Category Archives: Boston

For me, that will alway be Boston.

From childhood moments to coming-of-age events, Boston has provided the backdrop to some of the most pivotal events in my life, and while not all of them could ever be construed as happy or even enjoyable, the overall arc is one of rich and wonderful experience, especially when it comes to our wedding day, and all the lovely anniversaries that followed. That continues this weekend, as we once again enjoy this fair city that is at its best at this time of the year. 

After a relaxing Friday evening entry into Boston, Saturday dawned with sunshine – a deceptive peek at the beauty to be had when weather and atmosphere agreed. We knew that wouldn’t last, and with storms forecast for the afternoon, we hurriedly grabbed an Uber to the seaport, where our seaside Spring Stroll was scheduled to begin. 

The sea had been calling to us for years, yet for some reason we largely, and unintentionally, steered clear of its magic. It was there on nights when the fog streamed in from the water, and all of Boston had the smell of ocean and seaweed carried on wet winds, and I always longed for it then, but we never really did anything about it. Until this weekend. 

We planned the bulk of our day around the seaport – walking and strolling along the harbor amid the seagulls and the lapping water. Spring was definitely in the air, and we absorbed the moment as best we could, knowing that storms were brewing, feeling the subtle shift in the air as the hours ticked by. 

Here, in this city, where old and new combined and collided on cobblestone streets and brand new construction, we wound our way along the water, greeting the spring season in this virgin stroll. 

The sun was strong, and the air warm enough to remove a jacket for a picture or two. It felt like such a simple joy, yet when I think back on the last two years, how grandly epic such simplicity really is. There can be grace and grandiosity in every moment, no matter how seemingly simple. 

We enjoyed an early lunch at a Mexican restaurant, then made our way back downtown for some shopping. By that time the rain had arrived, and we headed back home as the first drops began to fall. Such was our first Spring Stroll. 

I’m being bold enough to hope for another. 

We won’t cast a hex by proclaiming this the first annual Boston Spring Stroll, we will merely celebrate it as the first, and perhaps last, time Kira and I performed such an endeavor, and if it grows into something beyond this moment, so it shall be. For now, this initial spring weekend in Boston was a simple exercise in spending time with a cherished friend, walking down new streets and avenues in a favorite city. 

Of course, every Boston stroll – holiday, spring, or otherwise – begins with the Friday afternoon/evening entry to get thing rolling. It’s usually my favorite part of the festivities, because it’s all about anticipation and planning and the moments when the whole weekend holds full of possibility. Here, Boston greeted us with floral beauty – and the very first blooms of the season.

While Kira finished up her work day, I perused Newbury Street and picked up some dinner amendments before heading back to the condo for the best part of the day: the afternoon siesta.

As Kira made her way from Mass General to Back Bay, I finished cooking a tamarind fish curry dinner (it being a Friday in Lent) and put out a spread of appetizers. We toasted to the Spring Stroll, and our planned seaside adventure. 

Sharing a dinner with a friend remains one of life’s overlooked indulgences, and I continue to find gratitude in such simple acts of camaraderie. Kira and I talked and caught up over the meal, and made tentative and loos plans for the next day, which looked to be fraught with some sort of rain. Not out of place for a spring stroll, I suppose, but no less annoying for that.

As the day closed, we realized we had stayed at the kitchen table talking and laughing and there was no time for a movie. It made for a night of deep sleep, and a re-entry into Boston living, at least for the weekend…

“I’m no longer a child and I still want to be, to live with the pirates. Because I want to live forever in wonder. The difference between me as a child and me as an adult is this and only this: when I was a child, I longed to travel into, to live in wonder. Now, I know, as much as I can know anything, that to travel into wonder is to be wonder. So it matters little whether I travel by plane, by rowboat, or by book. Or, by dream. I do not see, for there is no I to see. That is what the pirates know. There is only seeing and, in order to go to see, one must be a pirate.” ~ Kathy Acker

O great sea, how you call to me, with your beauty and danger and mystery. That a landlocked boy should feel such an affinity for a place and space that would always be out of his grasp is one of life’s conundrums, unsettled and unbalanced but no less beloved because of that. The call of the sea is a song I’ve had in my head since I first glimpsed its seaweed-strewn splendor as a child, and as the years go by I feel its pull evermore.

“There comes a time in a man’s life when he hears the call of the sea. “Hey, YOU!” are the sea’s exact words. If the man has a brain in his head, he will hang up the phone immediately.” ~ Dave Barry

I’m not taking life advice from Dave Barry, so this spring and summer’s theme for our trips to Boston will be the sea – in particular the Seaport – which has grown in leaps and bounds like the arms of a starfish. Where one has gone missing, another sprouts up again. It was the backdrop for the Spring Stroll I took with Kira recently, and will form part of an upcoming anniversary visit to Boston, and later our annual BroSox Adventure. Life events have been founded upon flimsier ideas – and the sea is anything but flimsy. It will more likely be a matter of trying to tame the power and might of an idea that has the immensity of its reality surging behind it – a reality that has never been defeated. Our shores and beaches are but barely holding their own, and that delicate line between land and water is tenuously held. Let that be our only drama, and let us enjoy it. 

“There is a fellowship more quiet even than solitude, and which, rightly understood, is solitude made perfect.” ~ Robert Louis Stevenson

Life is taking the busy turn that spring usually brings, and as I begin the daunting task of cleaning up the yard (and filling 50 lawn bags with the detritus and debris of winter) I pause to buy some time before diving into our first spring weekend in Boston. For now, enjoy these teaser shots – let them whet the appetite, and beckon more sun. The seaside adventures that Kira and I experienced a couple of weeks ago will be posted shortly… 

It will likely be our last Boston rendezvous before the official arrival of spring (cheers to that!) and as such an air of celebration and giddiness was in the atmosphere as I met up with Kira for a recent weekend in our beloved city. Peppered throughout this first part of the recap are quotes from Kira and bits of conversation that struck me as funny. You will likely be largely unamused, and to be fair you did kind of have to be there. No matter – it will crack me up writing them down again, so for my enjoyment, please indulge. 

The weekend began with my arrival at precisely 3 PM, so as to procure an available spot in one of the coveted visitor’s parking sections of a few nearby side streets. I found one quickly enough, then paused in the condo bedroom to take in the very best part of the day there, and to take this picture.

ME: Yes you are. Without the polka dots.

Catching up over dinner, we laughed and sunk back into the comfortable groove of a friendship going back well over two decades. Outside the wind whirled and scurried about in blustery charges against the brick, but within the condo all was glowing and warm as if Christmas had decided to come back for a quick second to see us through the remainder of winter. 

KIRA: That’s why we wear hats.

ME: You’ve never been afraid to look stupid in a hat.

The spell of hygge had been cast, and its emboldening enchantment worked its magic on our souls, healing and rebuilding what had been broken and bruised through the sheer act of surviving. Christmas lights still twinkled in the corners, and the scent of spicy candles lended another layer of warmth to the proceedings. 

We finished dinner, Kira had a spa shower, and we tried starting a movie but fell asleep before getting very far. Winter felt very distant at that moment, and the ills of the world felt miles away. One last quote from the next day, to give you a hint of what was still to come…

ME: Can you just fucking enjoy the moment?

KIRA: No, I can’t. I’m cold.