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June 2019

An early summer night in Boston is often filled with the sweet fragrance of elderly linden trees, and on this late evening the perfume was prevalent as soon as we skirted Boston Common. Following the show, we walked over to the Four Seasons, where we each teetered on the edge of ordering that amazing multi-layer chocolate cake, but ultimately refrained. The server remembered us from last time, and insisted on a second pour of a sparkling rose. Who am I to say no? Across from the hotel the Boston Public Garden was shrouded in the shadows of more linden trees, while in the lobby the post-celebration vestiges of a wedding spilled out from the elevators. Everyone, it seemed, was having a happy night.

We took an Uber back to the condo, where I promptly crashed. We had brunch reservations back beside the Public Garden the next morning; it’s so much nicer in the sunlight. As the air conditioner hummed in the window, and the quiet Boston night settled around us, the next thing I knew Andy was waking me and asking what time it was. I looked at my phone and panicked: it was 10:30 and we had 11:00 reservations.

Luckily, in times of dire need and urgency, I can be ready in ten minutes, and with both of us rushing we walked into the restaurant a minute shy of 11 AM.

A Bellini and Croque Madame made for a lovely pairing while we looked over at the Boston Public Garden. The day was splendid 0 sunny with just a small smattering of clouds to add interest to the blue sky.

On almost every trip to Boston, I try to make a stop in the Public Garden. It holds a special place in my heart, and on this day it was doubly fun as Andy was along for the stroll. We passed the spot where we got married over nine years ago (our 10^thwedding anniversary looms happily within the next year – yes, plans are already being made!) There were fleets of ducks landing in the pond, and the pair of white swans stood together on the island. Squirrels were about, dodging dogs and children, and the lingering bracts of the Chinese dogwood held their white starbursts brilliantly against the sky.

It was a beautiful day.

It’s been years since I first (and last) saw ‘Miss Saigon’ and unlike some of those British mega-musicals from the 80’s (‘Les Miserables‘, ‘Cats‘, ‘Phantom of the Opera‘) this one didn’t show much promise of aging well. Fortunately, thanks to some clever re-staging and earnest performances, the show was surprisingly effective. Most of that goes to the irresistible score, delivered by a company of pros. That helicopter scene is still a bit of a gimmick, but a genuinely powerful one. Andy was impressed, and that’s all that mattered on this quick little trip to Boston as summer officially got underway.

The sun welcomed us back in the early afternoon, and as Andy took a nap to restore himself from a sleepless night (and drive) I made a quick shopping expedition, more memorable for the walk through Boston in full summer bloom than any extravagant purchases. We are not quite to the searing heat that can cripple a city – the kind that comes with the first heatwave and then sticks around until October – but the sun was out and it was on the warm side of things. I stayed to the shady side of the street, where it was easier to notice the little enclaves of cool respite, gardens where hosta and ferns gently swayed in the slight breeze. There are many of these tiny squares, and more expansive vistas along the Southwest Corridor Park, where local denizens have been steadily improving the flora in every available space of dirt. It’s come a very long way from the barely-tended stretch of unkept landscaping standards that once populated that place. A long and beautiful way.

I picked up a few items at Eataly – some razor thin prosciutto and a trio of fresh apricots – then returned to the condo for a siesta and a snack. Andy put some Cole Porter on and we got ready for an early dinner in Chinatown. In keeping with the show, it was Vietnamese, and though I was not planning on a steaming bowl of pho, the air conditioning was blowing directly on my skin so I went for it.

With a little time left over, we stopped at the Avery Bar at the Ritz Carlton – a favorite haunt for a fancy cocktail, and right around the corner from the Boston Opera House.

In the cool splendor of such a venue, we found our seats and the show began…