The title comes from a great song. It also is probably the best way to describe my weekend in Beantown. I had a great time tooling around America's Walking City. So if Boston was so great (though it had some down spots) where did the "grief" mentioned above come from? Yup, my Northwest flights.
On the way to Boston, the only real bad part of my flight was the woman sitting in the window seat in my row. See, Caroline and I couldn't sit together as the plane was full, so we both got aisles, and I sat behind her. I thought it was no big deal, but this woman thought it meant the end of our marriage. Whatever, anyway the flight from Minneapolis to Boston is about two hours and fifteen (maybe twenty) minutes. From the moment we sat on the plane, until we finally got off the plane, this woman (I call her cathy, because she's so feaking chatty) talked the entire time. She tried to talk to me, but I had a book that I buried myself into, but the pilot (deadhead for those in the know) sitting next to me had no such luck. I tried not to listen, but at one point she was talking about a sex workshop she and her third husband (Gary) went to in South Africa. The pilot kept looking over at me for help, but I wasn't going to be sucked in. No, no, no, no.
Boston, itself, was great. It was, however, wicked hot. Saturday was 95, and Sunday was 94. The news stations were almost pleading with people to wear sunscreen. "We here at Fox 25 don't want you to get cancer, so please: where sunscreen." It was sad and funny at the same time.
The city, if you have never been, is really compact and features some amazing history and some fantastic restaurants. I found it sad that this one Canadien (or Canadian for the Quebec-ers) couple told us they hadn't had any seafood while in Boston (about a week). There were no allegeries (so they said), they just chose to not eat seafood. Honestly that's like going to Kansas City and not having Bar-B-Q (or barbeque for you spelling Nazis). That's not right.
Anyway, the city is gorgeous. Perhaps the oddest portion of our trip, however, was the trolley tour guide we had. We decided on Saturday to hop on one of the trolleys for a driving tour of Boston. Besides the fact that he sounded and looked like Cliff Clavin (from Cheers). I think he was also drunk, because half of what he said made no sense, and the other half was more personal anecdotes. I mean I love hearing about the best pub in town, but did I need to hear about losing your virginity in the back booth? I don't think so. Stick to the history and trivia. He also got surly if you didn't leave a tip. Here he is chasing down a 70 year old lady, because she got off the trolley and didn't drop a buck. The funny part is that I don't think he saw the pepper spary in her left hand. She never used it, but it was ready.
The New England Aquarium was alot of fun, though I never realized how angry and evil penguins really are. I always thought penquins were like Opus from Bloom County. I was very wrong. As the aquarium volunteer cleaned the habitat, she was attacked over and over again. Her wetsuit took the brunt of it, but she did get one finger caught, and she yelped. Penguins are great, but would be terrible pets (think of the most psycho cat and make it shorter, meaner, and wetter).
The Black Rose Pub may look quaint on the outside, but inside are some serious drinkers. Caroline and I ran into two locals (Neil and Tom) who wanted us to drink away the rest of the day with them. I embarrassed my lovely wife by slipping into a Boston accent about ten minutes into our conversations. I can't help it, I pick up accents really fast. Neil, a landlord, tried very hard to convince us to move into one of his apartments next Thursday. Somehow, I don't think we can move that quickly. Still, Mrs. Leab really wants to move to the east coast sooner than later, so we'll see.
The other annoying part of the trip was the flight back. Once again, I wasn't sitting with my wife, but that's ok. No I was more annoyed at the woman in front of me. You see, the guy sitting next to me was Swiss and was having a really bad day. He had been traveling for fourteen hours and had one more flight to go after he made it to MSP. He was tired, his English was slipping, and he needed to get to the bathroom. I was on the aisle, so I stood up and moved out. The woman in front of him was leaned all the way back and had made it hard for him to get out. In order to move, he had to push off her seat. She, of course, flipped out. After cursing him out, she then told him to apologize. However, she was talking to fast, and he couldn't keep up, so he smiled, said, "ok," and kept going. She (we'll call her 31 E) wouldn't leave him alone, and refused to move forward to help him get out. I told him (in German) to wait and asked her politely to move (in English). Now, I'm a semi-reasonable man. You act polite, so will I. You cross me, I'll bury you. It's the way of the world (in my mind). She told me to, "mind my own fucking business. Who do you think you are?" My new neutral friend looked like he was going to pee his pants, and she was being unreasonable, so I leaned forward, over the guy in 31 D (who had taken out someone else's bag from the overhead bin and said, "my bag won't fit in here while your bag is here.") and said in a low rumble, "I'm the guy who's going to break your seat and fold you in half unless you move forward. Now stop being the ugly American, make us look good, and move forward." Apparently, I must have gotten through to her, because she zipped forward. She also ended up changing seat with a friend of hers further back in the plane. Could I have gotten in trouble? Sure, but the guy was having a really bad day. I knew she wasn't, because she told her friend she gets what she wants. Oh well.
So, if you need a place to vacation or visit for just a weekend, I recommend Boston. Of course, I would say go to New York first (that's my hometown, folks), but Boston is great. The history alone is enough to fill a week. So get out there and travel.
No comments:
Post a Comment