the Great Flood of 2010

I don't care if it's not official yet--I'm declaring this one Great anyway. It's been raining for three days, and while I haven't yet heard any official totals, what can be seen with the naked eye is pretty darn impressive. Entire branches of the T system were unable to run, and buses were trying to shuttle people in to work. It's amazing that in a culture so accepting of snow days we can't call a "flood day" when things are so bad. The trains have just as much trouble in current conditions as in heavy snow, and yet everyone is expected to slog through and get to work. About half of my photo archives class was absent today because they either couldn't make it into town or they had to stay home to deal with flooded basements.

I didn't leave campus at all yesterday, so I missed some of the excitement, but the news this morning was ridiculous. The above ground stops of the Green Line weren't running for several hours, and the Fenway T stop was completely shut down. They even put up a dam of sandbags to keep the muddy river creek (which crested at 15' above it's usual level) from sending water down into the subway tunnels. Below is a photograph of the barricade from the MBTA Flickr account.


This next picture (also courtesy the MBTA) is of a section of track on the Green Line between Chestnut Hill and Newton Centre that completely lost its support when a sinkhole opened underneath it. Read the full details here.


This next one I took myself when Christina and I wandered over to the park after class. Our usual route to the Longwood T stop is completely underwater. The trains are running again now, as the train in the back of the photo shows, but you have to take a much longer route to get to the station. Going on this photo expedition, I learned my rain boots are no longer perfectly waterproof. Sad day. Oh, and apparently the Charles River is overflowing its banks as well.


And the worst part? Metro Boston got off easy compared to a lot of other towns in the area. Allan Parish was right, a little rain never hurt anybody "but a lot can kill you." Let's pray the rain really does stop tomorrow so we can start putting things back together.

-Kim

And just for the sake of irony, I have one more thing to share. As I was writing this my iTunes was on shuffle, and several water related songs came up. But the one that really made me laugh was "Flood" by Jars of Clay. In case you don't know the words, here they are. Now you can all share in the irony.

"Flood"

Rain, rain on my face
It hasn't stopped raining for days
My world is a flood
Slowly I become one with the mud

Chorus:
But if I can't swim after forty days
And my mind is crushed by the thrashing waves
Lift me up so high that I cannot fall
Lift me up
Lift me up - when I'm falling
Lift me up - I'm weak and I'm dying
Lift me up - I need you to hold me
Lift me up - Keep me from drowning again

Downpour on my soul
Splashing in the ocean, I'm losing control
Dark sky all around
I can't feel my feet touching the ground

[Chorus]

Calm the storms that drench my eyes
Dry the streams still flowing
Cast down all the waves of sin
And guilt that overthrow me

[Chorus]

Lift me up - when I'm falling
Lift me up - I'm weak and I'm dying
Lift me up - I need you to hold me
Lift me up - Keep me from drowning again

parade fail

March 14 is Pi Day. This year, it was also the date of the annual South Boston St. Patrick's Day Parade. Unfortunately, this weekend a Nor'easter blew through New England. The rain was pouring down all day, and the wind made it come horizontally. And yet the parade went on. Here's a picture from the boston.com website of what the conditions were like:


After much deliberation, my friends and I decided that rather than get soaked and risk getting sick at possibly the most inopportune time of the semester, we would stay in and watch it on TV. However, after much painstaking research and phone calls to both the Mayor's hotline (the guy who answered the phone was rather rude when he told me they had nothing to do with the parade, in spite of the fact that boston.com advertised that we could phone the hotline for news of the parade) and the official parade phone number, we learned that the only station that would be broadcasting the parade was New England Cable News (NECN), which is not included in the Simmons dorm cable package.

With that sad discovery, we decided to make the day as Irish as we could to make up for it. After much deliberation and searching through the available movies on Netflix instant download for any related to or filmed in Ireland, we decided on one that Sara owns, "The Secret of Roan Inish." It was a very fun movie full of adorable accents and beautiful music. Here we are getting ready to enjoy the show, still decked out in our very green finery:


I just hope that there will still be some Irish fun to be had on the holiday itself and that Boston did not expend all its fervor on one dreary, blustery parade day.

-Kim

enjoy the small things

I love living in Boston. I have had the opportunity to do the most amazing things in the past year, simply by virtue of residing in this great city. Yesterday, that meant getting a great new haircut for only $5 from the beauty school downtown. Tonight, that meant getting a free pass to an advance screening of the new zombie comedy "Zombieland."

This afternoon I was at an event called CollegeFest with Christina and Adrienne collecting free stuff from random vendors. One of the booths had posters for the movie, and a giand cardboard clown head. We threw a ball through the clown's mouth, and the prize was a free pass to the advance screening tonight at the downtown movie theater. Needless to say, we were pretty stoked.

In the end, five of us went to the show. We were a bit concerned about getting in, since these events almost always have more passes than seats in order to ensure a full house, but we were early enough to not have any problem getting in, though we did grab the last five seats together in the whole place, other than the very front rows.

Even just being there was quite the experience. Most of the people in the crowd had come in zombie makeup, some with very extravagant costumes as well. And two rows behind us, there was a zombie band, playing their ukulele and melodica to entertain us all as we waited.

I'd just like to say here that when Bostonians do something, they never do it by half measures. These people go all-out for every occasion. And apparently the zombie sub-culture across the nation is the same way. The crowd had a few more regular folks like us than it might have because of the passes being given out at CollegeFest, but they were still a rowdy force to be reckoned with. I've never seen so much fake blood in one place before. Granted, I've never been to a zombie walk, so that's probably why.

And the coolest part of the night? After the movie two of the stars, Woody Harelson and Jesse Eisenberg came out to do a Q&A! So very cool. Best question: what would you do if there was a real zombie apocalypse? "Make a sequel."

As for the movie itself, it was pretty entertaining. It earned the "R" rating for language and the most realistic and disgusting gore I've seen in a zombie flick. So don't see it if you don't like zombie movies or have trouble seeing gore. Although, the worst visuals are right at the beginning, and then it focuses on the actual story. Yes, this is a zombie flick with some semblance of plot. If you liked "Shaun of the Dead" and don't have a weak stomach, you'll probably like "Zombieland." Do see it if you enjoy dark comedy. There's also a lot of lighter comedy, and one phenomenal cameo that I absolutely will not give away. Some moments were even heartwarming. I loved Jesse Eisenberg as the narrator, and the animated text visuals of his zombie survival rules. Also, whoever thought of putting zombies and amusement parks together is an absolute genius.

If I say any more I stand the risk of ruining the experience for any of my readers who want to see "Zombieland" when it comes out next weekend. So I'll end this post with just one more thought: I love living in a place where this sort of event happens all the time, and every so often even happens to me.

-Kim

Boston Red Sox

Last week I went to my very first major league sporting event. By volunteering to take surveys in the crowd before the game, I got free entrance to a Red Sox game at Fenway Park. The tickets were for standing room only, but I got to watch the game for free, so I still think it's a good deal.

I've never really cared about baseball before, but this was fun. Even though the Sox lost. The crowd had so much energy, better even than a USF homecoming football game. These people love their team, and it shows.

Here are a few action shots from the game. I'm not much of a sports photographer, but some of them turned out pretty well. First is Justin Masterson pitching. He's my default favorite player on the basis of my actually knowing who he was before the start of the season because he spoke at Park Street Church back in February.


I don't actually remember who this is batting, I just like how the photo turned out.



And lastly, the big man Ortiz at bat, hitting a foul ball. Even he couldn't pull us out for a win.



And now, I think I am a member of the Red Sox Nation. It was probably inevitable, with me living only a few blocks from the stadium. At the game I ate ice cream out of a plastic Red Sox hat, and a few days later went to Build A Bear Workshop with my parents and got a bear in the home team white uniform, who I named Justin because their online bear registration demanded that I name him immediately.

Everybody needs a team to root for and get excited about, and now I've found mine. That is, when I remember to pay attention to the sport at all.

-Kim

July 4, 2009, Boston

The Fourth of July came to Boston in spectacular fashion and made for an amazingly busy day. First, there was the Freedom Trail. In total, we got fewer people than the day before, but that was partly because we had to close early for a wedding. In the middle of the morning we had another fun event: a recreation of the first public singing of the song "America" (aka, My Country 'tis of Thee) on the steps of the church. It premiered there on July 4, 1831, sung by the children of the Park Street Church Sunday school (which, by the way, was one of the first in the nation and was begun to teach poor children who couldn't afford to go to school how to read a write). I took a bit of video, but conditions on the street were less than perfect, so I didn't record all 4 verses. Yes, there are 4 verses, not just the one that everyone knows.

My country, 'tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee I sing;
Land where my fathers died,
Land of the pilgrims' pride,
From every mountainside
Let freedom ring!

My native country, thee,

Land of the noble free,

Thy name I love;

I love thy rocks and rills,

Thy woods and templed hills;

My heart with rapture thrills,

Like that above.

Let music swell the breeze,

And ring from all the trees

Sweet freedom's song;

Let mortal tongues awake;

Let all that breathe partake;

Let rocks their silence break,

The sound prolong.

Our father's God to Thee,

Author of liberty,

To Thee we sing.

Long may our land be bright,

With freedom's holy light,

Protect us by Thy might,

Great God our King.

Also in the course of the morning, an honor guard came to the Granary Burial Ground to salute the patriots buried within with a musket salute and by playing Taps. Since we weren't busy at the time, I stood on the church steps to watch. A man who appeared to be homeless asked what was going on, and after I explained what I thought it was, he told me I was beautiful, then asked if I was Irish, because "the Irish are very beautiful people." So random. Since he left right afterward, I decided he wasn't creepy.

Once we got the church cleaned up for the wedding, I was off to see what else the city had to offer for the holiday. I snagged some more free stuff at Government Center and then hopped on the T to head out to a birthday party for Calvin Coolidge organized by a fellow Simmons student. After that I needed a nap in order to make it to the fireworks that night.

I went to the fireworks show with Christina and Jen, and we staked out a place on the Boston side of the river. The only problem with our spot was an awkwardly placed streetlight, which we didn't notice until it was too late, having arrived when it was still light out. Jen brought along a radio, and we listened to the live broadcast of the Boston Pops concert while we waited. And as the fireworks display itself was timed to music, the radio was necessary to enjoy the show to the full extent.

The fireworks are launched from a barge on the Charles River, and they make awesome reflections on the water. I'm so glad I saw it in person, though my mother assures me it was also impressive on TV. Below is a short clip of the fireworks finale for you to enjoy.

And the best part of this weekend? It's been raining for the past month, and long-range forecasts had been dismal for this weekend as well, but the weather was perfect! I would have been sorry to miss what is probably the only Fourth of July I'll get to spend in Boston for something as silly as a thunderstorm.

-Kim

July 3, 2009

The Fourth of July is not a single day in Boston. Rather, the festivities go on all week, and, frankly year-round. But the weekend of the Fourth is a whole different level of patriotism. Boston's Harborfest overlaps the Fourth, providing a vast number of activities that I couldn't begin to take advantage of properly, especially with my work schedule. But I did what I could, and it's been an amazing weekend!

On July 3, we had over 2,000 visitors to Park Street Church on the Freedom Trail. That was a busy day, let me tell you! After work, I made my way down to the Charles River esplanade, where the Hatch Memorial Shell is. There, the Boston Pops were going to do a dress rehearsal for the Fourth of July concert. The dress rehearsal is a lot less crowded than the actual event, so it made sense to go for that instead. Even so, there was a huuuuuge line to get in. I waited about 45 minutes to get my wristband and get into the area in front of the stage to stake out a place to sit. I ended up a ways back, but with a decent line of sight. The only problem with my location was that I was one of the few people who didn't have a lawn chair. I could still see because there was a paved path in front of me that had to be kept clear, but that didn't stop people from stepping on me. That's right, other concertgoers saw my spot as a perfect path through the lawn chairs and were continually stepping on the edge of my tarp (a used plastic tablecloth I snagged from church) and, if I happened to be standing to stretch my legs, in the center of it. Very rude. The worst, though, was when I lay down for a while to rest (I got my spot more than 3 hours before the concert actually started). I heard noise and opened my eyes to see a man stepping directly over my head! The gay couple next to me acted offended for me, as I was too shocked to react before the man had moved on.

In spite of the awkwardness of waiting for the concert, it was definitely worth the trouble. Not only did I get to see the Boston Pops, but Neil Diamond performed as well! And Craig Ferguson was hosting. I will never again have the opportunity to hear Neil Diamond sing "Sweet Caroline" live for free--that just doesn't happen!

And because I know many of you, my readers, envy the opportunity I had, I took the liberty of recording a few short video clips of the concert for you to enjoy. First up is a portion of Tschaikovsky's 1812 Overture.

Next is Neil Diamond singing what has become the official song of the Boston Redsox, "Sweet Caroline."

And finally, Boston Pops playing "The Stars and Stripes Forever"

It was great fun, and the celebration doesn't stop here. The Fourth itself will be posted next!

-Kim

constant rain

The entire month of June was a grey, soggy mess in Boston. Though the sun peeked through a few times, the days were largely overcast, unseasonably cool and rainy. The ten day forecast shows hope ahead, but I've been jilted by the weather man before. Good weather for the Fourth is all I'm concerned with now. It's a huge holiday here in Boston, and I mean to enjoy it fully. Boston Pops will be playing an outdoor concert, complete with cannons for the 1812 Overture, and a massive fireworks show is set to go off over the Charles River. They do it every year, but this is the only time I'll be here to see it. You can see it too, even if you're not within T distance of the river. The concert will be broadcast on CBS starting at 10/9 central. There's also a preview concert the day before, which is supposed to be much less crowded, so I'm hoping the rain hold off that day too!

-Kim

John Williams

On Tuesday night I attended what was probably one of the best concerts of my life: Boston Pops in Symphony hall playing the music of John Williams, conducted by the man himself. I've been geeking out about it ever since a friend bought the tickets weeks ago. It was kind of expensive, even to sit in the upper balcony, but well worth the price. And the seats were actually very good. Last time I attended a concert in this hall, I was on the ground floor, off to the side and wasn't impressed by the acoustics. This time, though we were well above the stage, we were in the very center of the balcony, which gave us an incredible view, and provided a much more pleasant acoustic experience. While the last time I was there the music almost sounded far away, this time it flowed around us. I'm a fan of the balcony. Here's what our view was like:


(The lighting was colorful throughout the concert, and it changed for each piece to set the mood. The projection screen was only down before the concert and during intermission to advertise other Pops events this summer.)

I went to the concert with Adam, Vita and Kristen. Rather than risk being late, we walked to the hall early and made it to our seats a full half hour before the concert began. I passed the time reading the concert notes and taking random pictures of the hall and the musicians beginning to gather on the stage. As the time neared, an usher rather loudly reminded our section that photography was not allowed during the concert. But as she then disappeared, I took a chance and snapped a photo as John Williams began conducting the first piece. It's a bit crooked, but I love that my zoom could get this close of a picture at all. There he is, John Williams in all his conducting glory:


After snagging my one photo, I settled back to enjoy the performance. The opening piece was "Hooray for Hollywood," something I didn't recognize, but it set a good tone for the movie-themed concert. The second piece was March from The Adventures of Robin Hood (not a Williams piece, but good nonetheless), for which the lighting turned green to invoke Sherwood Forrest.

Next was Williams' own Suite from Jane Eyre. (I keep running into Jane. First, a facebook quiz told me that out of all the Classic female heroines I am Jane Eyre, then, at a friend's suggestion I began reading the Thursday Next series, the first of which is all about the novel, and now this. I think I'll have to reread that one this summer.) The music was touching, but I was astounded by and embarrassed for the audience when they began to applaud between movements. I got used to that happening at home occasionally, but I would have thought that Boston concert audiences would have been better trained. More embarrassing, however, was the fact that instead of catching on and not clapping after the second movement, more people joined in. I realize that the Pops concerts are supposed to be more informal--they have tables and serve food on the orchestra level, even--but it's a sign of courtesy and respect for the performers to not interrupt the piece and hold our wild applause until the end. Mr. Williams seemed to handle it well, but I still can't believe it happened.

Following was Flight to Neverland, from Hook. The playful piece restored my good mood, momentarily broken by the uncouth audience. Throughout this piece, and others, I found myself torn between watching the violins and watching the conductor. I always pay special attention to the violin section, watching their bows fly and their fingers dance up and down the neck of the violin at blinding speed and with breathtaking accuracy, feeling a connection with the masters of the instrument I love and merely play at in comparison. But Williams was the star of the night. he went through the full range of conducting movements, from tiny flicks of the baton to great surges in sound indicated by raising both arms to their fullest extent. But he never bothered with just keeping the beat. Instead, he focused on the swells, the changes, the cues, the abrupt stops and tempo changes, the flowing cantabile sections that defy strict rhythm. I wonder how it would feel to be under his direction. If I ever managed to get over my admiration and fear, would I feel the spark of connection the seemed to have with the orchestra? I get goosebumps just thinking about it!

After the first intermission (yes, there were two), we were treated to the world premier of Williams' new Concerto for Viola and Orchestra. He told us he had written it specifically for the principal viola of the Boston Pops, Cathy Basrak. Williams took time before the piece to describe to us how he had arranged it, explaining the melodic style of the first movement and telling us to pay attention to the cadenza that would show the range and skill of the violist. The second movement was quick and lively, and featured an unusual duet between viola and timpani, written because the violist is married to the timpanist. Williams' jokingly called it the family argument. The last movement is contemplative, almost restorative, and features a duet between viola and harp. The soloist was incredible, and the piece moving. Any world premiere is a treasure, this one especially so because of whose it was. (Too bad David couldn't be there--he has rented himself a viola and is learning to play it and would have especially enjoyed the quality of the soloist) The only downside to this premiere was the audience. Even though Williams took the time to explain the movements and features of each, the crowd still applauded between them. I was embarrassed for them--the applause was so enthusiastic, they clearly didn't even know better and thought they were encouraging the orchestra. What has the world come to, that even in one of the cultural centers of America audiences could be so ignorant?

After wild applause and several bows, they launched into The Adventures of Mutt, from Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. The quality of the story may have worsened in the fourth movie, but the music was as good as ever. After that we had another intermission. During the break some of the brass stayed on stage, and I found myself wondering why they were playing pep band music. Then I had a "duh!" moment as I realized that the first piece after the break was going to be the Superman March, which my high school had used frequently for pep band when our team ran out onto the field/court. When they played the piece, the lighting changed to a very patriotic red, white and blue.

Next was Selections from Far and Away. I've never seen that movie, but based on the Irish style and quality of the music, I now think I would like to. One movement was very quick and the cellos got to play a tricky, fast pattern, something low strings rarely get to do.

Finally it was time to the Raiders March. As Mr. Williams turned to address the audience, a large projection screen came down above the orchestra. While they played the classic theme, scenes from the first three movies were shown on the screen, eliciting "ooh!"s and laughs and cheers from the audience. Before they played, Mr. Williams commented on Harrison Ford's athleticism, informing us that he did 80% of his own stunts in the first films and still did 60% of them in the most recent one. After the piece he joked that it "begs the question of the fifth Indiana Jones film." Hearing this theme, one of my favorites, accompanies by images of the films was definitely the highlight of the night thus far.

The last piece in the program was Excerpts from Lawrence of Arabia, which Williams contends is the greatest film of all time because of the impressive filming with the tools of the time. They showed clips of this one as well, which meant less to me, having never seen the movie. (It's on my list of films to see before I die, but I probably won't get to it for a while.) It was an incredible finish, and it elicited the expected standing ovation.

Luckily, it was not the end. After returning to the stage for a second bow, Mr. Williams told us they would play another piece "for an 800-year-old: Yoda." Inaccuracy of the statement aside, Yoda's theme was a great encore. The lighting turned green again and I couldn't stop grinning. I also couldn't help but lean forward in my seat, straining to capture every note in my mind.

When they finished, I saw several orchestra turning pages and knew there was more to come. Mr. Williams bowed once, waved his hands to quiet us down and launched into the Star Wars Main Theme. It was pure sci-fi and music geek euphoria. Based on which themes were represented and how long each was, I decided it must have been the arrangement from the credits of the first movie. There could not have been a better ending to the night. When it finished I was one of the first to leap up and begin the standing ovation. As the applause went on (we were all secretly hoping they would keep playing all night) Mr. Williams put his hands together and closed his eyes, miming sleep, and we knew it was the end.

I have been to a great many concerts in my life, but this was certainly one of the best, and a night to remember.

-Kim

the boys are back in town

David and Josiah have finally made it out to Boston! They got into town on Sunday, but I didn't get to see them until today. Since I have Tuesday mornings free, I met them at the Prudential Center for ice cream. It was also free cone day at Ben & Jerry's, which was a great excuse to get together. I tried their new Peanut Butter Cookie Dough flavor, and it was delicious. David wanted to go through the line again, but we didn't think that was a good idea. We could have walked to one of the other nearby locations, but instead the guys showed me where they're staying right now. It's a tiny third floor walk-up above a FedEx store just a few blocks from the Pru, and I'm pretty sure I could find it again if I tried. They plan to move to a better place as soon as they find employment, which will hopefully happen pretty soon.

I couldn't stay at their place very long because I had to be back on campus for class at 2:30. They offered to walk me back to the T station, which was very gentlemanly of them, but on the way it started raining--absolutely pouring. I had an umbrella, but they didn't (even though I told them before they moved out here they would need one). I'm pretty sure they were going to make that purchase as soon as I left them. Oddly enough, it wasn't raining by the school when I got off the T. Go figure. But it did rain all evening and is likely to again tomorrow.

Cataloging was actually pretty good today. I didn't think learning about Library of Congress classification and Cutter numbers would be interesting, but it really made sense to me. At least, more so than when we talked about Dewey last week. We were doing in-class exercises at the end of class, and I got to leave class early because I was the first one done. Joudrey saw me sitting there not working and asked if I was done. I nodded, so he had me bring up my answers so he could check them. Since they were all right, there was no reason for me to stay and wait for the rest of the class to finish. That made it a good day. I just hope he doesn't think I'm going to be a cataloger now. Because I'm not. For me, cataloging is like math. I may understand it and even be pretty good at it if I give it my full attention, but it's not what I want to do with my time.

Speaking of time, I really don't have much of it right now. So here's a quick weekend recap:

Friday--Led discussion in Collective Memory and confirmed that my professor (and advisor) still doesn't know my name (this makes me miss my professor friends at USF who would never have let that happen). The art show opening was a success--we actually had a decent turnout

Saturday--Colleges of the Fenway carnival on the Simmons Res Campus--lots of free stuff, including a concert from Parker House and Theory, who have made it onto my list of bands to watch.

Sunday--A series of frustrating events led me to go to Christina's church instead of my usual service at Park Street--I enjoyed the service, and their building is absolutely beautiful.

Monday--Boston Marathon. Apparently it does come pretty near campus (Kenmore Square), but I couldn't watch because I had to work at the library. Go figure.

Now I leave you to dive back into my Collective Memory project on King Arthur--it's due this week and we have quite a bit left to do. Somehow we'll make it.

-Kim

Easter Sunday

My time in Boston has been one new experience after another, and today was no exception. I was a bit bummed out that I couldn't see any of my family for the holiday. Home is too far away, and my Saturday class meant that I didn't have time to make a trip to New Jersey to see Myrlene and Eric. So, measures were taken to ensure I wouldn't miss out completely on family holiday traditions.

On Monday, I received a package from my parents. They had told me they were sending my allergy meds, but the box that came was far too large and heavy to just be nasal spray. Inside was an Easter bag of candy, which I've managed to ration pretty well so far. There was also a fuzzy little chickie that makes cheeping noises when its belly is squeezed.


Today, I went to Easter services at Park Street Church, as usual. The service was a bit more of a production than usual, with the full sanctuary choir, the Park Street Orchestra (which I have to find a way to become a part of) and the Park Street Brass performing multiple anthems. They also sang the Hallelujah Chorus, inviting the congregation to stand and sing along. Having read through it before (though not performed vocally--I think that was a combined band and choir piece when USF did it), I sang along with the alto line and managed to do pretty well with it. That was pretty fun.

After the service I walked through the park to see how the spring flowers were coming along. The sun was shining, but the wind was blowing, and I was glad to have worn my winter coat and a scarf. The flowers are still rather slow in coming, but everything is green and the trees are budding out. A few trees had also been decorated by decorated eggs with tassels that made them look rather oriental. I'm not sure where they came from or what the exact meaning is supposed to be, but it looks pretty cool:

Just as I was about to leave the Public Gardens, I heard the faint sound of a fiddle. Following the sound, I soon came upon a group of people preparing to do something I had heard of but never seen before: a Morris Dance. The Morris Dance is a tradition in England that was performed every year to bring in the warmth of spring, banishing evil spirits and blessing the land with fertility. The dancers (traditionally men) wear all white, with ribbons and flowers and tie bells to their shins, so they jingle the whole time they're jumping around.

Before today my only knowledge of the Morris Dance was gleaned from Terry Pratchett, specifically his Discworld volumes about the Lancre witches. I was pleased with myself for being able to identify the men as Morris Dancers before they even began to dance. Granted, Pratchett definitely used the dance for his own purposes, so my understanding of it is warped by a fictional world in which Spring doesn't come without the dance, and the real event is undoubtedly more about celebrating spring than superstition. I'm such a nerd I don't even really care what the real reason behind the dance happens to be--I was just excited to see something from Discworld happening in real life. It's great fun to watch. Here's the first dance they did:

They did a number of different dances. By the end, I believe they had performed at least eight different dances, each one a variation on the same style. Here's a look at one that doesn't involve the sticks:

I think this last clip is more of what Terry Pratchett had in mind when he wrote about the Morris Dance. If the dancers were just a bit more frantic, we may worry for their safety as they perform.

I froze my fingers getting this much footage, so I have no idea how the fiddler managed to keep his from going numb, but he did. The dancers had no trouble keeping warm as long as they kept moving. When they finished in the park, they moved on to Copley Square, where I saw them again as I was heading to the T station.

If I have to spend Easter by myself, at least God has blessed me with phone calls from home and new experiences.

Our Lord is risen indeed!

-Kim

Boston Symphony Orchestra

It was another night of culture for me on Saturday. My neighbor Molly and I took in a concert of the Boston Symphony Orchestra at Symphony Hall. It's a short walk and a few stops down the Green Line to get there, and we were early enough for me to study the hall before things got started. It's a very nice hall, but it's got nothing on the Washington Pavilion. There is gold painted wood everywhere and Greek statues in sconces above the balconies, so it's fancy enough, but it doesn't have nearly the same feel.





The Pavilion doesn't have a bad seat in the house, but apparently this hall does. At least, I would rather blame the hall than the orchestra. During the concert I had the feeling that the music was all far away, only on the stage. When the music was soft, I could hear the air in the vents and the creaking floor as the usher got bored and went in and out of the door nearby. After the intermission the music was more powerful and reached our seats better. And speaking of the seats--they weren't very comfortable.

I don't mean any disrespect to the BSO--they're a fantastic orchestra. And the hall was certainly marvelous when it was built in 1900. I guess I've just been spoiled by the quality of the Pavilion and our own amazing SDSO.

The concert itself was quite good. First was Ravel's "Mother Goose Suite," then a violin concerto by Prokofiev. The soloist was amazing. She's barely older than me, and she's performed all over the world, with top orchestras. Have you ever seen a really impressive violinist perform? They always appear to be moving at faster than normal speed, as if they are a recording that has been sped up ever so slightly from the rest of the world. Her movements would seem jerky, but for the flowing music that accompany them. She also had incredible long bangs that flew about her face as she bobbed her whole body along with the music.

The best part of the concert was after the intermission, when they played Stravinsky's "Petrushka." It's a ballet about wooden puppets, and it's a shame there were no dancers to watch bring the story to life. But I could picture it on my own. I was helped by both the program notes and an episode of Nodame Cantabile, which had explained and animated part of the story.

After the concert we walked back to campus through the mist. A block away from the dorm, waiting for a walk signal, we spotted the most unusual vehicle. I'm only sorry I couldn't get my camera out in time. It was The Original Party Trolley, which apparently can be rented out like a limo for parties and the like. Follow the link to see what it looks like--it's a very strange contraption.

-Kim

Boston Restaurant Week

(aka - Kim plays at being a Foodie)

Boston's Restaurant Week is a chance for those of us who could usually never afford to go to a fancy restaurant to get lost downtown and experience high scale portion control for a fraction of the price. That fraction is still large enough to be more than I want to pay for a meal again for the rest of the year, but the experience was worth it. I won't be eating another meal this fancy for quite some time, unless someone else offers to pay!

The restaurant I went to, with Molly and Kristen from school, is called Masa. It bills itself as "Southwest," both in cuisine and decor. While the food may loosely fit that description, the decor really doesn't. In fact, I would call the look of the place schitzophrenic--it doesn't know what region to emulate. The fake palm tree and tall grass separating the dining area from the bar really don't match the tables on the other side of the room (pictured below). It looked nice, I just wasn't sure what it was trying to be.


The menu being limited, the three of us ended up ordering almost the same thing for the entire meal. This included drinks. Flavor of choice was a raspberry mojito. It was good (read: tasted more like raspberry than alcohol). I seem to prefer drinks made with rum, and have apparently fallen into a pattern of having one once a year or so. We were already splurging tonight so I figured, why not.

The one piece of variety in our orders was my appetizer. While the other girls had fairly standard salads, I opted for the duck empanada with Mexican chocolate BBQ sauce and tangy watercress salad. I've never seen such presentation for something that ended up looking like a glorified pizza roll. It tasted good, but it looked ridiculous on that plate. Sadly, the sauce tasted only like BBQ, with the tiniest hint of vague "otherness" that didn't quite remind me of chocolate. It was really good, though. There really was duck (among other things) inside that pizza roll.


For the main course all three of us ordered the same thing: Southwestern style steak frites with chile dusted frites, chile lime arugula salad and Guajillo bourbon sauce. The only variety on the table at this point was the cooking of the steaks: meduim rare, medium, and medium well. Okay, so not actual variety there either. It was good, though. The sauce was quite tasty, and the meat was tender and juicy. Accustomed as I am to cafeteria food, it's been quite some time since I've had red meat of this quality. Enjoying a steak this good makes me feel sorry for vegetarians. That dejected-looking pile of greens next to it claimed to be a salad. the lime had a pleasant bite to it, but I didn't waste much time on the greens with a piece of meat this good! The fries were also tasty, though we couldn't figure out whether it would be more appropriate to eat them with forks or fingers. I opted for the fork, simply because it sounded like more fun.


Dessert was distressingly small. Reading the menu online, I had gotten very excited for the
chocolate molten cake with raspberry sauce and vanilla bean ice cream. Imagine my dismay when the plate was brought out and the cake proved to be the size of two oreos. Lovely presentation, but as a chocoholic, I wanted more. And the center wasn't really molten by the time it got to the table--just soft and fudgey. The raspberry sauce really classed it up, as well as using vanilla bean instead of just vanilla for the ice cream topper. I'm a huge fan of the bean.


One other thing about the night should be mentioned. We almost didn't make it to our dinner reservation. In fact, we were five minutes late, but I choose to blame the Metropolitan Boston Transit Authority. And whoever named the streets in South Boston. The restaurant is on Tremont St., which is only a short walk from the Boylston T stop (not Arlington, where MBTA told us to get off). What we didn't realize until it was too late is that there is not just one Tremont St. In fact, there are three. One of them is very short and intersects the other two. The first Tremont St. we took was not the right Tremont. We had to get to the 400 block, but after the 300 block, our Tremont turned into Shawmut. It didn't even turn, just crossed the Mass Turnpike. At this point we consulted a giant tourist map on the corner and discovered what the problem was. The correct Tremont (at least, what we hoped was the correct one) was a block to the South. So we scampered back down the road, found the other Tremont and our restaurant. Walking back along the second Tremont, we found where the third Tremond intersects it. The intersection may not seem as surprising to my father and his siblings who grew up down the hill from the corner of Braemer and Braemer, but streets should not do this sort of thing:


In spite of the street confusion, it was a good night out. Maybe I'll even do it again next year.

-Kim

St. Patrick

I don't do half measures when it comes to showing my Irish pride and love for both the country and the color. The picture doesn't quite give the full effect, but I also have green fingernail polish and a bright orange long-sleeved shirt under the jersey (to symbolize both northern and southern Ireland?). This look is actually a bit toned down from some years, but I think I may have been the most green clad person on campus today.

You would think, that in the city of Boston, so full of Irish, there would be more recognition of the holiday, but I felt almost as strange in my regalia as I do at home, surrounded by people who almost forget the holiday exists. There should have been something going on today, but I couldn't find it. Suffolk county even has the day off as a regional holiday, called Evacuation Day (ostensibly to celebrate driving the redcoats out of the city during the Revolutionary war, but we know it's a vacation day now only because of the Irish), so it's not like there wasn't the opportunity.

But Boston is a strange city. Apparently they celebrated St. Patrick's Day over the weekend. There was a big parade in Southie on Sunday, which I didn't know about until too late and couldn't have attended anyway because I had a paper to write. So apparently I missed it. Darn! I was all excited about St. Patrick's in Boston being a huge event, but somehow I totally missed it. Well, the cafeteria had decorations up today and served us corned beef and cabbage and Irish soda bread, which was amazing--so I suppose it wasn't a total loss. But the only other way for me to be involved in any celebration today would be to head out to one of the pubs and drink green beer, which doesn't at all sound like something I want to do.

Next year I'll be prepared. If the parade happens on the weekend, I will clear my schedule to be in Southie and see a marching band with kilts and bagpipes!

And I'm wearing green for the rest of the week, just because I can!

-Kim

Random trivia: The 12-stringed harp is the official symbol of Ireland. It's hard to see, but check out my jewelry in the above photo.

proof of winter

The view from the third floor landing of my dorm:


Snowy benches in the courtyard:


Snow piles blocking our shortcut across the street:


Snowy main entrance to campus:

in like a lion

Apparently the city of Boston has decided to do whatever it can to make me feel at home. The weather of late has been incredibly reminiscent of South Dakota, in spite of our warm temps and receding snow for the past few weeks. The extent of the warm-up was more than at home, the the concept is the same. Winter taunts us for a short time in February, just enough to make us hope that it might be over, then we get whomped with a snow storm in March.

Today was an actual snow day, and this time even I felt it was warranted. There was a pretty amount of snow yesterday afternoon, but overnight it really accumulated and the wind came up. Still no reports on final totals, but it was rather intense.

Even though classes were canceled, I still had to trudge over to main campus to work my regular shift at the circulation desk of the library. It was a quiet day inside, but the walk over was a bit arduous. The only relief was that traffic was a bit lighter than usual. The streets had been plowed, but this meant that there was a knee-high (even taller in areas) wall of snow to scramble over at the corner to cross the street.

One thing I find rather entertaining here about the snow maintenance is the equipment they bring out to deal with it. I haven't seen a snow blower, but they do have these contraptions that look like a cross between a snow blower and a street sweeper. It has a giant rotating brush, like in a vacuum cleaner, and it essentially just brushes the snow away. I suppose it makes sense to use such a contraption in an area that isn't known for deep snow, but it still looks silly to me. I have more respect for a snow blower. Or perhaps I just have more respect for the need of a snow blower--drifts three feet deep like a proper South Dakota winter. There's something strangely beautiful about the plume of snow arcing out of an industrial-sized snow blower clearing a road. It's our version of ocean spray, a frozen fountain glinting in the sunlight. A sweeper just doesn't have the same effect...

-Kim