Pragmatik » boston

Ordinary milk.

Johnny — Fri, 05 Sep 2008 11:27:42 +0000

Skim milk in Boston’s Beacon Hill, August 2008. Photo Friday: The Ordinary.

It rained a lot in Boston.

Johnny — Fri, 22 Aug 2008 01:00:46 +0000

A lot. This was the end of the first day. But, while it was wet and while my sandals were full of grit and gook, it was cool. I wore a flannel that day, all day. That was pretty awesome.

The morning we were leaving, this little gal/guy came out in North Quincy. He was out further, but I scared him when I took his picture.

I’m back, early August edition.

Johnny — Mon, 11 Aug 2008 01:42:13 +0000

Got back home last night/this morning at about 2:30am. Took a nice cab back from Penn Station from Amtrak from Penn Station (NYC) from the Acela from South Station (Boston) from MBTA Commuter Rail to and from Concord from North Station (Boston) from Amtrak from Penn Station (Baltimore) from a late cab from my home from a cab that night from a concert at Pier Six. I slept like a rock that drank a case of beer last night. Seven and a half hours of the closest sleep to death I might ever have slept. That’s overly dramatic. But, seriously, that was good sleep.

We walked everywhere this week. All over the Inner Harbor/downtown Baltimore Tuesday. We walked to Walden Pond. Walked all around Boston, only taking the subway when rivers were involved (Quincy and Cambridge) and the train to Concord. Walked so much all over New York for two days that I should get to be on TV. We only got on the MTA subway once, to go from the garment district to the Natural History museum to save energy. Then from there through the park, through midtown, all the way to the village. Then back to midtown for our late train. That was after two walks from midtown to and around and through the village the day before.

Only one twisted ankle, one twisted foot (on the way out of the apartment and to the train station) and one broken/bleeding toenail. Not bad. I did a much better job of staying hydrated than I usually do when I travel, too, which is good. I’m not sitting here suffering through a mock hangover.

And we were smart enough to mail home the books we bought in Cambridge, dirty clothes and Walden Pond goodies/gifts from the post office right near South Station, since we literally carried everything for four days. We scored a lot of good reading, including two by my favorite other worshipper at the altar of the god of walkers. I’m stocked up until the cold comes, I think.

I hope I get time to post some photos soon. We had a great time, and I’m outta here again from Tuesday until Friday for “business” in Philly. I think I’ll get some freetime while I’m there, though, to explore a place I’ve really been wanting to go for a while.

Shipping up to Boston.

Johnny — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 16:49:12 +0000

Tomorrow, I go to a few meetings that are work-related. Then a concert at Pier Six at night. Then a 3:55am train to Boston! We’ll be in Beantown Wednesday and Thursday. Of course, I’ll be making my pilgrimage to Walden Pond, but I don’t think I’ll have time to take the long B Train out to where I went to school. We’re staying at the Adams Inn in North Quincy, right near where I lived for two years in North Quincy, a block from the beach.

Then we are taking the Acela Express to New York early Friday Morning, staying at The New Yorker and returning home to Baltimore late Saturday night. Two days at home, and then I’m off to Philly from the 12th to the 15th for some training. They I officially start my new job on the 18th.

Awesome all around, though it means most of two weeks away from my beloved bike.

To amuse yourself, check out the video to the awesome song by the Dropkick Murphys — who are from Quincy, where I actually lived.

Anatomy of Restlessness.

Johnny — Thu, 28 Feb 2008 17:41:20 +0000

I am finishing up Bruce Chatwin’s Anatomy of Restlessness. Being jobless and stuck in my apartment most days while Mrs. P is at work, I found this book both thrilling and depressing. I am a big Chatwin fan, but I especially enjoyed this posthumous publication because of the honesty of a few of the pieces, such as “I Always Wanted To Go To Patagonia” and a letter wherein he spells out the plan for his great book on nomadism/restlessness that never got written. I mean, Chatwin was a little…pretentious at times, such as when, in The Songlines, he spelled out how awesome his black notebooks were in such detail that an Italian company was able to reproduce them ten years later. I mean, I confess an addiction of sorts to those little treasures, so I think this is a good thing. But in an interview, maybe. In the main text? Pretentious? Or maybe brave? A little soul-baring? Chatwin says that the man he was talking to looked at him, when Chatwin told him about his precious notebooks, as if he had never heard anything more pretentious. Did that happen, or did old Bruce imagine that in some kind of self-consciousness?

Maybe even when he is fictionalizing his “stories” he was still honest to some degree, more so than one would believe when I started writing this post. Maybe he was a complete liar. I don’t know. Either way, you should still definitely check out this book. Or anything else by Chatwin you can get your hands on. I found this book, first edition, sitting on a stack when I walked into Normals one day this fall, after looking for that book for a long time. I exclaimed out-loud, “I’ve been looking for this! It’s like it was here just for me.”

But now I am restless. Very. When I read the first essay last week, I went shopping when I was pretty sick (and got sicker) because I could not stand the idea of staying home all day after reading something like that. Is that sad? I have finally gotten around to filling in a travel journal from our research trips in fall 2006. They were a bit of a pain at the time, when I was trying to get a dissertation written. But now I wish I could go back to New Haven for another chilly Friday morning wishing I brought something other than sandals. Or to New York for a thunderstorm on Broadway, ducking into the largest Barnes and Noble I have ever seen. Or to Boston, within a mile of where I lived for two years, remembering all things I loved and hated about that place. Hours at my favorite cafe’ there.

For now, I have to settle for books and other people’s experiences. And, of course, remembering my own.

[Larger images here.]