In the meantime, feel free to check out or even link to one of our other blogs: Anyone But Romney in 2008.

Hope to be back up again soon…

Thank God.

He wore a Martha’s Vineyard T-shirt of a light blue color, a summer hue, which was tucked neatly into his shorts. His shorts were not flashy, certainly cheap, and they suited him. This was his outfit on weeknights as it was on weekends, a uniform of sorts, comfortable and consistent. His face was round and full– even too round, too full. His eyes, solemn and weary, were his only remarkable feature. They were eyes that spoke of a life filled with numerous small hardships, domestic trials, complications and compromises. His hairline had receded for a decade, from age 40 until age 50, and then stopped. It had marched backwards to the crown of his head, where what hair remained flowed gently to the back of his neck, though in no design or style. He no longer looked on younger men and women with scorn or lust; he had longer given up returning to any form of life that was lived by rules of fashion or popularity. He had witnessed youth wrinkle and strength become frailty. Our man took his coffee black, has he had since college, and always after dinner. What had begun as ritual became routine and was carried into middle age on inertia alone. There was no special significance in his nightly coffee; it repeated day after day simply because it had for so many years.

“Your total is $3.17, sir.” The counter boy said, returning to the register and pushing the coffee and the pastry forward. “Yes. $3.17″ The man repeated as he counted out the exact change. He always had exact change. He sat down, our man, with his coffee and his double fudge toffee bar and settled into to a chair at the back of the cafe where he always sat. He read through the local paper– a small inconsequential rag good for gossip and the off-key opinions of his neighbors. The paper was finished hurriedly and set aside, and our man sat back in his chair and slowly sipped from his coffee. His solemn and weary eyes intensified somehow and became like windows into a particular kind of pain. The longer he sat and stared the more dignified he became, our man, and the more motionless, still, lifeless. What is his pain? What circumstances, what kind of blind inertia has brought this man to this moment?

He stared, his eyes transfixed on some unidentifiable point, for several minutes on end. To anyone watching, it must have seemed longer. Watching him it was nearly impossible not to conclude that a man like him could go on sitting that way for hours, even days, and hardly notice himself growing older.

His coffee finished, our man left the cafe and drove the two miles home. As on every other night since his wife’s cancer had returned, and so as not to disturb her, he parked the car on the street and entered the house through the small garden at the back. He would move the car to the garage later, after she went down for the night in their bedroom upstairs.

While he went out for coffee, she would doze off in her wheelchair to re-runs of game shows, exhausted by the battle being fought inside her body. He would approach her with soft steps and call out quietly, “Sarah. Sarah, darling, I’m home now.” She would remain silent, sleeping. He would always kiss her on her pale brow; she would always wake up then. Drowsy and disoriented at first, she would quickly become consciousness and lucid. Her green eyes would settle on his– on his deep, world-weary, loving eyes– and she would feel a strong life force move between them.

The man bent down, brushed aside his wife’s hair and kissed her gently, tenderly. She would not wake up this time; her eyes would never again open. He took up her hand in his, and tightly, he held it. He held it to his check and then to his lips. He held it there, this soft, delicate thing, kissing and caressing it slowly, slowly, forever more slowly . . .

All photos courtesy of Usemycomputer.com.

It’s been a longtime coming, and in my heart, I’d hoped it would have been a foregone conclusion. But it was a long, hard fight. Equal marriage is finally safe in Massachusetts, thanks to the untiring efforts of activists, legislators and ordinary people who acted on their belief that their fellow citizens should not be denied equal rights. You’ll have to forgive my run-on sentences, as I’m both out of practice and a little bit giddy about today’s results. Finally, I thought this picture (via papel-blog) was worth sharing with the few people who haven’t seen it:

I suppose this means the Sox will be getting their hands on that trophy again this October. Talk about a two-fer.

USA Ranking on Adult Literacy Scale: #9
(#1 Sweden and #2 Norway)- OECD

USA Ranking on Healthcare Quality Index: #37
(#1 France and #2 Italy)- World Health Organization 2003

USA Ranking of Student Reading Ability: #12
(#1 Finland and #2 South Korea)- OECD PISA 2003

USA Ranking of Student Problem Solving Ability: #26
(#1 South Korea and #2 Finland)- OECD PISA 2003

USA Ranking on Student Mathematics Ability: # 24
(#1 Hong Kong and #2 Finland)- OECD PISA 2003

USA Ranking of Student Science Ability: #19
(#1 Finland and #2 Japan)- OECD PISA 2003

USA Ranking on Women’s Rights Scale: #17
(#1 Sweden and #2 Norway)- World Economic Forum Report

USA Position on Timeline of Gay Rights Progress: # 6 (1997)
(#1 Sweden 1987 and #2 Norway 1993)- Vexen

USA Ranking on Life Expectancy: #29
(#1 Japan and #2 Hong Kong)- UN Human Development Report 2005

USA Ranking on Journalistic Press Freedom Index: #32
(#1 Finland, Iceland, Norway and the Netherlands tied)- Reporters Without Borders 2005

USA Ranking on Political Corruption Index: #17
(#1 Iceland and #2 Finland)- Transparency International 2005

USA Ranking on Quality of Life Survey: #13
(#1 Ireland and #2 Switzerland)- The Economist Magazine …Wikipedia “Celtic Tiger” if you still have your doubts.

USA Ranking on Environmental Sustainability Index: #45
(#1 Finland and #2 Norway)- Yale University ESI 2005

USA Ranking on Overall Currency Strength: #3 (US Dollar)
(#1 UK pound sterling and #2 European Union euro)- FTSE 2006….the dollar is now a liability, so many banks worldwide have planned to switch to euro

USA Ranking on Infant Mortality Rate: #32
(#1 Sweden and #2 Finland)- Save the Children Report 2006

USA Ranking on Human Development Index (GDP, education, etc.): #10
(#1 Norway and #2 Iceland)- UN Human Development Report 2005

But we sure as heck can invade the crap out of your country, and we are pretty damn good at leaving it in shambles and causing a major civil war.

1. One that is made to bear the blame of others.

2. Bible: A live goat over whose head Aaron confessed all the sins of the children of Israel on the Day of Atonement. The goat, symbolically bearing their sins, was then sent into the wilderness.

3.

From Reuters:

WASHINGTON - Former vice presidential aide Lewis “Scooter” Libby was sentenced on Tuesday to 30 months in prison for lying and obstructing investigators during a probe tied to the Iraq war.

I am not about to come out and say he shouldn’t get 30 days for this one, after all he is a pretty big weasel, and chooses to go by “Scooter.” C’mon, if you are over 16 and people are still calling “Scooter,” you are not to be trusted with national secrets. Period.

That being said, I am not about to make this post or the rest of my “Boston era” posts about what I dislike about New England (I’m saving that for a forthcoming book), rather I am going to try to post regularly over the next few months about the people, places and things that I love about New England in general, and the Boston area specifically. From Fenway to Kelly’s Roast Beef, there are so many things that I love and will dearly miss about this area. I hope write a post every week that features a person, place or thing that I wish honor, as well as feature for others to enjoy in my absence over the coming years.

Winthrop, MA

On the map it looks like a little hook coming down off of Eastie. Only 8.3sq miles in area, including a golf course, Winthrop, MA is many things to many people, and has been an important part of my life for as long as I can remember. I have 3 grandparents buried there, my parents met at Winthop High and it is the place where I first learned to respect the roast beef sandwich. Winthrop is home of the Deer Island waste treatment center (which is actually part of Boston), constant jet noise and near-death flyovers. I spent large chunks of my summers and free weekends roaming the streets of that small town while I was growing up, and will always consider it a second hometown.

One of the more notable landmarks in this little town is the beach. In comparison to other beaches, Winthrop beach is relatively commercially undeveloped, with a majority of the “beach front” property still occupied by family homes, and a beach predominantly occupied by locals. Winthrop beach in the summer is something out of fiction; quite possibly the melanoma capital of the world (skin cancer may have been first diagnosed here), at any given time there are at least 30 overweight bronzed men in Speedos (who seem to think they are in Miami in the 1950’s) strutting on the beach wall, flashing their “guns,” intermingling with families, bikers and a never ending supply of seniors who walk up and down Shore Drive. Over the past 26 years, I have spent at least 1 day every summer at Winthrop Beach. I have seen people get arrested for letting a little too much fall out of their shorts, found a hunting knife in the sand at age 5, and can remember when you could swim in the water, then when you couldn’t and am glad now that you can again.

When I think about leaving the area for good, Winthrop is one of the first things that comes to mind. The beach is rarely crowded, except for a scorching weekend day, and a visit involves far less drama than nearby Revere Beach. So, if you are looking for a beach experience that doesn’t involve the Bourne or Sagamore Bridges, may I suggest a day in Winthrop, parking on Shore Drive free and meterless.

Some of Jerry’s finer moments:

“I really believe that the pagans, and the abortionists, and the feminists, and the gays and the lesbians who are actively trying to make that an alternative lifestyle, the ACLU, People For the American Way, all of them who have tried to secularize America. I point the finger in their face and say ‘you helped this happen.” -Falwell blaming civil libertarians for the terrorist attacks of Tuesday, September 11, 2001.

“Christians, like slaves and soldiers, ask no questions”

“AIDS is not just God’s punishment for homosexuals; it is God’s punishment for the society that tolerates homosexuals”

“Billy Graham is the chief servant of Satan in America”

“Textbooks are Soviet propaganda”

“[homosexuals are] brute beasts…part of a vile and satanic system [that] will be utterly annihilated, and there will be a celebration in heaven.”
Not that you’ll be there to celebrate with them, Jerry.

—UPDATE—

Christopher Hitchens on Falwell’s death:

“The empty life of this ugly little charlatan proves only one thing, that you can get away with the most extraordinary offenses to morality and to truth in this country if you will just get yourself called reverend. Who would, even at your network, have invited on such a little toad to tell us that the attacks of September the 11th were the result of our sinfulness and were God’s punishment if they hadn’t got some kind of clerical qualification? People like that should be out in the street, shouting and hollering with a cardboard sign and selling pencils from a cup. The whole consideration of this horrible little person is offensive to very, very many of us who have some regard for truth and for morality, and who think that ethics do not require that lies be told to children by evil old men…”

Here’s a link to old Hitch talking about Falwell on Fox and making Hannity look like chump.

Dear Guy Brushing His Teeth At Park Street Station This Morning,

That shit is gross. Teeth brushing is a bathroom activity, please keep it there. I don’t care how late you are for your meeting that probably isn’t that important. Keep that shit to yourself.

And while we are on the subject of the train: 1) Dear god, guy with huge backpack and blasting iPod, please wait until everyone exits the train until you begin pushing your way on. I’m bigger than you and not afraid to ruin both of our days. 2) Flip-flops on the train are gross. 3) Please don’t touch me.

While I don’t want to belittle the crisis of epic proportions that is happening in Western Sudan, and I fully recognize that if this were happening to white, Anglo, folks that the genocide never would have gotten to the level that it is at right now—But I get the point already: Fidelity invests in Darfur. They clearly shouldn’t. But I don’t invest in Darfur, nor is any of my money invested with Fidelity. So why do I need to see the unbelievably depressing picture of the starving child as I get of the train in the morning. Shouldn’t those be outside of Fidelity headquarters or offices? How much of the money spent on that advertising campaign could have gone to the people of Darfur?

College students: I know that it is the end of the year. I know that you need to get wasted to get over those rough 10-hour weeks that you have been putting in. Please go back to the suburbs soon, this whole end of the year, being loud and wasted thing is getting a little old–also, Dave Matthews Band, as well as that shitty pop song that you like so much, sucks.

Someone please tell the lady in front of me dropping $50.00 on scratch tickets at 7-11, that she isn’t going to win, “the big one.”

For what seems like the 1000^th time since his campaign started, what? Three years ago? I just want to scream, “shut up, Mitt Romney!” I can’t remember when there has been a bigger phony running for office. No wait…I can.