We spent the weekend in Manhattan, so lovely and fantastic in general but especially so as Fashion Week was beginning and the French/European contingent was in full force. I own no articles of designer apparel though I certainly appreciate the design and skill involved in its creation. I made my family walk down much of 5th Avenue. Beautiful clothes made for beautiful people. Not us hearty, husky, Bostonians.
More often than in past visits, the rich were highly visible. The trophy wives, socialites, debs, and nouveau riche. Daughters of America for sure. Most were blond as apparently in high class circles it is definitely still "in," despite the wisdom from my hairdresser Kio that brown is "it." Blond, thin, princesses. Some Euro but mostly American. My daughters could even identify them (though not appreciate their fashion forwardness) exclaiming, "their sunglasses are huge."
We bounded back to Boston and its eternal ugliness with haste as the Super Bowl was also beginning. Another land where rich princesses run around in fancy costumes. But seriously, even I could appreciate the competition of last night's game. And when the last few plays showed our hero, Tom Brady, hurtling the ball dozens of yards we had dreams of a miracle connection in our minds and hearts. A fairytale ending for our beloved Patriots. But it wasn't meant to be this year. Instead we witnessed the end to their perfect season. Somehow it feels very fitting.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Monday, January 28, 2008
Another Monday
I rode the MBTA, www.mbta.com, in to work today as I have nearly every workday for the past ten years. Over the decade I've regularly taken the red, orange, green and blue lines, varying by two factors: the location of my cubicle or office; and, the strength of my desire to walk outside. Actually three factors because if someone's gotten sick or peed, I'm also out of there as quickly as possible. And that does happen more often than you'd think.
People complain about the T incessantly and for godsake, there are definite improvements to be made. See www.ace-ej.org and the T Riders Union for more info about the basic upgrades our Boston community organizers are asking for. Today however, I realized something I genuinely appreciate about the T: their automated train announcements. In select stations a gentleman kindly broadcasts a first hint of an impending ride, "Attention Passengers. The train to Alewife is now Approaching." Approximately thirty seconds later, the gentleman airs his second pronouncement, "Attention Passengers. The train to Alewife is now Arriving." And he doesn't have an impenetrable Boston accent. He sounds more like he's from the midWest.
For whatever my internal clock seems to be governed by this announcement such that I almost always hear the first announcement, the Approach, just as I'm passing through the ticket gates, approximately 10 staircases away from the proper train platform. Hence I'm now conditioned to begin running when I hear the gentleman, booking it up or down the stairs with little caution, blasting past tourists who frequent my stop and dazedly stand in front of the rainbow spider T map looking for some way out. Usually I'm at the platform or on the final staircase when The Arrival is announced.
I love these announcements. I love the strong yet personal tone. The use of eloquent title, "Passenger," as if the T ride is some zen trip. We're all Passengers, dig it? This seems so much more appropriate than the equestrian-sounding "Rider," or Governorial "Commuter." And the the precision in alerting passengers as to when the train is Approaching vs. when it is Arriving--I think that's truly a Boston phenom. For the T knows that we Passengers are a extremely astute population requiring this level of specification. Bravo T, Bravo!
People complain about the T incessantly and for godsake, there are definite improvements to be made. See www.ace-ej.org and the T Riders Union for more info about the basic upgrades our Boston community organizers are asking for. Today however, I realized something I genuinely appreciate about the T: their automated train announcements. In select stations a gentleman kindly broadcasts a first hint of an impending ride, "Attention Passengers. The train to Alewife is now Approaching." Approximately thirty seconds later, the gentleman airs his second pronouncement, "Attention Passengers. The train to Alewife is now Arriving." And he doesn't have an impenetrable Boston accent. He sounds more like he's from the midWest.
For whatever my internal clock seems to be governed by this announcement such that I almost always hear the first announcement, the Approach, just as I'm passing through the ticket gates, approximately 10 staircases away from the proper train platform. Hence I'm now conditioned to begin running when I hear the gentleman, booking it up or down the stairs with little caution, blasting past tourists who frequent my stop and dazedly stand in front of the rainbow spider T map looking for some way out. Usually I'm at the platform or on the final staircase when The Arrival is announced.
I love these announcements. I love the strong yet personal tone. The use of eloquent title, "Passenger," as if the T ride is some zen trip. We're all Passengers, dig it? This seems so much more appropriate than the equestrian-sounding "Rider," or Governorial "Commuter." And the the precision in alerting passengers as to when the train is Approaching vs. when it is Arriving--I think that's truly a Boston phenom. For the T knows that we Passengers are a extremely astute population requiring this level of specification. Bravo T, Bravo!
Sunday, January 27, 2008
1/27/08 First Blog
First step, first word, first friend, first broken arm, first enemy, first brother, first day of school, first sister, first dance, first date, first love, first heartbreak, first death of a friend, first depression, first job, first husband, first house, first child, first time caring for a dying parent, first business, and now
first blog entry.
first blog entry.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)