sudbury massachusetts


Did you know that Mary from the children’s rhyme Mary Had a Little Lamb was real? You can actually visit the school house where the famous event happened. The schoolhouse used to be in Sterling, Massachusetts, where it was built. However, in the 1920s, Henry Ford decided to move the house to Sudbury, Massachusetts, where it remains to this day. The schoolhouse itself taught grades 1 to 4 and served classes until 1951, when it closed. Mary Sawyer’s Little Red Schoolhouse is available to be toured, though it is certainly not the most grand tour - it being of a 1 room school. 


LEGAL NAME: Noah Robert Dawson
ETHNICITY: Irish, Italian
DATE OF BIRTH | AGE: June 13th, 1981 | 35
PLACE OF BIRTH: | PREVIOUS LIVING CONDITIONS: Boston, Massachusetts | Sudbury, Massachusetts
CURRENT LIVING CONDITIONS: Boston, Massachusetts, Los Angeles, California, and New York City, New York
EDUCATION: High school diploma
OCCUPATION: Actor, director
DRINK | SMOKE | DRUGS: Yes | Occasionally | No
HAIR COLOR: Medium brown
HEIGHT: 6'0"
WITH WHO: Dahlia Abrams-Dawson
SINCE WHEN: 10/15/16
CHILDREN: One on the way
LIKE[S]: Space, dogs, jellybeans, philsophy, good beer, Boston, politics, kids falling down, nature, sunsets, football
DISLIKE[S]: Bullies, crowded spaces, over exposure, politics, sushi, being away from home, interviews, negativity, liars, sour candy, pretentiousness
PHOBIA[S]: Failure, spiders, losing his family, sharks, heights
GOOD: Deeply loyal, intelligent, witty, playful, amiable, dedicated, compassionate
BAD: Anxious, possessive, struggles to be serious, dismissive, sarcastic, evasive, overbearing

Sundance review: Gymnastic sex isn't enough to salvage 'The Bronze'

PARK CITY, Utah — The conversation around women in cinema has subtly shifted in recent weeks, from the need for female heroes to the need for female anti-heroes. And boy, did we get one with The Bronze at the Eccles Theatre on Thursday night, the first big premiere of Sundance.

Played by The Big Bang Theory star Melissa Rauch with all the subtlety of a power tool left to buzz on a stone floor, Hope Gregory is a former Olympic gymnast who took the bronze medal in a long-ago Games with a Kerri Strug-like miracle on an injured ankle. But cast back into the obscurity of her life in Amherst, Ohio, she has devolved into a tyrranical, pill-snorting monster who steals from her mail-carrier father and has nothing but spite and derision for every person she encounters.

IIt’s no wonder that her supporting cast is all sycophants and doormats, the only breed of human who would spend more than a few minutes around this entitled, misanthropic, manipulative mess who is running out of ways to exist by simply being horrible.

When all hope (Hope, see what they did there?) seems lost, her estranged coach dies and promises a hefty inheritance — only if she can pull it together and coach the protégé she left behind (Haley Lu Richardson). Faced with swallowing her malignant pride or go broke, Hope is forced to make a move.

It’s just not the one you think, and that’s often the case with The Bronze, which defies expectations and is loaded with genuinely gut-busting lines, rowdy raunch and the best sex sequence of this or any era. It’s really as good as everyone will say it is. In fact, that sex scene may singlehandedly sell this movie, just as The Bronze may re-launch Sebastian Stan (Captain America: The Winter Soldier) as both a comedic actor and an old-school male sex symbol.

There is a faint, plucky heart beating somewhere in The Bronze, and a few positively breathtaking cinematic moments — director Bryan Buckley (known thus far for Super Bowl commercials) builds sustained sequences that punch above this movie’s weight. But time after time, the moment you’re ready to be on board, Hope crushes them as flat as her “Midwestern” accent.

And uff da, those aaaaccents.

Buckley, whose surfer archetype comes by way of Sudbury, Massachusetts, and Rauch, who hails from Marlboro Township, New Jersey, somehow got the idea that people in the Lake Erie town of Amherst, roughly halfway between Toledo and Cleveland, talk like Saturday Night Live players doing their first sketch set in the Extremely Upper Midwest. They are absurd, cartoonish and beyond grating — to the point of causing actual ear discomfort — and the simpleton ways of their bearers borders on mean-spirited mocking of middle America.

The Bronze takes a lot of chances, and sticks several routines. There are entire sequences that border on brilliant, dialogue that is edgy even by Sundance standards, and with a character who, for better or worse, will be a hero — err, unapologetically severe antihero — to many. Rauch (pictured above, with co-writer and husband Winston Rauch) certainly answered the call for a female character with flaws.

Though … hotel-room sex is not one of them. That scene was a perfect 10.