Everything's SFNE

A Sign of the Times

2008-12-24T15:43:00.000-08:00

I'm SO sorry I didn't grab a picture of the Burlington Mall marquee today. (It could because I was driving.) Anyway, the marquee--a very valuable space to mall tenants, because of the drive-by factor--reminded folks that there was still time to pick up (wait for it...) Chick-Fil-A gift cards!

Don't get me wrong. I like Chick-Fil-A low-cal lemonade and...well, that's about it. But my son likes them. Anyway, my point is that I've never forgotten something from a job running a retail-oriented print shop years ago in Virginia. We were in a small, but busy, shopping center. My boss explained to me that we only got the right to put up an ad on the shopping center marquee a couple of times a year (all his lease allowed without paying extra) and that we had to be very careful what we advertised. Good way to bring in new customers or remind old customers that we were still there for their letterhead/business card/copying needs.

So. It's Xmas week. You have a mall with a Nordstrom, a Lord & Taylor, a Williams-Sonoma, an Abercrombie & Fitch, etc., etc. And what does the valuable marquee space advertise? Gift cards for fast-food chicken sandwiches.

Which, sadly, probably fits a lot of budgets better now than Nordstrom, Lord & Taylor, Williams-Sonoma, or Abercrombie & Fitch.

Happy holidays to all--may your power stay on so your day can be merry and bright!

The Hot Spot on a Cold Night

2008-12-17T10:19:00.001-08:00

It was freakin' cold last night. Not "stop-the-world" cold--more like "oh-my-it's-finally-winter-I-don't-think-I'm-dressed-properly" cold. So The Boy and I met my husband in Lexington town center (he had just biked in from Cambridge, studded snow tires and all). It seemed like a night for soup, so we hit Lemon Grass. Then, despite the cold, we thought we'd round out the evening with a quick stop at Rancatore's, down the block. Because any time is the right time for ice cream.

Apparently we weren't the only ones who thought that IC was the perfect accompaniment to the frigid night air--the place was packed. Tables were at a premium. Kids plopped themselves down at the counter while teens stood around, eating cones and sundaes. After we finished, instead of lingering, I gave up our table to a mom struggling with two kids (one in a stroller and one in the coolest winter coat EVER--like Hello Kitty, but much, much better).

At first I was baffled. I mean, really--I will eat good ice cream anytime (emphasis on good). But Ranc's was overflowing, not just feeding the jones of a single family. In fact you wonder, if there had snow on the ground, like today, would the line have stretched down the block? Is the line stretching down the block as I type this?

Then I realized something: Maybe matching the season with the food is a classic American (or at least New England) tradition. Ice cream in winter. Barbeque in summer. That must be it.

(Or it could be that Starbucks and Peets had just closed, and people needed a place to hang. But I like my first explanation better.)

Revenge of the Facebook Page

2008-12-15T20:13:00.000-08:00

So, I was looking at the "friends you may know" list for my high school graduation year on Facebook. One of the listed was someone I've hated, I mean HATED, since junior high. I'm sure he doesn't remember me, but I sure remember him. (I don't hate many people, btw--this was a very memorable guy for me.)

And guess what? He's lost that whole head of hair he used to have (granted, back when he was 14). Now I don't really care about that--in fact, I think a guy who rocks the bald look can be pretty attractive (yes, I'm talking about you, Michael Chiklis of Lowell and Andover, Mass!). But really, can't a girl have a few petty thoughts? What's a little "Ha!" between classmates, right?

P.S. I did not send a friend invite.

Knowing That This Isn't the Place

2008-12-05T14:03:00.000-08:00

So, we were at the movies last week seeing, yes, Twilight (which didn't suck, really, and if I were still 14 I'd be all over it). We saw a trailer for an upcoming Nic Cage movie called Knowing. Never heard of it. But it piqued my interest that it supposedly opens in Lexington (Mass.) in 1959. As a current resident, I know for a fact that Nic Cage didn't shoot a movie anywhere near my house in the last two years.

Then, in the "now" part of the movie--which has something to do with a buried time capsule, a secret coded page that predicts future disasters, patterns underlying EVERYthing in the universe, yadda yadda--the action moves to "Logan Airport." And I know for a fact that Nic Cage didn't shoot a movie in Boston in the last two years, either. At least not this one.

And based on the trailer (which my husband promptly dubbed "lame looking"--he's a mathematician, and it really bugs him when movies center on how EVERYthing has to do with patterns, no room for randomness), Lexington doesn't seem to have anything to do with it. Or Boston, really. So--where filmed? Melbourne, Australia.

Melbourne, Boston. Boston, Melbourne. Yup--I get those two mixed up all the time, don't you? For one thing, we all say "bee-yah" instead of "beer," right?

(On the plus side, the director, Alex Proyas, made Dark City, one of the best movies ever. Knowing still looks pretty lame, though.)

The Mysterious Disappearance and Return of the Obama Sign

2008-12-04T11:10:00.000-08:00

Back before the primaries, my hubby and I put an Obama sign on our lawn. It stayed--proudly showing our hope for change to all and sundry driving down our street--for about 2 1/2 months. Then, one day toward the end of March, it just up and disappeared. Gone. At first we thought it got dragged down the road by an errant snowplow, but after searching, it was nowhere to be found. We were a little sad--we'd wanted the souvenir (we still have stuff from Clinton in '92, for god's sake), but life moved on.

When we read all those stories about lawn signs being stolen (from both parties), we figured that's what had happened to us. And in fact, given how in-the-tank my town was/is for Obama, it makes sense now that I saw very few Obama signs anywhere (only the large, too-hard-to-steal ones). I did see a good handful of McCain/Palin signs, even though I never met a supporter of theirs at the local PTA meeting or down at Peet's Coffee. Were we Obamaniacs all victims of rampant sign theft?

Fast forward many months, after the election. Last week, out of the blue, what should turn up on our front steps but the sign? No question that it was ours (it was an early-edition sign, fairly straightforward, no Biden, etc.). No note. No "I'm sorry." Just back in all it's (slightly wrinkled) glory. My husband took it inside the house and put it in our curio cabinet, where we keep our one-of-a-kind precious memories.

What brought you back, sign? A fit of remorse? A desire to change, along with the government? A realization that having a stack of your neighbors' political signs makes you out of step in these "can't we all just get along?" times? (Downright creepy, actually.)

Whatever the reason, I'm glad you did. Thanks--but next time, get your own sign, please.

Note: I found this photo on the website, Embrace Adventure. I didn't have a chance to photograph my own sign in the spring, because I didn't know someone was going to STEAL IT.

Now That the Election Is Over

2008-11-26T08:56:00.000-08:00

Now that the election is over and the good guys won and the transition has started and I'm not all-consumed with polls and pols, I'm really going to try and blog some more. I have at least two (maybe three!) people who apparently want to keep reading me (now that the election is over and they have more time on their hands), so I'm going to give it a shot.

I'm Back, and Broker than Ever!

2008-05-12T18:40:00.000-07:00

Yes, I've been too busy to blog. I was going to say "so sue me," but someone might decide to take me up on the dare. Well, the joke's on you! Because tonight I'm picking up my 2002 Subaru Outback with its brand-new rear struts--an $1100 hit. And that's standard maintenance, folks! If you sue me, there won't be much to get. (I'm going on the assumption that retirement accounts are off limits. Right? Riii-ght?)

On the other hand, the car will probably stop making that disturbing creaking sound as it scrapes the pavement, so I still think we made the right decision.

Come Home, John Adams, We Miss You!

2008-03-14T12:50:00.000-07:00

I'm really looking forward to HBO's John Adams, which starts Sunday night. It's getting rave reviews, stars wonderful actors (Laura Linney as Abigail!), and shines a light on a man whose PR was never as good as Jefferson's.

Too bad it was shot in Virginia (my home state, yes, but not my adopted home and certainly not Adams'). I've whined about this before, but what with the premiere coming up, it seemed like a good idea to do it again. Fortunately, things are looking up for our commonwealth, what with all the movies now being shot in Massachusetts because of incentives like this (and those plans for a film and television complex in Weymouth). Maybe all this means we'll be the location for Tall Tom Jefferson: Well, I Declare! That would be fair, as in "turnabout's fair play."

(Oh--and don't bother looking for that show on IMDB.com--I made it up. Just daydreamin'.)

Why I Love Keith Olbermann

2008-03-13T12:54:00.000-07:00

Because when he's mad, he's just better than any other commentator out there. Even if you're a Clinton supporter, this Ferraro situation has been maddening, and no one sums up the whole frustrating, wrongheaded mishegoss like Keith.

Take 10 minutes to watch the whole thing, then appreciate his "good night and good luck" sign-off. Edward R. Murrow would be proud of you Keith. I know I am.

And While You're Voting...

2008-02-05T07:51:00.001-08:00

it would be more than excellent if you voted for Barack Obama.

This Is It, People--Make Your Vote Count!

2008-02-05T07:26:00.000-08:00

Let's face it--Massachusetts will certainly vote Democratic in the general election. We may never see a candidate in these parts again until 2012. But today you can really be heard--we're in play, and it feels so good! (Especially after Sunday night.)

So go vote--or keep your complaints to yourself.

So Much Going On--So Little Time to Write

2008-01-22T12:12:00.000-08:00

Once again, so busy. And so much stuff going on to write about! For instance, before the New Hampshire primaries, we went up to see the candidates speak: Obama, Clinton, and Richardson. Democracy in action, yo! Hope you all took the opportunity to hear one of our future leaders (well, not Richardson, we all know that now) speak in person.

We were even there in Nashua when Bill O'Reilly (AKA The Worst Person in the WORLD) tried to sandbag Obama but got turned back by security. Hope you were there too.

AND I met Diane Sawyer at the Red Arrow Diner (perhaps America's finest 24/7 diner, but I haven't surveyed them all personally). What a gracious, gracious woman. For those of you who are her fans--your allegiance is well-placed indeed.

And since then--more political news: Attempted voter suppression in Nevada! Sniping at the debates! Mitt the Mutt actually wins several delegates!

And skiing! And the Pats--oh, yes, the Pats. Sports excellence at its best, yo!

Kudos to My Home State!

2007-11-07T07:52:00.000-08:00

Way to go, Virginia! In the last two years, Dems took back the governorship and George ("Macaca") Allen's Senate seat. Now, the State Senate. Still to come: John Warner's Senate seat (certain to go to Democratic former governor, Mark Warner--no relation to John) and the state House of Reps.

Now my mom doesn't have to get into (as many) arguments with snippy clerks at the Virginia Beach Barnes & Noble about us sinful Blue Staters. It's clear the good folks of my former home are getting sick and tired of the state GOP and its intolerant ways. Thanks for hanging in there, Mom!

In the End, an Unsurprising Win

2007-11-04T19:31:00.000-08:00

Sure, there was some real suspense in today's Pats-Colts game. Mini-Superbowl and all that. Exciting to the end, especially when it seemed our penalties would do us in. Not either team's finest moment, really, but in the end Brady and the guys pulled it off. The last 10 minutes were tops.

But really--we know the real reason the Pats won. Besides the fact that we have the BEST quarterback and wide receiver (Randy Moss is AMAZING). It's because if the Colts lose, their coach gives them a lecture, then sends them home. If we lose, Bill B. gives the guys a lecture, then sends them out for a severe beating.

I don't know about you, but fear works just about every time.

The View from Above

2007-10-31T07:28:00.000-07:00

While waiting to see one of my docs at Charles River Plaza yesterday, who should come by but the Rolling Redsox Rally! Here are a few views from the 9th floor:
Not much detail, but you can sense some of the scope. Pretty cool.
Some of you who were there might even know which of the Sox were on this second one, but I only got the big picture, so to speak. So I call this photo "The Orange One."

BTW, riding my bike to the T at Alewife was definitely the way to go. The T garage was overfull, many roads were blocked off--even the T itself was so jammed that they let us on the trains for free because of the massive pileup at the Charlie Ticket machines. Nice gesture or just expediency? Does it even matter?

All around, a beautiful day for a parade.

A Lot of Love for the Glove

2007-10-30T07:27:00.000-07:00

In today's local paper, there's an amusing article about how Yankees' fans (i.e., New Yorkers) have no love for the Sox or Boston. Read it--you'll chuckle.

But what made me chuckle the most was the byline:

By Matt Viser, Glove Staff | October 30, 2007

So now it's the Boston Glove? Coooool! It's time someone recognized that fielding can be just as important as batting and pitching.

(Check it out before someone corrects it--you can fix your mistakes fast on the Web. Thank God.)

UPDATED: As suspected, they changed "Glove" to "Globe." Too bad in a way.

Rolling Rally Rolls Right Over My Plans

2007-10-29T12:34:00.000-07:00

So...I lined up two doctors' appointments back-to-back tomorrow at Mass General. Since I have to hike in from the 'burbs (time off work, traffic, etc), I try to be efficient. And then the mayor goes and announces that the Red Sox rolling rally will be tomorrow, exactly when I'm supposed to be on Cambridge St.

The mind mulls: Postpone the appointments? (It's not that easy to line up the schedule of two different offices.) Drive in and risk being barred from entering the streets I need to use? (Though they can't shut down the road in front of a big hospital, can they? Huh, huh?) Take the T down? (But by the time I need to leave for the T, parking will probably be long gone.)

I'm leaning toward biking to the T, like my hubby. You can always find a chainable location (unlike a car parking spot) and mash yourself onto a T car. It will take longer to ride to Alewife than drive, but will probably be better than trying to fight the traffic in the city itself. And if I get sweaty, I can bring an extra shirt to change into before my appointments.

Maybe I'll even get to see part of the rally between appointments (there's a little break in the middle). After all, it's Sox! In Duck Boats! What more could you want!

Hmmm...ride or cancel? I'm thinking those are my two best options right now. They posted the route on Boston.com, and it doesn't look promising for my usual drive in to MGH.

What to do, what to do?

Map courtesy of Boston.com

Can I Get a Woo? Can I Get a Hoo? Can I Get a Nap?

2007-10-29T07:47:00.000-07:00

Let's face it--you almost felt sorry for the Rockies, didn't you? But not sorry enough to dampen the joy of the series season. Victory is even sweeter the second time around.

A few last thoughts:

Someone get Francona on a long-term, fair-compensation contract, please! In fact, announcing it this week would be sweet.

Ditto, Mike Lowell.

How about my secret boyfriend, Jacoby Ellsbury, huh? What a player!

Who thought it was a good idea to build Coors Field like that, anyway?

How dare that Fox idiot Tim McCarver (sorry--no link for you!!) compare Dustin Pedroia's confidence and natural ebullience to Terrell Owens, a world-class jerk?

Speaking of which--I noticed that when it was clear that the Sox were going to win in the 8th inning, McCarver's co-announcer Joe Buck did all the talking (saying nice things about Boston and the Sox) while McCarver remained noticeably silent. But even McCarver couldn't spoil this for me.

A nap does sound nice about now, but work beckons.

Shall we meet next year, same time? Sounds like fun to me.

Since You Asked...

2007-10-25T12:09:00.001-07:00

I've had at least two people ask me, "So, will you be rooting for BC or Virginia Tech in tonight's game?"

This one is a no-brainer for me: I may love my life as a new-ish New Englander (6 years now) and I may love the Sox and the Pats, but people, it's simple. You never, never diss the beloved alma mater.

On the other hand, wouldn't a game between actual eagles and gobblers be cool? The feathers would fly!!

Hokie, Hokie, Hokie Hi!!

Oh...and GO SOX!!

Too Freakin' Busy to Blog

2007-10-23T07:42:00.000-07:00

Between work (my boss quit!), school volunteering (more than I probably should have said yes to), home (will the clutter never cease?), trying to make some time for exercise (biking while the iron is hot!), and the Sox, the Sox, the Sox, it's just been too much. I haven't even been reading other people's blogs, much less writing my own.

But I'll be back--at least if you want me. :-)

Darwinian Test on the Bike Path

2007-09-14T18:50:00.000-07:00

Wednesday night, after a delicious meal with friends at Uncle Pete's--he has real Texas-style burnt ends now!!--our friend dropped my husband off in Arlington Heights. Jim had ridden his newer bike home earlier in the day after picking it up from Quad Cycles (broken spoke repair), so he'd left Frankenbike chained to a post. (Frankenbike is composed of many parts from two different bikes, hence the name.) It was about 9:30, and I expected him home in about 20 minutes.

Instead, he showed up almost a full hour later. I hadn't been too worried, since I knew he had his phone, but I was beginning to wonder. He finally came in at 10:30, so I asked where he'd been.

"I was leading some bikers down the Minuteman," he said.

"What?" I said, in my uniquely eloquent way.

"I was riding on the trail and nearly ran into two idiots who were stumbling around on the path with their bikes and no lights. They literally couldn't see the trail. So I offered to ride in front of them--slowly--so they could follow me to Lexington."

(If you've ever been on the Minuteman Trail, you might remember that it has no street--trail?--lamps and a lot of dense foliage surrounds it, which blocks out any ambient light as well.)

"But it was past 9:30--it's not like it JUST got dark--they had to know it would be too dark to ride without lights," I said.

"Whatever," he shrugged. "I guess I could have left them out there in the dark, but it wasn't safe. And going out on Mass Ave. without lights would probably be worse for them. As a driver, I don't like being on the road with bikers who don't know what they're doing."

That's what we call a "Darwinian Test" in our family--as in, these people should think twice before spawning.

Ah, what the hell--we all screw up sometimes. And at least I can say my nice-guy husband led two strangers to Lexington Town Center where they could safely walk their bikes the rest of the way. One day, he might need some help, too. I'm not sure if that gains you Darwinian points, but I think it raises your Karma score.

Goodbye to the Smartest Birdbrain in the World

2007-09-11T20:37:00.000-07:00

Those of us who love birds--especially parrots--can't help but mourn the passing of Alex, the amazing African Grey, who died last week at the age of 31. His death was unexpected--so much so that the news wasn't released until yesterday, because the staff at the Brandeis University research lab where Alex lived were too upset to report his death immediately.

Irene Pepperberg, the scientist who owned Alex--purchased at a pet store, his name was an acronym for Avian Learning Experiment--worked with the parrot for three decades. According to the Alex Foundation's press release,

Dr. Pepperberg’s pioneering research resulted in Alex learning elements of English speech to identify 50 different objects, 7 colors, 5 shapes, quantities up to and including 6 and a zero-like concept. He used phrases such as “I want X” and “Wanna go Y”, where X and Y were appropriate object and location labels. He acquired concepts of categories, bigger and smaller, same-different, and absence. Alex combined his labels to identify, request, refuse, and categorize more than 100 different items demonstrating a level and scope of cognitive abilities never expected in an avian species. Pepperberg says that Alex showed the emotional equivalent of a 2 year-old child and intellectual equivalent of a 5 year-old. Her research with Alex shattered the generally held notion that parrots are only capable of mindless vocal mimicry.

My husband and I have owned many parrots over the last 20 years, and each one possessed an individual personality (though many of them did seem like typical "bird brains"). Our current pet, a miniature macaw, doesn't talk like Alex did, but he's taken the art of laughing to a new level. (Really--parrots will laugh along with you, though I'm not sure they actually get the joke.)

A necropsy (animal autopsy) showed no immediate cause of Alex's death, and he'd appeared healthy at a check-up days before. In true parrot fashion, he probably had been sick for a while, but hid his weakness before just keeling over. (Showing weakness in the wild is an open invitation for parrot predators to attack.) So in the end there was probably nothing that the people who worked with--and loved--him could have done.

Alex spent his life at a variety of universities with Dr. Pepperberg; Brandeis was his last home. As a New Englander, I'm proud that he lived among us for the last several years. And although he was only 31--some African Greys live to be 50--Alex had a good run, taught us a lot, and gained the admiration and affection of plenty of us who never had the good fortune to offer him a treat.

Farewell, Alex--the bird (and human) world will miss you.

%^&*#$@^ Yankees!

2007-08-17T17:31:00.000-07:00

Okay, okay, I promised I'd write something about my vacation, but first this from The Onion (PROFANITY WARNING!)

BOSTON—Moments after the New York Yankees continued a month-long stretch that has seen them climb from the bottom of the AL East to pull within a once unfathomable four games of the first-place Red Sox by defeating the Baltimore Orioles Monday night, stunned and enraged baseball fans across America took a moment to shake their heads in disbelief and curse dejectedly at the relentless inevitability of Yankee glory.

"Fucking Yankees," said Marshfield, MA resident and longtime Red Sox fan Lawrence Broberg, echoing the sentiments of thousands of men and woman across the nation. "Every year. Every goddamn year."

You must read the whole thing to get the full effect.

Let's just hope that for once, The Onion is wrong. But those guys are usually right. (Let's not forget the famous Voice of God Revealed to Be Cheney on Intercom--they were so on the mark with that one....)

Many thanks to Russ for the link.

Back and Two Pounds Lighter!

2007-08-08T07:39:00.000-07:00

I've been away for two weeks in Canada, but we're back. No time this a.m. for the full report, but I'm proud to say that after spending an entire week biking (no car!) on Quebec's Iles de la Madeleines, then trailer-camping on Prince Edward Island (where we left the van and camper near the island ferry), I came back tanned and lighter.

Okay, two pounds may not be much to you, but it's an achievement in a land (specifically, P.E.I), where EVERY MEAL COMES WITH FRENCH FRIES. They're really into potatoes on P.E.I.

Anyway, the trip was lovely--more soon, I promise.

Brief Yet Disturbing Moment of Bigotry

2007-07-14T19:06:00.000-07:00

I was eating a late lunch with my husband and the Boy at my local Chili's today. As I went to the restroom to try to rinse out a stain (some Skillet Queso--yum), which had most inconveniently landed on the only white section of my otherwise black blouse, I heard someone in a stall speaking in a foreign language (Portuguese, I'd guess). Presumably on a cell phone (otherwise there are other issues going on here too deep to contemplate).

After an only partly fruitful attempt at destaining my shirt, I decided to avail myself of the faciities, too. I went into another stall, then heard a third person enter. A moment later, I heard someone mutter the word, "English." Meanwhile, the first person continued her phone conversation.

Huh, I thought to myself. (I'm especially eloquent within my mind at such moments.)

Then, I heard the mutterer flush, leave her stall, and say, loudly and clearly, "Speak English, damn it! You're in America! SPEAK ENGLISH!" She then left, because by the time I was finished, she was gone. The cell phone talker also finished and left\ without replying.

When I got out to the sinks, I was alone. And I was sorry, because I wanted to confront the Mutterer-turned-Complainer. "What is the problem?" I wanted to say. "She wasn't talking to you--she was having a private conversation. For all you know, she was a tourist. And besides, even immigrants have the right to speak their own language to themselves, for God's sake! Did YOUR family give up all [insert language here] when they were newcomers? WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM?!"

But I couldn't, so I didn't. And maybe I'd have looked M-turned-C in the eyes and backed away, scared. Because her voice--so pointlessly rude and mean--didn't carry the sound of reason.

Maybe If the Town Hosted the Doughnut Hall of Fame Instead...

2007-07-11T07:14:00.000-07:00

Well, the results are in: Our neighbor to the northwest, Springfield, VT, will host the official premiere of The Simpsons Movie, beating out our own Springfield, MA. But at least it's still going to be an SNFE premiere, and I, for one, can't wait. (We're big Simpsons fans in my household.)

From today's Globe (scroll down past the snit between environmentalist Laurie David and her neighbors):

D'oh! Springfield, Mass., won't be hosting the official premiere of "The Simpsons Movie." Instead, the honor goes to Springfield, Vt. -- population 9,300 -- thanks to a short video about Homer Simpson chasing a giant, rolling doughnut through town. Fourteen cities named Springfield (home of TV's favorite animated family) posted 5-minute films on USA Today's website, and the public voted for the winner over the past week. "I almost drove off the road when I heard," said Vermont television producer Tim Kavanagh, who played Homer.

Springfield, Mass., placed fourth with 11,442 votes, behind Vermont, Oregon, and Illinois. "If it had to be anyone else, I'm glad it was Vermont," said David Horgan, director of the Massachusetts video. "The smallest state -- the one that everyone thought had no chance -- won it all." Each participating Springfield will host its own premiere on July 26, but Vermont gets first dibs on July 21. "We've never hosted a movie premiere, but we're ecstatic," said Patricia Chaffee of the Springfield, Vt., Chamber of Commerce.

I guess in the end, having Hoop Hall wasn't quite enough to put the Massachusetts Springfield over the top (athletics were never a big draw for Homer). But considering we came in 4th out of 13, I think I'll be happy with that old Hollywood standby: It's an honor just to be nominated.

Live it up, Springfielders, wherever you are! (Or Springfieldaweenians, as my husband would say.)

Isn't It a Bit Early for This?

2007-07-09T12:57:00.000-07:00

Yes, yes, I know they're still leading their division--by a lot. Yes, yes, I know all it takes is for the batters to get hot again. I know all that. And maybe I'm being too picky, but isn't the collapse supposed to come after the All-Star break?

Sometimes procrastination is a good thing. In fact, sometimes certain things don't need to happen at all. Or maybe I'm looking at it the wrong way--they collapse now, then pick up again in August. That's the ticket!

(Sometimes even the cockeyed optimists of the world need a little boost.)

Beauty Revisited

2007-07-07T19:40:00.000-07:00

After Wednesday's rainout, we took a chance--despite occasionally threatening skies again--and headed back to Marblehead for their belated Independence Day celebration. We took our seats at the edge of the peninsula and waited, looking hopefully toward the fireworks barge at the mouth of the harbor.

A camera-phone photo can't really do justice to the outstanding show the good people of the town put on for us. And words can't really do justice to the beauty of the evening--the harbor illumination, the red, green, blue, and gold explosions, the shimmering reflections on the water.

So I'll use one word: Spectacular.

Hot Dogs and Beauty

2007-07-05T12:51:00.000-07:00

Well, we tried to watch the Marblehead fireworks last night...

We drove to Marblehead, thinking we'd park, then ride our bikes to Salem and eat hot dogs, but the skies were threatening. I suggested we instead drive to Salem, scarf dogs, and come back. Good plan, as the rain began falling. But weather be damned! If you like hot dogs--the good kind with the toasted buns and all kinds of toppings--get yourself to the Boston Hot Dog Company (yes, they're only in Salem, but why quibble?) and enjoy. Southern slaw dogs (chili and cole slaw)--yowza!

We returned to Marblehead and hauled our folding chairs a half-mile to Chandler Hovey Park, where we sat patiently in our thank-goodness-my-husband-packed-them rain ponchos, looking out at the fireworks barge in the water as the rain fell. The view was lovely--boats in the harbor bobbing in the inlet--and we were comfy and dry. I had a moment of sheer happiness at being with my famiy, enjoying the view, keeping warm.

At 8:15, some nice police officers walked through the park announcing that the fireworks company had called it on account of the weather--come back this Friday and try again. (We probably will.)

As we drove home, fireworks were going off in all directions from other towns that hadn't cancelled or postponed, so we still got a bit of a show.

All in all, a lovely evening.

Now I Know What Everyone Does Early in the Day on the 4th

2007-07-04T15:00:00.000-07:00

They go to the movies. Transformers to be exact. The theater in Lowell (nice stadium seating) was packed. Apparently people (including us) need a place to hang out when they (a) don't go to work and (b) don't want to head out to see fireworks 7 hours early.

And actually, it wasn't half bad. Could have sucked, but I enjoyed it. Despite being a Michael "Pearl Harbor" Bay movie, which proves that there are second acts in American lives--very fitting for the Fourth.

Beverly Sills: Cheerful to the End

2007-07-04T07:42:00.000-07:00

Though I'm not the world's biggest opera fan (I used to attend the Virginia Opera regularly with my mother during my teens, but not much since then), I was a big fan of Beverly Sills, who died this week. In one of the many ironies of her life, she had lung cancer--though she never smoked.

People have all kinds of role models in their lives, and she was one of mine. Not so much for her musical ability--few of us could hope to compete in that area--but in how she lived her life: with style, with kindness, with grace. As her obits point out, other opera singers of her era had nicknames like "la Stupenda" -- Beverly was called "Bubbles."

She managed to have a great career, both as a performer and an arts administrator, while always being herself--which was a damn fine thing to be. She spent important parts of her career in the Boston area and was a leading light of Sarah Caldwell's Opera Company of Boston. Her husband, Peter Greenough (who died last year) was a financial columnist for the Globe during the 1960s.

Though she had by all accounts a happy marriage, her children were born with physical and mental disabilities, including a daughter who is deaf:
It was an ironic trick of the gods to give me a daughter who couldn't hear me sing," Ms. Sills said on a PBS special last year devoted to her career, Beverly Sills: Made in America. "It affected my singing. The best times I had were moments on stage. To be able to pretend to be somebody else for three hours was such a relief.
Here's where the role model stuff comes in. I'm a naturally upbeat person, but sometimes you just have to push through on attitude, like Beverly Sills. Whenever I'm down, physically or emotionally, and feel like being catty or snippy or just plain cranky, I try to remember what she famously said many years ago (and thanks to my mother for first introducing me to this quote):

I'm not happy, I'm cheerful. There's a difference. A happy woman has no cares at all. A cheerful woman has cares but has learned how to deal with them.

I learned a lot about perspective from Beverly Sills and about how you treat the people around you even when things aren't going great for you. For me, that's a legacy that will last as long as memories of her beautiful voice. Wherever she is now, I hope she's not just cheerful, but happy, too.

Photo by Joseph Sinnott from the Concise Encyclopedia Britannica.

Awesome Beach, Hilly Ride

2007-07-02T06:26:00.000-07:00

There are few beaches in New England as beautiful as Wingaersheek in Gloucester, but also few with as small a parking lot (also, there's between a $15 and $25 charge, depending on the day). So my hubby announced: "We'll park behind the police station in Essex and ride our bikes to the beach. It should be about 5 miles, mostly flat. It's at sea level, after all."

Well, we did park behind the police station easily--check. No trouble getting onto the beach at Wingaersheek on a bike--check. As for the other parts: Ummm...not flat and the winding roads make the route definitely more than five miles to the beach. Beautiful place to ride--salt marshes, nice houses. And an equally nice place to push your bike up a hill because it's the sixth hill in a row and your panniers are full and you just need the break (although pushing a bike up a hill is no picnic either).

Nevertheless, thanks to a restorative break at the beach concession stand (very reasonable prices and delicious fruit cups at this time of year) and some water and sand, we felt refreshed. Really--this beach is spectacular, all Edward Hopper-y with a lighthouse in the background and all. And in the end, despite an offer from Jim to pick me up in our van, we all (hubby, The Boy, and me) made it back to the Essex P.D. intact--and a little more fit for the effort. In fact, I blazed through the last two miles on Rt. 133 (we came back a different way) as though I'd gotten some sort of second wind. So I guess I'd do it again.

But next time, I'm getting a topo map first.

To All the Umbrellas in My Life

2007-06-21T06:51:00.000-07:00

I rarely write about music, although music plays a big part in my life (as I'm sure it does in most people's lives, except my darling husband, whose brain can't really process rhythmic things, but that's for another post). In any case, I've become sort of entranced by Rihanna's hit song "Umbrella," and not only because I saw her last year at Mix-Fest and the poor thing had a terrible cold or flu but performed gamely anyway.

People (as in music critics) are calling this the "song of the summer," but what's really interesting about it is that, unlike most "summer songs," it's not upbeat, really, though it's hopeful:

Now that it's raining more than ever
Know that we still have each other
You can stand under my umbrella
You can stand under my umbrella

When she says "it's raining more than ever" she's not talking about the good days, she's talking about helping her loved one through the rough times.

I like to think that's what a good relationship, marriage--heck, even parenting--is about. Being the umbrella. I've got your back, babe. The ones I've seen go wrong (marriages, friendships)--you could see it coming. One person didn't have the other's back. No one was willing to be the umbrella. It's a two-way street, but not always at the same time--you have to take turns holding back the rain.

I think this song has been on my mind because of a few things: I just celebrated my 23rd anniversary to the man who's always been my umbrella. My brother has moved back home to Virginia to help out our mom, who's had some health problems lately (and, I'll add, my mom has been the umbrella to many, many people in this life). I just got back in touch with an old friend, which reminds me yet again that we need friends as well as family to shelter us.

And now that I've written this, maybe I can get the song out of my head for a while. But I kind of doubt it.

When Will the Nuttiness End?

2007-06-15T06:39:00.000-07:00

First, it was crazed chihuahuas in Florida--now, fearsome squirrels in Berlin. Fortunately, the rampage ended when plucky retiree Guenther Mittelbaum put a stop to it with his crutch.

This brings back painful (yet hysterically funny) memories for my family: My husband was brutally stalked last year on the Boston Common by a pack of squirrels determined to get his Au Bon Pain cinnamon roll. One even jumped on his shoulder in an effort to nab some carby goodness. Can't a person snack safely anymore? And where was the old guy with the crutch when we needed him?

(And check out this bit of weirdness from the UK's most wonderful website, Metro--don't miss the gun-wielding rodent at the bottom of the page.)

Doing the (Civil) Right(s) Thing in Massachusetts

2007-06-14T17:29:00.000-07:00

I am truly proud to be a citizen of this great commonwealth today. Thanks to the legislators who agreed with so many of us that civil rights are for everyone, and thanks to all of my fellow Bay Staters who voted those legislators into office. Note, too, that this was based on a true vote, not on any special delaying tactics--this was the real deal.

Aside from the wonderful facts of the matter, this is a relief in another way: People can get back to living their lives without the specter of a year or more worth of out-of-state hate-mongering, trying to sway our good-hearted people. (And I do believe most of our citizens are good-hearted.) I've heard the hate at the State House (mostly from classic "outside agitators") and the thought of being subjected to that until the election was unbearable.

So--thanks. From my heart.

(A quick shout-out to everyone at MassEquality and my honey, The BSG, AKA Big Straight Guy, who worked so hard for this. Way to go!)

Photo courtesy of Boston.com

For Lexingtonians, VOTE TODAY!!!

2007-06-05T07:46:00.000-07:00

Today is the big one--will we maintain our great schools and have decent facilities for our town employees or will we choke?

Let me make a suggestion--don't choke. Vote YES today! Polls are open now. Go--vote YES.

Anyone Biked on P.E.I. or the Iles de la Madeleine?

2007-05-29T07:52:00.000-07:00

We're planning a cycling trip (a combination of trailer camping and B&B stays) on Prince Edward Island and the Iles de la Madeleine (which you get to by taking a 5-hour ferry ride out into the Gulf of St. Lawrence from a port in P.E.I). We've been to P.E.I (by car) but never the islands, so there's a certain amount of "chicken trip" going on. Our plan is to leave our van at the ferry dock when we arrive and do the rest of the tour with minimal packs (with nice meals and soft beds awaiting us at a variety of inns and B&Bs, eh hem). Not exactly roughing it, but without the security of a warm car if it rains between stops.

Both have reputations as great touring destination for bikers. If you have any stories to tell, accommodations to recommend, or must-see-sights for our trip, we'd love to hear 'em.

Note: That's not my family there, but that's a genuine photo of biking on the Iles de la Madeleine. Thanks to the Tourism Bureau of Iles de la Madeleine for the photo.

New Asian Restaurant in Arlington

2007-05-29T07:22:00.000-07:00

On Sunday, we rode from Lexington to Arlington (on bikes! still getting in shape!). We thought we'd have dinner. And although we're still missing Viet's Cafe (great bowls of pho and noodles--a particular favorite of my visiting parents), we were not disappointed by the new Chinese-Japanese restaurant that's taken the cafe's old space.

It's called Mifune (which would seem to give Japanese food pride of place, Toshiro Mifune being one of Japan's most celebrated actors). But both sides of the extensive menu are worth trying. My grilled salmon with ginger and scallion sauce (a Chinese entree) was tasty and well-prepared, arriving beautifully presented with orchid buds decorating the plate, while my sushi order of a tuna and avocado roll was delicious. My husband and son gave the ol' thumbs up to their crispy aromatic beef and pan fried noodles, as well as their individual sushi orders. The hot-and-sour soup--so useful for my still-suffering sinuses--held its own against the many versions I've had in my life.

The renovated space is brighter and bigger--they knocked down the wall that used to provide a separate seating area at Viet's--and upgraded the restrooms. Service was attentive but not hovering, and the presention of the food, as I mentioned, quite elegant. (As a bonus, if you get there this week by May 31, all meals are 20 percent off as a pre-grand-opening special, but that's just gravy.)

Despite the oddness of the pairing of cuisines--Japan and China have a terrible shared history going back hundreds of years and you might not think it's a natural combination--you see these kinds of restaurants popping up everywhere. And I like many of them: Bamboo in Burlington, Sato in Waltham (my husband's favorite). Mifune more than holds its own and is conveniently located a few hundred yards off the Minuteman Bike Trail in Arlington Center. We'll definitely be back. (Still riding! Still getting fit!)

Just One Day

2007-05-25T17:16:00.000-07:00

Interesting--the dynamic of the three-day weekend. Especially the first "official" three-dayer of the summer (and for once, we have the weather to prove it). My office was only half full today, the parking lot half empty. People off to out-of-town graduations or the first trip to the Cape, colleagues leaving early to beat the traffic or just relish the time a little more.

That one extra day carries a lot of weight. People grab onto the extra free time for dear life, piggy-backing vacation time to make it a four-day stint. Or they take a whole week, knowing that Monday is a freebie. I like my job a lot, and yet I'm looking forward to the realization on Sunday night that the next day isn't a work day, just like everyone else. Call it 24-hour power.

Of course, this only happens if you're lucky enough to have a standard office job--for folks in retail, at the movie theaters, and in food service, this is just another weekend, and in fact may mean extra work to handle the sales and the crowds. Remember that when you're catching a matinee of Shrek 3 on Monday afternoon and be a little nicer to the ticket taker.

We Get It--She Loves You!

2007-05-17T20:32:00.000-07:00

Tonight, as my son and I shared our traditional "Dad's out of town, so let's go to Dabin" dinner in Lexington, the man behind us used his cell phone. I have been guilty of that myself on rare occasions (though in my defense I usually walk outside to the sidewalk to talk). But this guy put his phone ON SPEAKER MODE.

I got to hear how he was out with a friend, having a good time, he missed his wife--the usual side of the conversation. But thanks to the wonders of the speaker phone, we got to hear how much his wife loves him, how he should have a good time but not TOO good a time, etc. I couldn't tell if he was showing off for his dinner companion or the rest of us--maybe some of each.

I was impressed all right. I get it, buddy--you're a stud. Your wife loves you. We all heard it. Now put that thing away--we're tryin' ta eat here!

Three Years and Counting--and Yet the Sky Still Stands

2007-05-17T19:29:00.000-07:00

It's been three years since Bay Staters were granted equal marriage rights. That's three years of ... not much changing, except that the lives of some of our state's citizens were brought up to legal par with their fellow citizens.

I wrote about the first year anniversary of this momentous event back in 2005. What I wrote still stands (although now I'm approaching my 23rd year of marriage).

In fact, it turns out that in states where they allow civil unions, same-sex couples are starting to hold out for the Big M--Marriage. According to the New York Times, separate but not-quite-equal just doesn't cut it:

Charles Paragian, a dance instructor in Little Ferry who with his partner of 17 years adopted five children from foster care, called the civil union “bread crumbs” compared with same-sex marriage.

“I don’t want my children to learn to settle for anything,” said Mr. Paragian, 44. “It’s a Jim Crow law, it’s two separate water fountains, it’s not equal, we just don’t agree with it.”

Massachusetts is leading the way, so let's keep up the good work. Because when you take away civil rights--that's when the sky just might fall after all.

Alien Visitor

2007-05-16T12:42:00.000-07:00

I came home from work yesterday to find this guy on my front porch, waiting patiently for ... what? For me to let my parrot out of his cage? To let the guinea pigs run free?

Just look at that face and those eyes. Pretty intimidating.

"Oh, Warriors, come out and plaaaaay...."

WMD* Revealed!

2007-05-13T06:16:00.000-07:00

Happy Mothers' Day to all the moms, moms-in-law, moms-to-be, aunts, grandmothers, sisters, friends-who-are-like-a-mom-to-you, teachers-who-are-like-a-mom-to-you, that motherly lady at the Dunkin or the McD's drive-thru--and just to nice women in general. This may seem like just a greeting-card-and-restaurant holiday, but it's still worthwhile stepping back and thanking all the lovely women in our lives. (Men--you get your chance next month.)

Thanks, too, to all the kids and former kids (e.g., grownups) who helped make us moms, moms-in-law, etc.

And a tip of the hat to my brother, the amazing J., for two kick-ass Mothers' Day cards, including one that plays the theme from The Addams Family when you open it. Coooool. (And after all, wasn't Morticia Addams one of the most glamorous yet loving moms EVER?) So--thanks, Bro!

*Wishes for Mothers' Day.

Least SFNE TV Show Ever Renewed!

2007-05-11T11:39:00.001-07:00

The little show that could, Friday Night Lights, has been renewed by NBC, despite less-than-stellar ratings. Yay! Being the most critically acclaimed show of the year probably helped.

If you heard about this show but were fearful of getting attached to it, only to see it disappear, now's your chance. NBC has all the episodes online (and presumably there will be DVD set soon).

Fair warning, though: ONLY watch if you like shows with compelling characters, outstanding acting, and excellent writing. Plus, if you've ever lived out West (Texas in particular), you will nod your head in recognition during many scenes. And if you've never lived out West, but have ever been a teenager, parent, spouse, athlete, class geek, person struggling with a disability, caregiver, or car dealer, you'll nod your head in recognition during many scenes. Remember--I warned you.

Photo courtesy of NBC.com.

How Do They Do It?

2007-05-06T12:12:00.000-07:00

This photo from the Globe's online real estate section (excuse me--the luxury section) caught my eye. And okay, I get that this is a pricey condo--open floor plan, beautiful materials, no doubt great location. What I don't get is: How the heck do you keep a place like this clean and uncluttered? Where's the junk mail? Where are the school notices? What about the newspapers, magazines, and books, books, books?

Or is that just me?

It's Happening Again

2007-05-04T07:52:00.000-07:00

I'm beginning to care--really care. And I know my heart will be broken along with thousands--maybe millions--of others. We'll be in that swirl of heady intoxication all summer, only to be brought low in September. We know we shouldn't. And yet we do. And we wait for the inevitable, knowing that once in a very long time the inevitable doesn't happen.

So we hope. We hope. We hope.

Gilmore: A Beloved and SFNE Show Comes to the End

2007-05-03T18:15:00.000-07:00

It's sadly official: The CW announced the cancellation of Gilmore Girls. Although I only got hooked on the show about three years ago (because of scheduling reasons in the days before my second TiVo--yes, I watch a lot of TV), I avidly watch reruns and new episodes (hint: the older ones are better). In the end it was cancelled for that most prosaic of reasons--stalled contract negotiations.

Set in the magical, fictional Connecticut town of Stars Hollow (a distant suburb of Hartford--I said it was fictional), the show hooked millions of us on the relationship between the "girls"--single mother Lorelai and her precocious daughter Rory Gilmore--and their loves, friends, relatives, and fellow Stars Halloweenians. When you watch it--especially the earlier episodes--the dialogue flies funny and fast (think: His Girl Friday fast), with pop culture references that occasionally even flew over my head (and I'm very pop-conscious). You either get it or not, but if you get it, then you love it. (Ask my brother--I got him hooked, too.)

You know how when you watch one of those shows that's "set" in Boston (I'm talking to you, Ally McBeal!) that it might as well take place in Detroit? Despite being filmed in California (I visited the set once on a studio tour), Gilmore was totally SFNE. Granted, because it's supposed to be southern Connecticut, the accents are sort of northeastern bland, but there's the continuing thread of participatory democracy/town meetings (some of the funniest stuff), celebrations of the seasons (winter carnivals, harvest festivals, etc.), and continual references to Providence and Boston.

More evidence: Lorelai's dad is a king of the Hartford insurance world, and she runs a successful inn (ever since Newhart, one of the most SFNE of occupations). Heck, there was even a recommendation to eat at Barnacle Billy's in Ogunquit in a recent episode. And okay, Rory chose Yale over Harvard (and where were the good public schools in the mix, huh, huh?), it's still a New England school. I'm even guessing applications to Old Eli bumped up a tick after the idyllic portrayal of life at the school. (Minus two points on the SFNE Scale for never mentioning the Sox, though, or--god help us--those &^%#$@ Yankees.)

So goodbye, Lorelai, Rory, Luke, Emily, Richard, Lane, Zach, Sookie, Jackson, Mrs. Kim--even you, Kirk and Taylor. I'll miss you all--and a little bit of magical New England along with you. Let's hope you get a fitting farewell.

Photo courtesy of TVGuide.com.

Riding On Bikes with Boys

2007-04-30T12:45:00.000-07:00

Remember how great it felt as a kid to ride your bike everywhere? You could cruise around your neighborhood or head to the local convenience store for candy or hot chocolate. That used to be me, but not so much lately. "Lately" as in the last, oh, 12 years or so, thanks to some medical problems.

In the Boston area, which has a lot of serious bikers, including my friend Michele, I'm late to the party. Nevertheless, as part of my new "exercise or else" program (courtesy of my doctor), I've gotten back into cycling. My old bike (a Trek from the late '80s) is still in pretty good shape, but my husband bought me a new bike from LL Bean (a Schwinn, but with the ever-lovin' Bean lifetime warranty--woohoo!) to encourage me in my biking endeavors. And fortunately, you know what they say about riding a bike, and it's largely true, thank goodness. (The same is NOT true for roller skating, btw. You CAN forget how to skate.)

Jim has become a hardcore biker in the last several weeks, a change brought on by his desire to bike to his new job in Cambridge at least part of the way each day. (The rest being covered by T and feet.) Although he's still riding his old Trek (a less theft-worthy target at the T), we're talking fenders, lights, poncho, dry bag for his work clothes, baskets, a Kryptonite lock--the whole nine yards. In typical male fashion, if there's a gadget or attachment, he'll take it. For me, my main concern was a comfier saddle, so after testing out a few possibilities, I now have a nice wide seat (for my nice wide seat, heh). The better seat has made an "oh god I have to exercise" ordeal into a "hey, if we go out NOW we can beat the rain!" hobby.

So for the last few weeks, as the weather has warmed up, we've been trying to get out somewhere at least once a weekend (mainly the Minuteman Trail, AKA "America's Most Celebrated Bike Path," but also down near Plymouth), usually with our son. Yesterday, Jim and I (sans The Boy, who was occupied elsewhere with friends) rode to the Bedford Whole Foods (about 11 miles round trip). I have to admit, I'm proud of my generally out-of-shape self making the journey with only a couple of stops along the way. Partly it's because I've been exercising more, but I also give credit to the fact that I no longer try to climb elevations in third. Ain't gonna work, people--must. down. shift. (Growing up in one of the flattest places in America--Virginia Beach--doesn't make you an expert in using those 21 gears. Pretty much one gear will do down there.)

Of course, there's the whole, virtuous "I didn't take my car to the grocery store--I came by bike!" thing. Naturally, Jim burst my bubble by adding, "So of course we probably bought produce flown in on a jumbo jet from Chile." (To which I say, "Um...what's your point?")

I know this will sound corny, but after living in the Boston 'burbs for five years now, all of a sudden I'm literally seeing things I never saw before--meadows, woods, cool neighborhoods and old shacks, athletic fields--that you can't see unless you're on one of the trails. And in Lexington, there's a really good candy store, too. So I might be late to the party, but I'll be bringing great refreshments.

My 2nd Anniversary!

2007-04-27T07:33:00.000-07:00

Two years ago today I started this blog. Which of these suggestions should I treat myself to? Any and all suggestions welcome!

Oh, and thanks to those of you kind enough to read my musings--I couldn't have done it without you! (And for the number crunchers among us, this is my 355th post--wow.)

That Was My Dorm, Too

2007-04-22T18:21:00.000-07:00

This is not what I intended to write this week. I went to Virginia Beach with my son during the Massachusetts spring break to visit my parents and brother. I haven't been back in a few years. This post was supposed to be about how the weather wasn't great, but it was nice to see my family (close and extended, plus friends), eat cheap clams on the halfshell, fly kites on the beach, and finally get a good day on our last full day there (yesterday). That was all true.

But this wasn't a normal week of any kind. Many of you know that I attended Virginia Tech--a proud Hokie who still wears her college ring, more than two decades later. I met my husband there. I love the beautiful campus, love the school, loved my four years. What happened this week touched me very deeply--not just because of the sheer horror of it, but also because of the weird closeness to my own life. I lived for three years in West Ambler Johnston (first the third floor, then the fourth, where the first killings occurred). Norris Hall is where my husband--an engineering science and mechanics major--took many of his classes.

The terrible events that happened this week caused immense shock and grief for many more than just those with a direct connection to the school. The outpouring of support from across the country has been heartening. Thanks to all of you who paused a moment--or many moments--to remember the students and teachers who thought they were facing just another morning in class that day.

Soon, we'll get on with the business of debating gun control and dealing with mentally ill students and deciding whether or not the school administration handled the situation correctly and on and on.

But for now, I'll just remember--that was my dorm, too. That was my school, too. And it still is.

A Matter of Control in Manchester

2007-04-11T18:24:00.000-07:00

It's always the way: Just when you go to the bathroom, either the phone rings or someone knocks on your door. Or a guy decides he really needs to land his plane:

Two Southwest Airlines flights were forced to circle Manchester-Boston Regional Airport last Friday when the lone air traffic controller had to go to the bathroom.

Federal Aviation Administration officials said another controller was in the tower at the time but was not certified to land the planes, forcing flights from Chicago and Orlando, Fla., to delay their landings by 18 minutes. In addition, a medical flight carrying lungs to a New Jersey airport had its takeoff delayed by what FAA log books referred to as a bathroom break.

Jim Peters, an FAA spokesman, said that the controller followed proper protocols by waiting until traffic was light. Earlier in his shift, the controller handled 60 aircraft operations and put off a break until he had two planes in the air, which were placed in a holding pattern. (From Boston.com)

I know what you're thinking, but don't blame the controller. Note, in fact, that he held it as long as possible (and haven't we all done that at some point?). In fact, the article goes on to say that the real problem is a shortage of controllers, not this man's performance. (I personally think controllers are cool.)

I'm just grateful that when I slip out for a moment of, eh-hem, "me time," that it doesn't make the national news.

Deval and Ira: Separated at Birth?

2007-04-08T10:35:00.000-07:00

Maybe it's just me, but have you ever noticed how much Gov. Deval Patrick and NPR's Ira Glass (host of This American Life) sound alike on radio? Once you realize what they're talking about--Glass rarely, if ever, discusses state-wide healthcare for Massachusetts; Patrick rarely, if ever, talks about the allure of the mean friend (one of my favorite TAL eps)--you can tell them apart.

But for those first few seconds, I'm always caught off-guard. Must be the Chicago connection. (Yes, I know Glass wasn't born there--he's from Baltimore--but I also know from living out West for several years how you can adopt the native accent with little effort.) Maybe Glass should have the governor on his show and see if listeners have trouble telling them apart. They could call the episode "The Allure of the Vocal Doppelganger."

Buffy, Buffy, Buffy!

2007-03-25T14:27:00.000-07:00

Hard to believe, but Buffy the Vampire Slayer has been off the air since, what--2003? Yeesh. I'm not a total fanatic, but I do still love that show (and Angel, which was always somewhat underrated). Anyway, the reason I'm so excited is that Joss Whedon himself (master of the Buffyverse), has agreed to write the Season 8 that never appeared (after the cast and crew decided to go out on a high note--technically, the show wasn't cancelled as such) as a comic book series. Various artists will illustrate. And thanks to the limitless freedom (budget-wise, anyway) of the graphic format, Whedon has said he feels free to take the storyline in directions that he couldn't afford when the show was on the air.

I've ordered two copies each of the first four issues (you can't preorder more than that yet) from TFAW.com (that's Things from Another World, mail-order comics central). I'll have one copy to read, one to keep. (It only costs 25 cents apiece to bag them in plastic, so what the hell?) I just got my shipping notice for Issue #1, and I CANNOT WAIT!

If You Don't Want to Pay for Public Radio, I Have Another Reason

2007-03-24T12:22:00.000-07:00

Another fundraising drive on WBUR is finally over. I waited until the last couple of hours of this year's spring beg-a-thon to make my yearly donation. I always send money (god knows I listen to enough NPR), but I still hate those fundraising drives--how they disrupt the programming, how the announcers start to sound a little cranky near the end. (I've written about this before--I had the bright but unworkable idea of a secret, password protected second WBUR feed, just for people who had already sent money.)

Please people, if you listen to NPR in the Boston area, send WBUR something--$5 bucks a month, whatever--so they can cut back on future fundraising drives. But here's the thing: If you don't want to do it for public radio, do it for me.

That's right--me. My doctor has been on my case to reduce stress, exercise more, and in general, take better care of myself. If your donations can delay the next fundraising drive by even a month or two, that will go a long way to reducing my stress. And a fundraising-free commute makes for a happier, less stressed Alison.

So there you go--do it for NPR or do it for me. Either way, I'll be grateful.

On Such a Snowy Day, Let's All Give Thanks of the Techie Kind

2007-03-16T19:14:00.000-07:00

My son's school closed early today, so I left work to pick him up (he normally walks a mile home, but he didn't have snow gear). Unfortunately, my work day wasn't over, and I didn't want to lose any vacation hours. The fact that I could bring my computer home and boot up with full connectivity to my company reminded me once again what a great age we live in--technologically speaking, anyway.

So here's my "thank you!" list for today:

Laptops

Broadband (I don't even think I remember how to use dialup anymore!)

Instant messaging

Broadband

Good ol' email

Broadband

RSA SecurIDs with those nifty random number generators

and did I mention broadband?

Oh, yeah, and thanks to Midas for putting those nifty winter-style blades on my windshield wipers a few weeks ago. Sure made the drive home easier.

Last Ski Day?

2007-03-10T07:31:00.000-08:00

It'll be a warm day for the slopes (low 40s), but we want to get in at least one more trip. We're heading to Pat's Peak, meeting friends for their annual "let's take the kids and see if they might like to ski" outing. (The dad is an excellent skier, but the others--born and raised in Texas--are still novices.)

As my husband likes to say, "This year our goal was to move from greens to ... medium greens." And we achieved that, making several runs from the top of the peak (down the "easiest way down" slopes, which nevertheless have some steep sections). We didn't start skiing till we were in our own low 40s, so just being able to accomplish that has been a triumph. Our son, being a kid, is of course much better than we are and has taken up snowboarding as well. (If you saw him, you'd assume he was a boarder, with his lanky blond hair and lanky tall frame.)

This coming week's weather was supposed to get into the 60s and 70s, but now the forecast is calling for more like highs in the 40s and 50s. Does that mean we might be able to squeeze out one more weekend next Sunday?

Eh--probably not. Better to strike while the iron is cold. Wish us luck on the slushy slopes!

Talk About Low Approval Ratings!

2007-03-09T18:12:00.000-08:00

You've probably suspected this for a long time. Apparently W. not only makes horrible decisions, he can summon actual evil spirits:

GUATEMALA CITY --Mayan priests will purify a sacred archaeological site to eliminate "bad spirits" after President Bush visits next week, an official with close ties to the group said Thursday.

"That a person like (Bush), with the persecution of our migrant brothers in the United States, with the wars he has provoked, is going to walk in our sacred lands, is an offense for the Mayan people and their culture," Juan Tiney, the director of a Mayan nongovernmental organization with close ties to Mayan religious and political leaders, said Thursday.

Bush's seven-day tour of Latin America includes a stopover beginning late Sunday in Guatemala. On Monday morning he is scheduled to visit the archaeological site Iximche on the high western plateau in a region of the Central American country populated mostly by Mayans.

Tiney said the "spirit guides of the Mayan community" decided it would be necessary to cleanse the sacred site of "bad spirits" after Bush's visit so that their ancestors could rest in peace. He also said the rites -- which entail chanting and burning incense, herbs and candles -- would prepare the site for the third summit of Latin American Indians March 26-30. (You can read the rest of this Associated Press story here.)

Do you think those Mayan priests could help cleanse the United States' global reputation, too?

Tom, Buddy--Put a Sock on It!

2007-03-08T12:16:00.000-08:00

This is getting silly. Most men have two kids at once the usual way--they're called "twins." But not our Tom:

A Brazilian website reported yesterday that Tom Brady's girlfriend Gisele Bundchen may be pregnant and, if so, the Pats QB is the father. According to the popular celebrity website Glamurama.com.br, Bundchen would be no more than two months pregnant, but may already have told select friends and family.

This follows the whole Bridget Moynahan situation, of course. For a man who doesn't seem too interested in settling down, I'm detecting a hint of carelessness here. If it's true, I think it might be time to start compiling his wishlists.

Meet the New Dwarves, Not the Same as the Old Dwarves

2007-02-14T17:50:00.000-08:00

And here they are, ladies and gentlemen: Sleety, Snowy, Slushy, Sloppy, Frosty, Freezy, and Doc.

Where's the #$%&@ SNOW Already?

2007-02-07T18:05:00.000-08:00

Okay, it's been cold enough to make snow at the local ski mountains--that's good. But now, with the incessant cold but no new snow in the Boston area (not in Lexington anyway), the thin crust of snow left behind from last week is just solid ice. It's barely safe to leave or enter my house, at least not without risking limb (maybe not life, but limb for sure).

I'm not even complaining about the fact that we haven't gotten to use the handy-dandy electric snow thrower we bought last year--just about the ice.

So the weather gods need to make up their minds: It either needs to get warm again (let's face it, those 50-degree days were kind of nice) or snow a little. Blizzards need not apply--just a few inches to make my yard safe for traversing once more.

R.I.P. Molly Ivins

2007-02-01T12:31:00.000-08:00

I'm going to miss Molly Ivins, one of the strongest, funniest, and most perceptive voices in political journalism. I had the pleasure of hearing her speak twice and the honor of meeting her once. She was proud of being called a "liberal" even during the years--and in a state, Texas--that didn't value the liberal point of view much of the time.

When we met in Cambridge at the 2002 Nieman Conference on Narrative Journalism, I told her that I'd first heard her in Lubbock, Texas, where my husband was teaching college. She gently put her hand on my shoulder, smiled, and said in her drawl, "Oh, honey! You survived that! That's so wonderful!"

By the time I met her, the once-dark hair was white, a change that occurred during her battle with breast cancer. She was still funny, still sarcastic--yet not cruel--still smart, smart, smart.

Like her friend and fellow liberal, former Texas governor Ann Richards, Molly Ivins died too young. The cancer may have finally won, but she didn't stop writing till the very end--a voice too feisty to be forgotten.

Football: Snatching Defeat from Etc. Etc.

2007-01-21T23:04:00.000-08:00

AAAAAAGGGHHHHHHHH.

On the upside, the skiing wasn't bad today.

How's Your Holiday Going?

2006-12-28T19:31:00.000-08:00

Mine has been pretty nice, even if we're a little disappointed about the lack of cold weather for snow making on the slopes. On the plus side: no sidewalks to shovel!

Also, my husband's Xmas present finally arrived (only a couple of days late)--a new induction burner for the kitchen. We don't have gas running to the house, so induction is the next best thing in terms of heat control. This might as well have been a present for me: Anything that encourages my husband--the best home cook I know--to cook more (easier now that he's finished with grad school) makes me feel pretty jolly.

How's it going for you this week? Appreciating the snow-free walks? Glad it's almost New Year's? Enjoying a little time off work? Counting your blessings?

The Six Sweetest Words

2006-12-22T12:28:00.000-08:00

It's that time of year--the days are short, people are shopping, baking, getting together with friends--there's a sense of expectation in the air. So what better time than to say those six oh-so-sweet words to people everywhere:

"I'm Secretary of Defense Robert Gates."

(What? You thought I was going to say "Merry Christmas and Happy New Year"? No way, baby--that's not even close.)

Kind Cops on Patrol

2006-12-19T18:12:00.000-08:00

My doctor's office is at MGH, so for today's checkup I had to exit Storrow Drive and get past the construction site that will one day be a handicap-accessible T stop for the hospital. (Admit it: it's kind of funny--in a sick way--that the T stop for Mass General is so totally, totally non-accessible. Yup, just watch those people in casts and wheelchairs navigate the twisting steps!)

Anyway, I tried to get over to the left lane to make the turn into the hospital. Didn't quite make it through on the green light at the multi-way corner that's practically underneath the construction zone. And unfortunately, I ended up stopped over a pedestrian crosswalk. So imagine my concern when a young traffic cop started walking over to my car. I rolled down my window, expecting a "why'd you stop in a walkway?" lecture. (People can be so grumpy this time of year!)

"Which way are you going?," Nice Young Traffic Cop asked.

"To the hospital--I didn't quite make it into the left lane," I said.

"No, no--you're okay. Stay here and just drive across the intersection when I give the signal."

"But I'm blocking a crosswalk," I said.

"Don't worry, people have plenty of places to walk--you're fine," said NYTC. "Just wait for my signal."

I thanked NYTC and waved. He smiled.

When I crossed the intersection, there was so much of a backup that I still didn't make it into the left lane for my turn. This time ANOTHER cop told me that two lanes were turning left at this time (I think that's only during the construction period--don't expect this to be permanent).

Given that I always feel a bit like I'm taking my life in my hands driving through this particular piece of roadway, it was nice to know that Boston's Finest were looking after me. And the MBTA is making the T stop handicap accessible. And I found a parking space at the hospital garage quickly.

In the spirit of the holiday--it's all good.

Boots on the Ground

2006-12-11T11:45:00.000-08:00

Although there's been a distinct lack of the white stuff, it's still just cold enough to warrant wearing boots. Not being a shoe-holic (with big, wide feet, I can't afford to be), I have just three pairs, but they work for me--comfy leather boots that look good with skirts; warm, waterproof ankle boots with enough style to wear to work; and calf-high, black snowboots for all other situations demanding warmth and dryness.

What I really, really love about boots is the reverse corollary to what I love about you-can-wear-them-barefoot sandals: In the winter, no one can see your socks. So if I pull mismatched socks out of the drawer (a common occurence), I can pull on a pair of boots and no one knows. It's just my little secret.

Till now.

Wiieeee--yowww! (AKA My New Addiction)

2006-12-03T21:00:00.000-08:00

I'm a good mom. When my husband and I decided to get a Nintendo Wii for our son, the ever-awesome Boy, I took a couple hours off of work, stood in line at the EBGames in Burlington Mall (indoors, and you can get a danish from Au Bon Pain), put down my deposit, and got a preorder.

And when the consoles came in a few weeks later, I dutifully went with Jim and The Boy to EBGames at MIDNIGHT ON A SATURDAY to be one of the first people in America to own one. Like I said, I'm a good mom, and the Wii seemed like a good thing all around, as far as gaming platforms go. And it really is. Even my mother loves it, and she's a veritable Luddite.

But with all the hype about the motion-sensitive controller, the reasonable price (as such things go--less than half the cost of a PS3 for god's sake), and the sort of Apple-like design, why do they never warn you about the really important thing?

That is: If you play Wii Sports for several hours over the weekend--especially the boxing, tennis, and bowling--your shoulder and arm will hurt. I have tennis elbow from a video game! And not from mashing buttons, but from really swinging my arm as though I'm playing tennis. This is not my father's Nintendo, but were he around, Dad would probably love whuppin' my butt at it. (He loved tennis.)

I can't WAIT to explain this to my doctor. "But, Doc, I can't help myself. I get to play as a Mii character that I customized to look vaguely like me (though I never wear that much eyeshadow) and it's so much fuuuuunnnn." And I still want to play, despite the achy shoulder.

But hey, if I do the boxing every day, I might even lose a few pounds. That's gotta be worth something, too. No pain, no loss. Wiieeeee!

It's When?

2006-12-01T12:34:00.000-08:00

Good lord, it's December 1, and in the 60s. Global warming? Or just a fluke? Discuss.

(Yes, this is a short post, but I'm trying to get back into the swing of things. Thanks for noticing my absence.)

Where Have I Been?

2006-11-17T08:20:00.000-08:00

Busy, busy, busy, busy. Oh--and busy. Much work, much middle school, much political activity (go Dems!), visit to the Constitutional Convention (yay, equal marriage rights!).

Thanksgiving coming, company coming, cleaning, airport pickups, laundry. Probably not so different from YOUR life, right?

Thanks to those who wrote to say they missed me. (Sometimes I think I even miss myself...) I promise I'll try to be better.

Lexington's Own Mr. 830!

2006-10-27T12:29:00.000-07:00

How could I not know that there were Scrabble champs among us? Fortunately, Stefan Fatsis--Scrabble's uber-scribe--knows and tells all in Slate this week:

On Oct. 12, in the basement of a Unitarian church on the town green in Lexington, Mass., a carpenter named Michael Cresta scored 830 points in a game of Scrabble. His opponent, Wayne Yorra, who works at a supermarket deli counter, totaled 490 points. The two men set three records for sanctioned Scrabble in North America: the most points in a game by one player (830), the most total points in a game (1,320), and the most points on a single turn (365, for Cresta's play of QUIXOTRY).

In the community of competitive Scrabble, of which I am a tile-carrying member, the game has been heralded as the anagrammatic equivalent of Wilt Chamberlain's 100-point game in 1962 or Don Larsen's perfect game in the 1956 World Series: a remarkable, wildly aberrational event with potential staying power. Cresta's 830 shattered a 13-year-old record, 770 points, which had been threatened only infrequently.

One of the most interesting things, Fatsis points out, is that Cresta and Yorra aren't considered particularly good players--they rank in the bottom third of tournament players nationwide. A case of, eh hem, "score" one for the little guys, right?

(Triple bonus points for the event occurring on my mom's birthday. No one loves words like my mother!)

Not That It Will Help, But...

2006-10-22T23:28:00.000-07:00

I've become addicted to the first season of Everwood, now in reruns on ABC Family every evening. I started watching it during season 2 and stuck with it to the end, but saw only one or two eps from the first year. So now I TiVo the reruns (they're about halfway through that first season) and binge on mini-marathons on the weekends. Because TiVo gives you listings for about 12 days into the future, I've already noticed that season two will be here before I know it. (That's the one where we found out if Colin lived or died following his second brain surgery. Guess you had to be there.) Like many late, lamented shows pulled before their time (Angel springs to mind), there was still a lot of life left in that Colorado town.

This was s truly wonderful drama, yanked at least a year or more before its time--a WB show that fell victim of the creation of "The CW." Wonderful acting and writing, characters you could pull for, people who looked like people, not models (okay, the teens looked like models, but the adults just looked like...adults). The only thing good about its early cancellation is that the producers were given a heads-up in advance and were able to produce a wrap-up episode. I dare you not to cry, but it least there are no cliffhangers at the end.

So, if you didn't see it before, now's your chance. With four wonderful years to catch up on, that's about 88 shows. You could wait till they start with season 1 again in a couple of months, or join in now. Email me if you need an on-the-spot plot update.

Makes Me Want to Get a Facial

2006-10-19T19:15:00.000-07:00

I'm not much on the spa life (never enough time--sounds kind of appealing, though...). And I've never even set foot in an Elizabeth Grady, but suddenly I'm feeling the urge. It's hard to believe these kinds of things still happen in this day and age.

From the Globe:

John Walsh has a remarkable rags-to-riches story to tell, but it has not been remarkable enough to impress Jonathan Winthrop, who lives his life, quite literally, overlooking Beacon Hill from the penthouse. Walsh just wants to move downstairs. Winthrop and his neighbors have said no. Walsh, though, is not going away quietly.

"I didn't get to where I am by waiting for someone to give something to me," says Walsh, 51. "My parents instilled in me that you can do anything you want, be anything you want, as long as you work hard at it."

What's the problem, Winthrop? Afraid John Walsh's "posse" will try to give the neighbors free mani-pedis in the lobby? Vibrant, younger-looking skin a threat to you? Does the word "microdermabrasion" send chills down your spine?

Get a life. Better yet--get a facial. I understand they're very relaxing.

MixFest: BNL, Two Thumbs Up! But Please Hold the Meat Loaf

2006-10-01T17:15:00.000-07:00

Some random thoughts from last night's MixFest 98.5:

1) No musical act in its right mind (can an act have a mind?) should have to follow the Barenaked Ladies. Despite the shortened set to fit the festival, multi-act format, they rocked the house as always. I'm not sure how these guys can bear to sing "If I Had a Million Dollars" for the zillionth time yet never show a hint of boredom. (Maybe it's the obvious affection the audience gives back.) And props to BNL for stepping in at the last minute as a partial replacement (despite an already scheduled Nov. 1 gig here) for headliner Keane, which had to drop out when the lead singer went into rehab. BNL--Boston loves you and always will.

2) Unfortunately, the act that followed BNL was the other Keane-replacement act, Meat Loaf. Those of you present will remember and cringe. Those of you not there--keep your teenage memories of "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" intact and NEVER, NEVER see Meat Loaf in concert. And I don't say this just because he followed BNL.

3) Other acts were good, especially KT Tunstall (it's always cool to see a chick wielding the guitar, and she can really play, which is a bonus). James Blunt was also in fine form, although his songs are on the whole major downers. During the BNL show, lead singers Steven Page and Ed Robertson sang an impromptu rap/call-and-response piece that included a reference to how much Steven liked Blunt's song "Beautiful"--the first 65 times he heard it. Point taken.

4) Nice arena, Agganis. Even the floor seats were comfortable (upholstered, not just metal). First time there--I'll have to go back. Also, the ushers were very helpful and none of them seemed to be parolees.

5) To the couple in front of me: Sir, your girlfriend clearly didn't like you pawing her in full-on "get a room" mode in public. Didn't pulling away from you repeatedly while looking around at the rest of us with an embarrassed look on her face give you a clue? You've got issues, man. Discuss.

Taking a Bite Out of Marriage

2006-09-25T19:40:00.000-07:00

Let's not forget that the author of Jaws, the late Peter Benchley, was a long-time Mass resident. Could this happen here?

WASHINGTON DC—Senator Bill Frist (R–TN) introduced a controversial new bill Tuesday that would severely limit the ability of sharks to "mutilate the institution of marriage until it is completely unrecognizable."

"For too long, we've stood by as our most sacred institution has been thrashed, bit by bit, by these amoral predators," said Frist at a press conference, standing in front of a detailed diagram of a great white shark. "Marriage is a union between one man and one woman, and no shark should come between them with its powerful jaws and massive dorsal fin."

Sen. Bill Frist (R–TN) decries sharks' "ferocious impact" on marriage. Bill S-691, also known as The Protection Of Marital Extremities Act, was co-sponsored by Mel Martinez (R–FL), who said that, as a devoted husband, he would not want his own 25-year marriage to be split to pieces by a shark, and hinted that opponents of the bill were in fact aiding the fish in their "murderous ways."

"Liberals and Democrats would have you believe that sharks pose no threat to married couples," Martinez said. "They tell us that sharks should just be left alone to mind their own business, and they won't do anyone any harm. But we say it's time for those of us with backbone to stand up for what we believe in—before that backbone is torn violently from our torsos by these soulless, underwater killers."

Thanks to the Onion for alerting us to Bill Frist's unending work to protect us from the many threats to marriage today. I know that next time I'm at the New England Aquarium, I'm steering my hubby away from the shark tank.

Middle School Is Kicking Our Collective Butts

2006-09-21T20:12:00.000-07:00

"They" (you know who "they" are, right?) were on the money--middle school is a whole step up, homework-wise, from elementary school. Nearly every night brings more than an hour's worth of assignments, and in many cases two or more. (This is only sixth grade, after all.)

Although he's a good student--and seems to genuinely enjoy the new school--The Boy is taking a few weeks to adjust to the big changes--multiple teachers, different classrooms, dressing out for gym, and carrying around the biggest darn binder you've ever seen. Trying to be diligent parents, we often (usually) sit at the dining room table with The Boy as he works, with our main task being to keep him on task, seeing as how eleven-year-old boys can be distracted by anything from a passing car to a passing mote of dust. All this homework is seriously cutting into my laundry-folding, kitchen-cleaning, and lying-around-slothfully-after-work time. But I know he'll adjust, and we'll adjust, and everything will work out fine.

Still, it kind of makes me grateful to just have a plain old paying job.

Happy Birthday, Honey!

2006-09-19T12:24:00.000-07:00

It's my husband's birthday today. He'll be spending the day helping out at the polls in Boston on behalf of MassEquality. That's the kind of guy he is--he would never ask me or our son to wait on the celebrating in order to fulfill a promise on primary day, but he's more than willing to do so himself. He's the best--and gets better every year.

Don't Forget to Vote Tomorrow!

2006-09-18T19:09:00.000-07:00

Don't forget to go to the polls tomorrow. I'm a big believer in voting early and often (can you tell I'm a Democrat?). I'm also a big believer in the old adage, "If you don't vote, don't complain about your government."

Of course, this is a primary, so you don't have to listen to me today if you don't want to help pick the candidates. But don't worry--I'll be back to nudge you again in time for November's general election.

Farewell, Feathered Friend

2006-09-11T12:56:00.000-07:00

A few days after arriving home from our lovely vacation--this past Friday, to be exact--we discovered our beloved Quaker parrot, Sparky, dead in his cage.

We've been bird owners for more than 20 years, and one thing you never get over is the shock of a pet bird's sudden death. Unlike mammals, birds rarely show sickness until it's fatal, which means there's rarely time to take the bird to a vet and never enough time to prepare emotionally.

This fact held true in Sparky's case. Even when we buried the poor thing he still looked vibrant, almost healthy. Whatever happened remains a mystery--an infection, perhaps. He was about 9, which is a little young for a Quaker, but not unheard of.

We'll always remember Sparky for his gift of mimicry (much better than our other parrot, a yellow-collared macaw), his lovely green coloring, and his prodigious appetite. To my son, Sparky holds a special place as the first pet he ever had any say in choosing. Naturally, the Boy was devastated--a tough blow during the first week of middle school, which is already a stressful transition.

Every night, we said good night to our birds with "'Night, 'night, Sparky! 'Night, 'night, Cookie!" and they'd both answer back. It's going to be tough learning to say good night to just one from now on.

I'm BAA-AACK!

2006-09-02T17:37:00.000-07:00

Just returned from two weeks in Canada--a week each in Quebec and New Brunswick. Glad to have gone, glad to be home. More on this later.

Hah! It's Not an Addiction--It's a Health Food!

2006-08-17T21:17:00.000-07:00

As if you needed any more excuse to down coffee on a daily basis (make mine iced!), two mainly* Boston-based researchers in a recent issue of the Journal of the American Medical Association, say: Yep, it's good for ya.

The NYTimes (citing the JAMA article) agrees:

Coffee is not usually thought of as health food, but a number of recent studies suggest that it can be a highly beneficial drink. Researchers have found strong evidence that coffee reduces the risk of several serious ailments, including diabetes, heart disease and cirrhosis of the liver.

It's particularly good in warding off the type 2 diabetes:

Larger quantities of coffee seem to be especially helpful in diabetes prevention. In a report that combined statistical data from many studies, researchers found that people who drank four to six cups of coffee a day had a 28 percent reduced risk compared with people who drank two or fewer. Those who drank more than six had a 35 percent risk reduction.

My hubby, the Ph.D. in applied math (mainly probability) says this is HUGE reduction in risk, not just one of those slight gains that often get overhyped in the press.

BTW, does it surprise you that most of the work was done in the Hub? We can't live without our joe! (Make mine iced!)

*JAMA author Affiliations: Department of Nutrition and Health, Faculty of Earth and Life Sciences, Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam, the Netherlands (Dr van Dam); Department of Nutrition (Drs van Dam and Hu) and Department of Epidemiology (Dr Hu), Harvard School of Public Health, Boston, Mass; Channing Laboratory, Brigham and Women’s Hospital and Harvard Medical School, Boston, Mass (Dr Hu).

Flame On?

2006-08-15T21:52:00.000-07:00

Just biding my time, waiting for my Dell laptop to catch fire.

Good thing I didn't buy a Dell lithium-ion battery-powered fire extinguisher. I mean, if your fire extinguisher catches fire, what do you do?

I've Got a Loverly Bag of Chocolates (Or--For God's Sake, Get to Burlington NOW!)

2006-08-14T18:43:00.000-07:00

Run, walk, drive, bike, whatever to the Lindt Chocolate store at Burlington Square on Middlesex Turnpike (not, repeat NOT the store in Burlington Mall--the store near Eastern Mountain Sports and Finagle a Bagel). It's Lindt Factory Clearance time, which is a heck of a lot tastier than, say, Toyota Factory Clearance time. This is an unadvertised special (according to the store manager), so unless you drove past the store and saw the signs in the window, you wouldn't know that there were some great prices on one of life's cure-alls just waiting for you.

I'm talking all manner of Lindt bars for discounts as low as a dollar each (if you buy 12, but with all the variety, you'll be surprised how fast you can amass 12 bars); boxes of white chocolate-coconut miniatures (today's featured item--200 minis for $3.95!); small bags of truffles for 75 cents each (outrageous discounts on quantity purchases, but even I couldn't quite justify buying a dozen bags), and boxes of praline minis for $4.00 each. (The back of the store has all the newer, regularly priced merch.)

Though some of the bars will be accompanying me on our upcoming camping trip (and some will stay behind for baking), most of the hoard is just hanging out in my office, waiting for distribution.

My office runs on chocolate. Say what you like about paychecks and pats on the back, it's candy (okay, sweet goodies of all kind) that keeps my colleagues coming to work. (I can't really blame them--it's one of the reasons I'm here.) Already I have renewed the love and affection of many of my coworkers. It's amazing what sprinkling some dark chocolate truffles around will do.

It's a chocolate sale, people--what more do I have to say?

P.S. This particular store is NOT closing. I asked (what with the factory clearance and all), but the manager said that not only is the Burlington Square store NOT closing, she wishes the Burlington Mall employees would stop telling customers that it is. (That's where I'd heard the rumor myself.) Most unsettling for her employees, she says. As you can imagine.

Lovely Logan--Can't Wait!

2006-08-11T12:59:00.000-07:00

My husband just got back from Seattle this morning (he took an overnight flight via San Francisco). Although it took him a "mere" 90 minutes to get through security (not counting the 5 minutes to check his bag and the 5 minutes to walk to the gate), he said that some security lines at SeaTac stretched on for 5 HOURS.

This doesn't exactly make me look forward to taking my folks to Logan tomorrow afternoon. We have to be there a minimum of three hours in advance, and both of them need wheelchair assistance, which I was told isn't available until they actually check in. I was assured that the wheelchair assistant would wait with them all the way through security, however. Let's just hope the airline keeps up its end of that bargain.

Suddenly, my stepdad's idea of flying non-stop to Logan (rather than a one-stop trip that arrives at the drive-straight-up-Rt.3-then-park-out-front-and-go-help-your-parents Manchester Airport, always my preference) isn't sounding like very much fun.

Sigh. If you need me tomorrow, I'll be at Logan. For hours.

Really Good Lobster Rolls in Kennebunkport

2006-08-09T12:46:00.000-07:00

My folks are visiting from Virginia, always a treat. A visit from them requires at least one jaunt to Maine, so they can go home and brag about how "the kids took us to Maine for the day!" (We get a lot of halo effect out of an hour's drive. Okay--with the summer traffic, more like 90 minutes.)

We tried to take them to the Maine Diner in Wells this Sunday, but the lengthy wait was somewhat off-putting. So we pulled out our handy-dandy copy of the new guide New England's Favorite Seafood Shacks: Eating Up the Coast from Connecticut to Maine and headed for the Clam Shack in Kennebunkport. (NOTE: The address in the link I provided--Rt. 9 at the bridge in Kennebunkport--is correct. Seafood Shacks, although otherwise an excellent guide, gives the wrong location [Rt. 1]. You must follow the signs into the village of Kennebunkport to get there.)

I've avoided Kennebunkport for the last several years because I'm not a big fan of the Bushes. However, thanks to the reign of King W, I've come to see more and more what a great guy his dad is, so the moratorium has ended. Plus, I'm a whore for a good lobster roll, and the book highly recommends the ones at the Clam Shack. (Travel + Leisure also gives them one the ol' thumbs up.)
And indeed they're good ones--lots of freshly picked meat (they actually do it when you order instead of storing up a bunch in the early part of the day). And you get your choice of butter OR mayo (make mine butter, please!), all served on a tasty round bun. (A little unusual, yes, but good.)

Add to that the setting by the bridge (no indoor seating--it's either benches or leaning against the railings over the water) and you have SFNE personified. You can toss bits of lobster to the gulls or be like me and scarf down every morsel yourself.

My mom had a steamed lobster instead of the lobster roll--a delicious softshell with plenty of butter. Mom's a slow eater, so she kept offering me pieces (my payment for cracking it and digging out the meat). I didn't refuse, I have to admit.

Why Isn't the Boston Pops in on This?

2006-08-07T19:52:00.000-07:00

I just discovered there's a touring show called "Play: A Video Game Symphony."

Each performance is done by a local orchestra. Local as in, say, the National Symphony Orchestra--not exactly a bunch of slouches. The NSO performed "Play" this past Friday night in Virginia at Wolf Trap, which is sort of the Northern Virginia equivalent of Tanglewood, but a lot closer to the city. (Very nice venue, I can tell you from personal experience.)

You read that correctly--music from video games. And why should that strike anyone as strange? Orchestras have been giving programs with movie music for decades now. The music from many video games is wonderful, and--if not exactly Beethoven--is certainly as symphonically rich and evocative as a James Horner film score.

From the Washington Post:

The brainchild of 29-year-old Jason Michael Paul, who says that he was the first kid on his block to own a Sega Genesis, "Play!" debuted in May, making stops in Chicago, Stockholm, Detroit and, most recently, Philadelphia. (Two years ago, Paul produced the first video game concert in the United States, "Dear Friends -- Music From 'Final Fantasy.' ") Paul and the show's conductor, Arnie Roth, have come up with a program that runs the gamut of game music, from "Sonic the Hedgehog" to "Metal Gear Solid." Roth, who's worked with the likes of Diana Ross, Charlotte Church and Art Garfunkel, is an outsider to games.

(See Keith Lockhart, you wouldn't even have to conduct. They bring their own.)

This could be just the sort of thing for my son, who got somewhat burned out on orchestral music when I was marketing director for a small symphony. But I checked the current touring schedule, and I see no local dates--no Boston Pops, no BSO.

What gives? It's okay to salute Oscar and Tony, but not The Legend of Zelda? Why is it okay to play John Williams but not Nobuo Uematsu? Huh? Huh? This is a guy who has concerts devoted just to his music alone (forget the other gaming composers), but I'm not seeing him on the Pops schedule. (BTW, I love John Williams' film scores--I was just making a comparison.)

Goodness knows we have enough computer programmers, web developers, Internet entrepreneurs, and just all around gaming fanatics to fill Symphony Hall for such a show. Now, if Mr. Lockhart tells me that he's just holding out until they add some of the music from Katamari Damacy--truly the musical standout of the last two years in video games, then I'll understand and forgive. But until then, we're waiting.

Overheard in Lexington

2006-08-04T22:53:00.000-07:00

I was in Stop & Shop earlier this week, looking for milk in that 20 x 20 section that sells organic/natural foods, when I heard the following conversation between a mom and her (I'd guess) 11-year-old daughter in the canned-goods aisle:

Daughter: "I can't eat this!"

Mom: "But honey, you can eat this. It's completely vegetarian."

Daughter: "I can't!"

Mom: "But look--it's just beans, tomatoes, spices--no meat products of any kind. It's completely vegetarian. Really, honey, you can eat this."

Daughter (getting progressively more agitated): "I CAN'T--you don't understand! There's stuff in here I can't eat!"

Mom (keeping calm, considering): "Really, sweetie--look. It's all vegetarian, all natural. No animal products of any kind. Let me get this for you."

Daughter (more agitated): "NO! I CAN'T! This isn't what I can eat!!"

I was in a hurry, so I finally had to leave, with the mother still trying (very patiently, I thought) to reason with her daughter that the vegetarian soup really was okay for a vegetarian to eat. And I had a glimpse of my future. Although I'm a pretty dedicated carnivore (as loyal readers know from my many posts on barbeque), I figure it's only a matter of time before my pet-loving, tender-hearted son goes veggie. His favorite foods are already eggs, mangos, and macaroni and cheese, so it wouldn't even be that big of a stretch, diet-wise.

On the other hand, he may change his mind when he figures out that being vegetarian means no bacon. At that point, all bets are off.

Waiting and Wading in Maine

2006-07-30T22:04:00.000-07:00

I love the beach at Ogunquit, no more so than this past Saturday. This despite the more than two hours it took to make a one-hour journey. (Thanks, once again, to the state of New Hampshire for creating that wonderful backup at the Hampton tollbooths so you can collect ONE DOLLAR from me. This does NOT make me bullish on New Hampshire tourism. On the other hand, thanks to the nice town employee who helped us get the last available parking space in the public lot near the the little Ogunquit River bridge. That's civil service.)

When we finally hit our patch of sand, we were only about an hour from high tide. Fortunately, my observant hubby picked a patch of ground a little beyond the last visible high-tide mark--up near the rocks. It was so hot, and the water was SO COLD--colder than during our last visit, in late June. (It must be an ocean current thing.) The water was so frigid it actually hurt to stand in, yet the sun was beating down so hard that everyone was forced to choose between sun, water, sun, water. I chose sitting in a chair, reading a book (in which much of the action, coincidentally, takes place in a Maine summer colony), and occasionally dipping in the cold before retreating again, where I threw a towel over my legs to keep from becoming one of New England's last freshly made Krispy Kremes.

When the tide starting coming in, it came in fast. I looked up from my book and realized that the water was mere feet away. We pulled our blanket, shoes, and chairs back a couple of feet, then did the same for some sand-neighbors who had gone off for a swim. This continued for more than an hour, as the water got closer and closer to the rocks against the cement wall in front of the parking lot.

With a motto of "if you can't beat it, retreat from it," the multitudes took flight. Well, they moved their stuff. It was comical to see hundreds of bathers madly pulling their gear back, until we were all crowded into a long, narrow strip of unsoaked sand, leaving barely room to walk among the blankets, umbrellas, chairs, coolers, towels, and baby gear.

My husband and I strolled along the shoreline, trying to find if their were warmer pockets of water (nope) and if everyone was making the mad scramble for dry patches of sand (yup). Up and down the beach, a sort of cameraderie grew as we all waited for the turning of the tide, sharing space, making jokes, shaking our heads at wet towels and soaked shoes.

One group of kids decided they'd had enough and went on the offensive. Their battlement, made of a sandwall high enough (and far enough back) to fend off the encroaching waves stood, proudly, emblazoned with "Big Dig 2006."

Time and tide wait for no man. Instead, they make memories for all of us.

They're Still Wrong

2006-07-26T18:45:00.000-07:00

I do care that Washington State's Supreme Court upheld a ban on gay marriage. To say I don't care would just be flippant. I still believe they're wrong, and that time will prove Massachusetts right. Some things take time--votes for women and minorities, civil rights for non-whites. I'm just finding it harder to be patient as I think of a segment of our population that's denied a right that my husband and I didn't have to fight for.

There are a few rays of light, however:

In a splintered decision, Justice Barbara Madsen wrote that the state's marriage law was enacted to "promote procreation and to encourage stable families."

"The legislature was entitled to believe that limiting marriage to opposite-sex couples furthers the State's legitimate interests in procreation and the well-being of children."

She wrote that the same-sex couples failed to prove that they had a fundamental right to marry, or that the state's 1998 Defense of Marriage Act was unconstitutional.

The 5-4 ruling -- signed by Chief Justice Gerry Alexander and Justice Charles Johnson -- also noted a hardship for same-sex couples, however, and suggested that the legislature "may want to re-examine the impact of the marriage laws on all citizens of this state." (Emphasis added by me.)

I'm hoping that last sentiment--that this ruling is hurting law-abiding citizens--will begin to take hold among a larger segment of the population at large.

One final note: This continuing "defense" of marriage as largely (or solely) to promote procreation is yet again a slap in the face to those couples who cannot (or choose not to) have children. Are these marriages, though heterosexual, somehow less "legitimate" than those in which children are born? This argument has always struck me as both weak and offensive, so find another one already.

If the state wants to support stable homes for children, then cut poverty, increase employment, provide more beds for drug/alcohol rehab, and improve the schools. Those things will make homes for children more stable, not some mean-spirited law that reduces the rights of citizens.

Am I a Traitor?

2006-07-26T07:19:00.000-07:00

Why is it that, as much as I love Dunkin' iced coffee, I find myself increasingly drawn to the new iced coffee at McDonald's? And you can't even get it in decaf, for god's sake.

I tell myself--well, they're using the Newman's Own Organic Coffee. So the famed Paul Newman charities get some money. Presumably the coffee is being grown by smallish, possibly even fair-trade, suppliers. Plus the beans are roasted by Vermont's own Green Mountain Coffee. That's all good, right? And it's not like McDonald's is some Goliath (which it is) going up against a tiny Dunkin David, because that's just not true. Still, still....

But let's get real. There's a McD's with a drivethrough on my way to work. No such animal in the form of a Dunkin for me. (I may drive the only 3-mile stretch in MetroWest with just ONE Dunks on the route.) And it only costs $1.59 (plus tax) for a generous medium--about 50 cents less than a medium iced dunks (which you can get in decaf, a nice thing in the late afternoon).

And it tastes really good. I feel almost sorrowful in saying that. Most iced coffee is pretty mediocre. Starbucks is overroasted. Peet's is good but not readily available to me except at their store in Lexington. Most restaurant versions are basically a cup of coffee poured over ice. (You'd think that would be my favorite, since I first became addicted to the stuff when my New York-born dad would get through Virginia summers by dumping his dinner coffee into a glass filled with ice.) For years I'd tell anyone who'd listen (before they backed away slowly) that nobody's--and I meant nobody's--iced coffee touched Dunk's. When we moved back east after six Dunks-free/good-iced-coffee-free years in Texas, I almost cried the first time I put a cold one to my lips.

But now I've found another and I feel so...bad? Guilty? Overcaffeinated? Since they don't make the McD's version in decaf, how about if I stick to McD's in the morning and Dunks decaf iced for the rest of the day. Is that okay?

(For another take on this, read The Columnist Manifesto's views on the growing coffee wars. Okay, he's a Mets fan, get over it.)

Goodbye, Fred!

2006-07-25T12:37:00.000-07:00

In a previous life, I worked as member-publications manager at the American Statistical Association (a fact that would have made my college statistics teacher laugh merrily--I was hopeless). One of our most esteemed members, Frederick Mosteller, died July 23 in Virginia. He served as ASA President in 1967 and was always one of the people we'd point to and say, "Look at what this man has accomplished."

And indeed, his accomplishments were many: He founded Harvard's department of statistics and published influential books and papers in many fields, including health, education, and the field of statistics known as "meta-analysis." The Washington Post has a nice summary of his professional life here.

But he wasn't just about the work. Long before Bill James and the invention of Sabermetrics, Fred was mulling over baseball and the numbers, as the Post says:

One of Dr. Mosteller's early papers, the first known academic analysis of baseball, showed that even a strong team relies heavily on luck in a short, seven-game series. He wrote the piece after the Boston Red Sox, his favorite team, lost the World Series to the St. Louis Cardinals in 1946.

A longtime resident of Belmont, he moved to Northern Virginia two years ago to be near his kids. Though I only met him in passing at one of our national meetings, I know that he had many friends and admirers. The world will miss you, Fred--we've lost a Sox fan and a great man.

Wanted: One Good Guinea Pig Vet

2006-07-22T10:18:00.000-07:00

My son's little divas (by which I mean his guinea pigs) have reached a certain age. By which I mean that need to be spayed. Since we're not planning on breeding them, they will have better long-term health if they get some surgery. And my son wants his pets to have the longest, healthiest lives possible.

But obviously this is not a DIY job, so I'm looking for any suggestions (preferably in the Boston MetroWest area) for a veterinarian experienced with cavies and/or rodents.

If you know anyone you'd recommend, please email or leave a comment. Thanks!

With So Many Bloggers, Let's Put on a Show!

2006-07-20T12:13:00.000-07:00

Glad to hear that I'm not alone: According to the Pew Internet & American Life Project, there are about a gazillion bloggers online. And apparently many of them are younger than I am and go to a lot more clubs and bars.

Okay, not a gazillion. Not even a bajillion. But 12 million bloggers in the U.S. counts for plenty.

Some of them you've heard of, most you haven't. Which leaves room for the TV series, since everything seems to become a TV series these days, what with those niche channels like Fuel, Speed, Lifetime Movies, and the all-telenovelas-all-the-time MyNetworkTV (the leftovers from the UPN-WB merger--as Dave Barry would say, I'm not making this up), The Utter Trash Channel, and so on. (Okay, I did make up that last one.) There's just so much material out there!

The show would go something like this: "There are 12 million stories in the Naked Blogosphere. This is one of them." Everyone could get a shot at telling their stories on TV--how your pregnancy went; why you hate grocery shopping; is Lyndon LaRouche still a viable candidate for POTUS; world's worst job interview; and the ever-popular funny pictures of your cat.

Boston bloggers would of course get episodes devoted to Sox love, Big Dig dismay, the best place to eat lobstah, how rude/nice/odd/special Bostonians are, and why New Yorkers should stop talking funny.

Being blog-based, many of the stories would be rambling, some funny, some gripping, many misspelled and grammatically incorrect. Some would make you think you'd discovered an amazing new talent, others would make you go "eh." Just like the blogosphere.

I think it could work. Bloggers, start your pitches!

One of the Things I Love About Brotherhood

2006-07-19T12:57:00.000-07:00

We've been watching Showtime's new, exceptionally SFNE show Brotherhood (which you must admit is a catchier title than A Thinly Veiled Account of the Bulger Brothers Set in Providence Instead of Boston So We Can Fictionalize It More) and loving it.

There are many things to enjoy--complex characters, fairly accurate accents, and the fact that it's actually shot on location so it looks real. One of my favorite elements is that the main character, Tommy Caffey, a Rhode Island state rep from a run-down section of Providence, lives in an old rowhouse. And said old rowhouse has a problem: When you turn on a window-unit air conditioner at the same time you're running the dishwasher, the circuit blows. And upgrading the electrical will cost $10,000 he doesn't have. It's become a running plot point--fixing up the house.

A true New England plotline, especially in this heat. We've found in our old house that the circuit blows when you turn on the fourth window unit (the older, less energy-efficient one). That's with the washing machine, a load of portable fans, and the other three units running, however; I think we're in better shape than Tommy. For now.

So I won't be cutting any deals with a union to have "some boys come over and help out" with the problem any time soon. Though if I could, I'd probably consider it.

Out of the Mouths of Babes, Part II

2006-07-16T14:45:00.000-07:00

I asked The Boy to bring me the dirty clothes in his hamper. After adding them to the already over-loaded basket I was about to carry to the basement, he had an epiphany.

"Wow, Mom," he said. "I've come to the conclusion that doing laundry is a lot more work than I thought it was!"

(And yes, this remark isn't as profound as the previous post, but it just shows that as a mother, you can expect just about anything in the space of a few days.)

Out of the Mouths of Babes

2006-07-16T14:36:00.000-07:00

While standing in the rain during the Con-Con this week, my son--a veteran of many State House visits to lobby in support of equal marriage rights--noticed that there weren't as many of the "others" on the opposite side of the street as he expected. (My husband, in fact, mentioned that he'd expected a much larger turnout himself, particularly given the amount of out-of-state money being poured into the anti-gay-marriage movement.)

Jim and I offered several reasons for the lower turnout--the rain, the low spot on the agenda (meaning that they wouldn't get to a vote, which is exactly what happened), and summer vacations.

"Vacations? That could be it," said The Boy. "Even evil has to take a break sometime, Mom!"

Marriage Equality Still on the Line

2006-07-10T12:35:00.000-07:00

Another day, another Constitutional Convention. The right of consenting adults to marry is under consideration--under fire--again, this time on Wednesday, July 12.

It's not too late to do your part to preserve equal marriage rights for all families. The good folks at MassEquality have ways you can help--check it out.

Don't kid yourself: this is our era's civil rights issue, whether you're straight, gay, or bi. This is about allowing adults to live their lives with the people they love, with the full protection of the law. Remember when interracial marriage was illegal because, after all, it "went against longstanding tradition"?

We live and learn. Make your state proud--do the right thing.

Pipe Bomb Update: Funny Ha-Ha or Funny Strange?

2006-07-06T12:39:00.000-07:00

According to today's Lexington Minuteman, the pipe bomb that kid made in my neighborhood was just part of a hobby he shares with his dad:

James Cooke, who just completed the eighth-grade, developed an interest in chemistry over the past year after science lesson in school. James and his father David, a physicist at Hanscom, often experimented with concepts taught in the classroom. The two recently began a project of mixing chemicals, purchased from online vendors, to make controlled explosions.

Last Friday, James Cooke followed everything his father taught him, even testing the time of the fuse the night before. Unlike when working with his father, James placed the explosives inside a PVC container and capped it, effectively making a firecracker, which is illegal in Massachusetts. The loud bang set off by the exploding plastic notified Michele and a neighbor what her son was up to, hiding behind a picnic table in their yard.

Apparently the noise from the pre-Fourth of July hijinx bummed out James' mom, Michele, who proceeded to call the police, thinking Officer Friendly would just give her son a talking-to. No such luck:

The officer, unsure of what the chemicals were, called the fire chief. The fire chief, following protocol and state law, refused to touch the chemicals, evacuated the home and called the state bomb squad. The news media began circling overhead. The squad came, took away the still-bagged compounds and took them to the town dump on Hartwell Avenue where they were detonated. James is now doing dishes.

It turns out that James and his dad possessed illegally large amounts of explosive materials according to Massachusetts state law. Nevertheless, given all the fuss and bother, Mom Michele is now sorry she called in the cops.

"It was funny," said Michele in retrospect. "It was really, really funny."

Sing along with me now: "So we'll have fun, fun, fun till the bombsquad takes my C4 away..."

The Advantage of Traveling on the Fourth of July

2006-07-05T12:58:00.000-07:00

My husband, son, and I visited my in-laws in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia this weekend, returning yesterday. Despite the 630-mile journey--which is going to take all day no matter how you slice it--it was smooth sailing. (We skirted the NY/NJ area by taking I-81 to I-84 to the Mass Pike.)

No traffic to speak of. No backups. No roadwork. No pileups. Everyone must have been at the beach, out of town, on the Cape, in the Berkshires--anything but on the road.

Except for the superabundance of cops looking for speeders (which forced me to drive at a sedate 70 instead of my preferred 80 on the nearly empty interstates), it was one of the nicest long drives I've ever made. Even the massive rain in central Pennsylvania in mid-afternoon couldn't (ahem) dampen our spirits.

Tuesday holidays--they're meant for traveling.

Another Big Bang in Lexington

2006-06-30T20:28:00.000-07:00

It's bad enough that those kids who blew up the pipe bomb in Lexington live nearby. I'm hoping that the whole thing will turn out to be just a stupid, pre-4th of July prank. And thank goodness, no one was hurt. (Lexington is becoming quite the center for explosions, isn't it?) I'm sure the parents are mortified and furious (it was the mom who called the cops).

But now that it's all over, I'm wondering: Who made the decision to let numerous media vehicles onto the street (close to the house in question) yet at the same time barricade the streets to neighborhood traffic? My husband had to park way down the street, then argue politely with a cop about walking to our house (which sits within the evacuated zone) to get me and our son. They nearly didn't let him come home, but fortunately, a police officer took pity on Jim and let him fetch us, with the promise that we'd walk out of the zone immediately.

Yet at no time during this dickering with Jim about crossing the barrier did any official think to either (a) come and escort from our house or at least (b) call us and ask us to leave. My husband was even there to give them the number.

In other words, it wasn't safe for him to swing by for his family, but it was okay for us to sit like potential sitting ducks in the house. And okay for all the local newsmedia to camp outside Maison de Pipe Bomb, just in case something really juicy happened. Are exploding reporters an even bigger story than the one they came to cover?

This does not exactly make me feel safe and secure.

(Photo courtesy of www.cbs4boston.com.)

Five Years...and Counting!

2006-06-30T07:41:00.000-07:00

This weekend marks the fifth anniversary of my family moving to New England. Happy to be here, happy to stay.

Regular readers of this blog know that I'm still groovin' on the Blue State vibe of Massachusetts and its environs. As a former child of the South and an adult of the mid-Atlantic and the West, I've learned and experienced many new things.

But if there's one thing I've learned in these last few years, it's this:

With the Sox doing so incredibly, spectacularly well right now (12-game winning streak, 4 games ahead of the Evil Empire in the standings), just how bad will the post-All Star break slump be?

I'm really getting concerned, because the high is so high right now. Are we heading for another World Series win or should I prepare my summer mourning outfit (black cropped pants, black tee-shirt, black Sox cap, black sandals)? Would someone like to pep me up before I worry myself into a tizzy?