Boston

I had a great weekend, one that was more hectic than I would have liked for sure, but in the end it was memorable for all the right reasons. It was something that involved a lot of little moments, between family and friends, that might not amount to world-changing events in the long run but certainly had a positive impact on me for whatever they were. Then I got off work yesterday to the news coming out of Boston.

Having lived through 9/11 from the distance of several miles from any of the attack sites but with fond memories of wandering around Manhattan with a drama club tour group in high school, I was devastated that day to learn that the world could change like that, all because of ignorance and hatred. And no matter how lucky we've been since (at least until yesterday) to not have anything of that scale occur again on our shores, the price that we've paid in our peace of mind and sense of security can never be disregarded. What 9/11 brought about was a different America, one that, under a president whose very existence I continue to regard as unholy, lost its moorings and came oh so close to the brink of madness. I hope that doesn't happen again, I pray that it doesn't.

Boston is a city of which I know a lot more than I initially thought I might. For one thing, it's the home of my favorite baseball team (on and off since my childhood infatuations with the Braves and Yankees faded from memory, anyway), the Red Sox. And it's the home of one half of the greatest NBA rivalry of all time, the Celtics. Hockey is also big there, I'm led to believe. Music flows from there, whether in the band named after the city (other than "More Than a Feeling," I'm not a fan) or from Jonathan Richman, a former Modern Lover whose songs from the early Seventies involve Boston in some manner or another. "Cheers" was set there, as was "Ally McBeal." The Kennedys began their rise to prominence there, in the political environment dominated by their fellow Irishmen. Hell, a new VH1 reality show of dubious provenance is set there, "Wicked Single" (because, you know, all Bostonians use the word "wicked" in everyday conversation).

It's also the place where the American Revolution took off, first with a massacre and then with a tea party. It's from the city that the first African-American troops in the regular Union Army, the 54th Massachusetts, marched through on their way to fight slavery in the land where many of them came from. It has a long and proud history of not giving a fuck what you think about the Patriots. It's a great city that I'd love to visit someday, take in a game in Fenway or something.

But now, of course, it's also a city that's been touched by terrorism. Whoever did this, whatever their motivations, they achieved only one thing: they brought the full wrath of the Birthplace of American Liberty on their heads. I hope the fuckers rot in jail (the death penalty is too good for them). I hope we catch them soon. I hope, for those I know who call or have called Boston home, that something good comes out of this, whether on a general level or just an individual coming-to-terms with the events. That is my hope, anyway. As after 9/11, I'm fully aware that my hopes might not be realized, that it may be too late already. But I hope anyway.