Vittoria! Vittoria!!

By now, we’re all back to business as usual. But there was a day or two just a little while ago, when it felt like Christmas, Valentine’s Day, and a kid’s birthday.

American Democrats had a successful election.

Who can remember that such a thing is possible? And the occasion just kept getting better: I went to bed and we had won the House, in the afternoon we were toasting Rummy and Coke, and the next day the Senate was ours. Do I hear impeachment?? It’s been a long presidency, and I will continue to count the days until it ends, but at least now there is the faintest flicker of the notion that there might be some hope in the next two years.

It will be rough going, and this success didn’t happen because of middle America’s sudden rapture with the donkeys (that sounds nearly biblical, doesn’t it!). The Republican base fired Congressmen who have blood on their hands and are riddled with scandals. I’m worried about the Democrats: they haven’t articulated a plan for all our ills, and they are quick to bicker amongst themselves. But this election was indeed a referendum, and I’m hopeful it will give our new leaders the energy boost and the legislative power to act and make changes. I’m also hopeful that the momentum that made these campaigns successful will carry us through the next two years, and even beyond….

Let’s just hope they don’t blow it.

You Can't Get There From Here

I’d like to finally write down some of my impressions of Boston, which have been percolating in my brain since I moved here some 15 months ago.

Europeans will often comment that Boston is a very European city. I am still trying to understand the source of this impression. Maybe it’s the visible Puritan elements that remind them of old London. Or maybe it’s because this is a much more pedestrian-friendly town than, say, LA. Or maybe it’s the besneakered Midwestern tourists traipsing through downtown, much like you’d find in most European destinations. Or maybe it’s the crappy transportation system.

“But wait!” Perhaps you’re saying. “I thought Europe had terrific public transportation??” Aaah, that might be true in, say, Norway, or even France between strikes, and certainly in Germany. I’m thinking more about… Italy. Boston puts the ever-striking Italians to shame.

Like the Roman subway, the local Boston train network is practically useless. A 10 minute car drive is a 45 minute train trip. Just as in Rome, stops directly in downtown are plentiful and convenient enough, but when you wish to travel just a bit further, you start to run into trouble. Because Boston is actually a collection of several sovereign little towns (Cambridge, Brookline, Somerville, etc.), train service is determined not by geography but by politics. Certain distant commuter towns have direct service. A local poor neighborhood has none. Although I am directly across the river from Harvard Square, to get there by train I travel all the way downtown and all the way out in a different direction.

And then there’s the pricing system, which can only be described as Byzantine, another European twist! $1.25 is your basic fare. But once you cross the town line in some places, it’ll cost you twice that to get back. Or sometimes $3.00. By me, the train is above ground. Rides are free when you head “outbound,” but cost the regular fare heading “inbound.”

Outbound and inbound sound confusing? East or West, Uptown or Downtown tell you something, but Bostonians prefer to keep newcomers confused. Inbound means heading into downtown. But what if you already are downtown, and you just need to go one more stop? You get confused, take the wrong train, and try better next time.

Then of course, there’s the schedule, or lack thereof. Sometimes the trains appear two, three, or even four in a row, like elephants. Sometimes there are simply none.

And the journey itself has let me learn how to find my inner Zen amidst chaos. My train line is between two colleges and close to Fenway Park, which means it’s packed with students during the school year, and students plus rowdy baseball fans during the season. And when they only run one trolley, or the wait tops 15 minutes, we’re talking really packed. Tokyo packed.

And bear in mind that the trains are above ground in my neighborhood. This means they can run into traffic with cars, and you get to wait outside in the unfriendly Boston weather. The train system is nicknamed the T. For all of it’s attractive qualities, I’ve nicknamed it the mofo. (Only when I’ve been waiting for 20 minutes in the sideways falling rain, I don’t say mofo.)

Now, this series of Boston impressions won’t be all complaining, I promise! I actually am trying to fall in love with the place, really, I am.