain calm.

🗳️ Public Service Announcement

This has been a message from the Department of Elections for People Who Need to Chill Out.

Please consult your nearest high-school civics teacher before posting, tweeting, or constructing homemade gallows.

— Tony Retrosi

Dover, NH — November 2025

Thank You Voters.

Thank You, Dover

Election Day in Dover was cold, blustery, and classic New England — but that didn’t stop democracy from showing up in full force.

I want to thank everyone who ran for office, from School Board to City Council. It takes courage, time, and a deep sense of service to put your name on a ballot. Our city is better for the people willing to step up, listen, and lead.

A special thank you to the voters of Ward 3 for your confidence and support. It’s an honor to continue representing you. I don’t take that trust lightly, and I’ll keep showing up — prepared, practical, and ready to work.

And to the volunteers from both parties who stood outside in the cold and wind, holding signs, greeting neighbors, and helping educate voters — you are the heart of our civic spirit. You remind us that local politics can still be respectful, neighborly, and grounded in community.

There’s no rest after Election Day. At City Hall, we’re right back to work — with a workshop tonight to review the Capital Improvement Plan (CIP), and a Housing Summit tomorrow as we continue tackling one of Dover’s biggest challenges.

Our best years are ahead of us — and I’m grateful to walk into them with all of you.

— Tony Retrosi

City Councilor, Ward 3

Covered Bridge Trail

Earlier this week I wrote about the proposed warming station for Strafford County. Last night we had our public forum on the warming station at the Dover City Council Meeting.

More Than Just a Walk in the Woods

Wooden sign marking the entrance to Don Black Trail, surrounded by autumn foliage and fallen leaves.


Last night’s City Council meeting got pretty lively when the conversation turned to the Don Black Trail—better known around here as the Covered Bridge Trail at County Farm. Several residents stood up to describe it as a mess, overrun by people using drugs and littering.

This morning, I decided to see for myself. I grabbed some gloves and garbage bags, figuring I’d do a little cleanup along the way—if there was any “paraphernalia” to be found.

Well, I did find something unexpected.

Skeletons. Bats. Gravestones. Ghosts hanging from the trees.
But not the kind the council was worried about.

A scenic view of a dirt path leading through a wooded area during autumn, decorated for Halloween with carved pumpkins and a sign for a Haunted Trail.

It turns out the Riverside Rest Home has set up a full-blown Haunted Trail for their residents and for the daycare center next door. When I ran into one of the employees out decorating, she told me how much she enjoys walking the trail on her breaks and how they’ve been having a great time putting the spooky display together.

A little further down the path, I met another woman walking her dog, Elsie (a very good dog, though a little wary of the carved pumpkin near the bridge). She told me she walks the trail nearly every day and hadn’t noticed any problems either—just the usual peace and quiet that makes the Trail such a gem.
Interestingly enough, I also learned that Police Chief Terlemezian had been out that same morning, checking things over.

A spooky Halloween display featuring a skeleton under a black umbrella, a decorative sign for 'Riverside Haunted Trail', and a carved pumpkin, surrounded by autumn leaves in a wooded area.

So while there’s always room for community concern and vigilance, what I saw on the Trail wasn’t danger or decay—it was life. It was community. It was people caring about the same public spaces we all share.

And, at least for this week, it’s also a pretty good place to get a Halloween scare.

A wooden sign welcoming visitors to a Haunted Trail, adorned with a straw hat and a carved pumpkin, set amidst autumn foliage and grass.

We the People: A Call Against Tyranny and Loyalty

NO KINGS

Colorful graphic with the text 'NO KINGS' in bold letters, accompanied by decorative elements including a crown and stars.

For nearly 250 years, America has stood for one simple, powerful idea: we do not bow to kings.

The truth is in the name of the protest itself — NO KINGS.

It doesn’t matter if you’re Republican, Democrat, or Independent — this isn’t about party. It’s about principle.

A Nation Built on Limits — Not Loyalty

When our founders declared independence, they weren’t just rejecting a monarch; they were rejecting the very idea that one person should ever hold absolute power.

They understood that freedom depends on limits — limits on government, limits on leaders, limits on ego.

Today, that same fight continues.

There are those who would have us return to the rule of one man — not through lineage, but through blind loyalty.

We’ve seen leaders who demand fealty, who call anyone who disagrees traitors, who use the machinery of government to punish opponents and reward friends.

That is not democracy. That is monarchy in a new disguise.

To the Most Loyal Among Us

To the most MAGA among us: maybe you supported some of Trump’s policies. Maybe you believed he spoke for you.

But ask yourself — do you really want him, or anyone else, to rule as KING?

How long will it be before he comes after you for disagreeing?

How long before troops are ordered into your cities under the excuse of “maintaining order”?

We fought a revolution to prevent exactly that.

We swore allegiance not to a man, but to a Constitution.

And that Constitution begins with three words: We the People.

Liberty and Justice — For All

Every schoolchild knows how the pledge ends:

“…with liberty and justice for all.”

Not for some. Not for one man. For all.

That’s who holds the power — We the People.

Not kings. Not billionaires. Not bullies with golden crowns and fragile egos.

Stand Together

So when you see a NO KINGS protest — go.

Go not as a partisan, but as an American.

Stand beside your neighbors, your coworkers, your friends — left, right, and center — and say together what generations before us have said:

No. Not here. Not now. Not ever.

Flag featuring the phrase 'We the People' and 'NO KINGS IN AMERICA' in bold, colorful typography against a black background, displayed outside in a garden setting.

Let’s make sure NH stands for science, safety, and community

Let’s make sure NH stands for science, safety, and community

Sept. 8 − To the Editor:

Florida’s decision to end vaccine mandates is a terrible mistake − and it is one New Hampshire should never consider repeating.

For most of human history, the average life expectancy was only 30 to 35 years. People lived on organic food, breathed clean air, and consumed no artificial additives. And yet—they still died young. As Neil deGrasse Tyson has explained, lifespans only increased when science got involved. Vaccines, antibiotics, and public health measures changed everything.

By rejecting this progress, Florida risks a tragic return of diseases once thought eradicated and a rise in preventable deaths. That is not freedom—that is recklessness.

Here in New Hampshire, we pride ourselves on common sense and responsibility to our neighbors. Vaccines are not just a personal choice; they are a social compact that protects the most vulnerable among us—children, seniors, and those with health conditions.

There will also be a huge economic toll from plants and factories initially temporarily shutting down because of the spread of diseases (like during covid) to businesses moving to locations where this will not be an issue. In my work, I spend a great deal of time in Europe, and I already hear of families canceling vacations to Florida and even the U.S. because of health concerns. Do we want New Hampshire associated with that same reputation?

Public health should never be a partisan issue. It is about protecting lives. Let’s make sure New Hampshire stands for science, safety, and community—not politics that put us all at risk.

Tony Retrosi

Dover

Reflections on Life and Friendship.

This was copied from one of my other blogs (VACILANDO). I thought it was worth sharing here.

The Spirit of ‘76 — A Dedication to My Friends Through the Years

There’s a line from a song that hits me every time I hear it:

And me, I’ve seen my dreams come true

But that don’t make me no hero, just one of the lucky few…

It’s from Spirit of ‘76 by The Alarm — a song about growing, surviving, taking chances, and holding on to belief even when the world gets dark. Mike Peters, who wrote it, recently passed away. He was an incredible songwriter, and oddly enough, I ran into him a few times over the years. It’s a story for another day, but it connects deeply with my brother, who passed away ten years ago from the same cancer that took Mike’s life. Life’s strange like that — full of echoes, connections, and chance moments that never quite leave you.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the friends who helped shape me, especially those I grew up with during the 70s and 80s. It was a different world back then — one without GPS tracking, instant messages, or helicopter parenting. We were wild, mostly unsupervised, and totally free. Feral, some might say, and maybe that’s not wrong.

Our parents worked. We raised ourselves — and sometimes our siblings too. From the moment we could ride a bike, we could be anywhere: at the lake, in the city, maybe even a different state. It was chaotic, and it was beautiful. Tight friendships were not a luxury; they were a necessity. There were no cell phones to check in with, no social safety nets. Your lifeline was your crew. You stuck together, or you sank.

Those years taught me how to read people, how to adapt, how to lead, and how to follow. We learned resilience not from books, but from scraped knees, missed buses, heartbreaks, and long summer nights with nothing but music, stars, and dreams.

Two men smiling together while taking a selfie in a cozy, stylish indoor setting with various furnishings in the background.

Fast forward to last week — I was on a work trip in Iceland, and I had dinner and a beer with one of my oldest friends. Someone I met during my first year of college. Back in the fall of 1984, I had just quit competitive gymnastics and was coaching to pay the bills. I wanted to be a teacher. Or maybe a politician. I had no real idea — just this drive to do something that mattered.

We were part of the punk and new wave scene. We studied hard, worked harder, and lived for the weekends when we’d see bands, play a little music ourselves (badly), and just exist in this weird, beautiful community of misfits. It was raw. It was real. It was formative. And that friend? He helped me find myself when I didn’t even know I was lost.

During those college years in New York, I started feeling the push from my parents and professors to fit into boxes. A teacher should look like this. A politician shouldn’t say that. A gymnastics coach? That’s a dead-end job. You’ll never make any money. You’ll never make a difference.

And yet, I kept going.

Eventually, I transferred to a school in New Hampshire. Summers were spent coaching at a gymnastics camp just outside NYC. I was one of the younger coaches — full of nerves, full of awe. But I learned. I grew. I made more friends — and quietly fell in love with someone. (I could write volumes about the people at this camp. Love them all). Life was intense and vivid and complicated, and I wouldn’t change a second of it.

What strikes me now, looking back, is how those friends — the ones from college, the ones from camp — saw me. Really saw me. Not for who I was supposed to be, but for who I was becoming. They accepted the radical thinker, the idealist, the scrappy coach, the music-obsessed kid with big ideas and no clue how to pay rent.

And here I am now. Writing this from the terrace of my apartment in Italy. I’ve got an amazing wife — my rock for over 35 years. Two kids, grown, thriving, chasing their own paths. I’ve coached a few gymnasts who have made Olympic teams, yes. But more importantly, I’ve helped athletes become who they are, in and out of the gym.

But my heart is also with the friends who have struggled — and there have been many. Some have faced down their demons and still fight them every day. Some fell into patterns they couldn’t quite break — whether it was drugs, alcohol, failed relationships, or simply the weight of expectations that never matched their own dreams. Some just never quite “closed the deal” or found the life they were looking for. I see you. I still believe in you. I believe in your ability not just to survive — but to flourish. Think back to the dreams we shared. The promises we made in parking lots and coffee shops and on the hoods of cars in the dead of night. There is still time. 

You see, some nights when I can’t sleep

I still think of you

And all the promises, all our dreams we shared

I know those lights still call to you

I can hear them now…

And every now and then, like anyone else who’s lived a little, I find myself flashing back to those Talking Heads lyrics:

And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack

And you may find yourself in another part of the world

And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile

And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife

And you may ask yourself, “Well… how did I get here?”

A humorous image of a white car half inside a house, protruding from a broken window while a quote from the song 'Once in a Lifetime' by Talking Heads is displayed.

It’s surreal — because that’s exactly what happened. Somehow, in the whirlwind of choices, failures, detours, and friendships, I ended up here. And the honest answer is: I got here because of the people who stood by me. Who lifted me up. Who challenged me, believed in me, and let me be messy and real and unfinished.

The work was hard. The path wasn’t always clear. But it was worth it.

And me? I’ve seen my dreams come true.

But I know I’m just one of the lucky few.

So this is for my friends — the ones from those lost summers and gritty winters, from New York and New Hampshire, from the campgrounds and the music clubs, from the gyms and the midnight drives. Some of you are still here. Some are gone too soon. All of you live in the best parts of me.

“I still believe a man can change his own destiny

But the price is high that has got to be paid

For everyone who survives, there are many who fail…”

I carry your spirit with me — the spirit of ’76. And I will never give in until the day I die.

The 10 Commandments Won’t Boost Grades—But Free School Meals Might

On Sunday, the Texas House of Representatives passed a bill requiring public schools to display the Ten Commandments in every classroom. The irony couldn’t be more obvious: they passed a Christian-themed bill on a Sunday, violating the Fourth Commandment—“Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy.”

How many other commandments have these lawmakers broken?

  • “Thou shalt not bear false witness” — Political dishonesty is basically its own department.
  • “Thou shalt not commit adultery” — Trump won Texas by over 600,000 votes, despite being a serial adulterer. Should he be banned from visiting the state?
  • “Thou shalt have no other gods before me” — In Texas, football is god. Are Sunday Cowboys games canceled out of reverence for the Sabbath? Not a chance.

This isn’t about morality or improving education. It’s about power. It’s about performative piety and Christian nationalism flexing its muscle in public institutions. And it’s intimidating—to non-Christians, nonbelievers, and anyone who still believes in the First Amendment.

Let’s be clear: I’ve never read a peer-reviewed study that says posting the Ten Commandments boosts learning, test scores, or student behavior.

But here’s what we do know works: universal free meals.

A person receiving a plate of food, including a sandwich and vegetables, from a cafeteria worker in a school setting.

A 2020 study published in JAMA Network Open found that when schools provide free breakfast and lunch to all students, test scores riseabsenteeism drops, and behavioral outcomes improve—especially in low-income communities.
CitationGordon, A. R., et al. (2020). Association of Universal School Meals With Student Participation, Attendance, and Academic Performance. JAMA Network Open, 3(6):e205193.

But What About the Constitution?

The Supreme Court has ruled repeatedly that government-endorsed religious displays in public schools violate the Establishment Clause of the First Amendment.

Some landmark cases:

  • Engel v. Vitale (1962) – Ruled that it is unconstitutional for public schools to sponsor prayer, even if it’s non-denominational.
  • Abington School District v. Schempp (1963) – Held that Bible readings and other religious activities in public schools are unconstitutional.
  • Stone v. Graham (1980) – This one’s key: The Court explicitly struck down a Kentucky law requiring the posting of the Ten Commandments in public school classrooms, stating it served no secular purpose and violated the Establishment Clause.
  • Lee v. Weisman (1992) – Found that even school-sponsored prayer at graduation ceremonies is unconstitutional due to its coercive nature.
  • Santa Fe Independent School District v. Doe (2000) – Ruled that student-led prayer at football games, even if initiated by students, is unconstitutional if facilitated by the school.

Texas lawmakers are ignoring decades of legal precedent. This isn’t about educating children—it’s about imposing religion on them. And that’s not just un-American—it’s unconstitutional.

What Actually Improves Education?

If lawmakers truly cared about improving schools, they’d:

  • Fund universal school meals.
  • Hire more mental health counselors.
  • Invest in teacher salariesmodern textbooks, and school infrastructure.

Instead, they’re putting up stone tablets and calling it reform.

Let’s teach ethics through action, not indoctrination. Feed students. Support them. Empower them to think freely—including the freedom not to believe.

Because when religion is forced, it’s no longer faith—it’s control.