Year of the Blog

Yes, I have indeed been blogging for a year. Time flies, huh? The actual anniversary of my introductory post was yesterday, but I was sorta busy. There were haircuts, errands, dinner with the Mrs. to celebrate our ninth wedding anniversary. Before I knew it, it was after midnight, and at that point, being tired, I decided I might just as well wait until morning.

In fact, one thing I've noticed over the past year is that there tends to be a lag time between events and my blogging about them. I think it's just my style: I like to digest and filter things, and it's not like what I'm covering hard news or anything. I'd like to think this process makes me a better writer, which was one of my original goals when I started.

I have learned a lot through this experience. I was never much of a journal keeper, so this is the most sustained writing I have ever done. It's been beneficial to me in many ways, and what has been probably the biggest surprise to me is how thoroughly satisfying it is to do this on a regular basis. I'm enjoying it far more than I would have expected.

In looking back, I think I have remained true to my original ideas of what I wanted to accomplish, and at the same time I have added dimensions to the scope of this blog that I would not originally have considered, to its benefit and mine. I hope that next year at this time, this will be even more true. Thanks for coming along on this ride.

Live in Concert

I was able to nab a pair of tickets to see Bruce Springsteen when they went on sale on Monday. I'm excited about the show, largely because I've never seen Bruce live. But I did experience some guilt and hesitation before making the purchase, because the tickets were so expensive.

A hundred bucks is a lot of money for a concert. When I went to see my first rock concert, which was Queen at the Providence Civic Center back in 1977, I think the ticket cost $8.50, which seems like a pretty solid deal in retrospect. I have long had an unofficial ceiling of what I am willing to pay for a concert ticket, somewhere in the vicinity of $50. Normally this amount is only exceeded by the biggest acts at the biggest venues, so it hasn't been much of an issue. I've passed on seeing U2 one or two times in the past decade because I didn't feel like it was worth $75, and I'd seen them two or three times back in the 80s anyway.

So when the Springsteen shows were announced with tickets priced at $65 and $95, plus Ticketbastard's outrageous fees and "service" charges, at first I balked. I can afford it, but that isn't really the point. Would it be worth it?

I know that Broadway show tickets broke the $100 barrier a while back, but I don't necessarily have a problem with that because, even though I don't care for musicals and would be very unlikely to go to the sort of big, elaborate, mainstream show that is Broadway's bread and butter, I understand how expensive they are to produce, and how many performers and crew members are required to stage those shows night after night. Even though a concert tour also requires support staff, to my mind it just isn't on the same level of magnitude.

Then I looked at it from the other side. I've been a fan of Bruce's music for thirty years. (Before I started working, I used to babysit for friends of my parents, and once I accepted a copy of Darkness on the Edge of Town as payment for an evening's babysitting.) Since I've never gone to one of his shows, I've never spent money on tickets to one of his shows, so after all this time a hundred bucks doesn't seem like such a big deal. (A bit of rationalization, I know.) And the seats are excellent, right at the front corner of the stage (the venue's web site has a cool tool that lets you see the view from your seat), but a few rows up, high enough so I won't be craning my neck the whole time. I'm sure it's going to be an excellent show, and I'm sure when it's over I'll feel like it was worth it. But I probably won't do it again, at least not for a while.

Got Milk?

A little while ago I went next door to the cafeteria to get some coffee. I had sworn off going there a while back, and I have not gotten any food from there in close to a year, but I'm finding these days that, instead of stopping for coffee on the way into work, I'm coming into the office and then going to get coffee about an hour later, which obviously limits my choices. Also, the cafeteria's coffee has improved (I'm not sure why), and if you bring a travel cup to use, they give a decent discount (around 25%) as a sort of reward for not using another paper cup, heat sleeve, and plastic lid.

As I was adding cream to my coffee, a student-looking young woman appeared next to me and asked, "Do you know if the milk is hot?" I had no idea, but I suspected not. I pointed her in the direction of the dining-services person in charge of the coffee and its associated fixings. Only then did it occur to me that her question was somewhat curious. Hot milk? Is this a standard option at the fancy coffee places I don't patronize? Was she trying to fall asleep? What sort of school had she attended previously where hot milk would be considered typical dining-hall coffee fare? I'm left to wonder.

Wrong Way

Driving through Medford Square last night around 7:15, on the one-way section of route 60 westbound between city hall and the light at Main Street, we encountered a car driving toward us the wrong way. Several cars honked at the oncoming vehicle. As we passed, we saw that the driver had her cell phone up to her left ear. Maybe she was trying to get directions?

Mirror, Mirror

I was in the shower this morning, trying to think of something to write about, when I realized the answer was literally in front of my face.

See, I'm a shower shaver. I started about two years ago. I have very sensitive skin and used to suffer nicks all the time, but since I started shaving in the shower, I almost never cut myself anymore, because the moisture and water vapor helps keep my pores open, resulting in smoother shaves. I know doing this uses more water, but I only have to shave a couple of times a week; if it was a daily necessity, I would be more hesitant.

If you're going to shave in the shower, obviously you have to have a mirror, preferably one that resists fogging. I had one of these that I had bought from the Improvements catalog web site, but recently I found that it was losing its non-foggingness. I felt like I should get another one, but I didn't want to buy the same thing only to have it happen again down the road, so I wasn't exactly expending a lot of effort to find a replacement

So a few weeks ago, I found myself in Bed Bath & Beyond, a place I don't venture too often. I was looking for something; I don't quite remember what it was, but I think I found it. I also found this non-fogging mirror for only $10, which I figured was cheap enough. To my surprise, it's much better than the one it replaced. It really stays clear, it's not distorted like the old one was, and the suction cups are stronger so it doesn't fall off the wall. I like it so much that I'm going to go back and buy another one and put it aside, so if this new one also loses its ability to stay fog-free a couple of years from now (which I suspect it will), I'll have another one at the ready.

Shop 'Til You Nap

Being a dedicated shopper, I had to get out to Natick this past weekend to check out the hugely expanded mall (let's just establish now that I'm never going to call it the "Natick Collection," and I don't think most others will either). I wanted to go last weekend, but the Mrs. dislikes crowds more than I do, so she wasn't having any of that opening-weekend madness.

We probably could have waited a little longer before going, because there are still about a dozen stores (out of more than 70) that are not yet open. I'm sure the opening day for the expansion was firmly established a long time ago, so it's a little surprising that so many retailers would miss the guaranteed publicity and crowds generated by the opening. But none of those were stores I was interested in, so I didn't feel I was missing anything.

The addition is nearly as large as the rest of the mall. If you come off the Pike you'll approach the mall from the back, which means the first thing you'll see is Neiman Marcus; you might want to refrain from eating beforehand, because the outside of the building looks like some sort of regurgitated Frank Gehry nightmare that could cause you to lose your lunch.

Many of the stores (NM, Gucci, Vuitton, Burberry) are Metrowest outposts of high-end stores already in Boston's Copley Place or Back Bay, but that wasn't why I wanted to go, since I don't shop in those places anyway. My primary interest was in visiting several retailers that previously had no presence in this area, and who don't (yet? ever?) sell their stuff online. I'm highly bored with the stores I already had access to around here; one of the reasons I was excited to visit Uniqlo in New York earlier this year was because it was a store I hadn't been to before.

I was eager to see fresh merchandise, and I had hopes of finding some interesting new stuff. And yet, yesterday I came away empty-handed. Here are some brief thoughts on these new-to-us stores:

Zara: Zara originated in Spain and has hundreds of stores on four continents, but is relatively new to the US market. Their business model is somewhat similar to that of H&M, in that new merchandise is constantly flowing into the stores, but from what I saw, I would say Zara's stuff is of higher quality. Stylewise, the closest reference points are probably Club Monaco and Banana Republic. Men's suits were only $259 (I didn't check to see if that was for both pieces or just the jackets, but they were all displayed with both pieces on the same hanger). I noticed a number of non-English-speaking couples shopping and buying, which tells me that Zara is known to a lot of people from other parts of the world, by reputation if not by experience, and that people have been waiting for them to open here.

Everything seemed very small; I tried on a vest I liked that was supposedly a large, but it was way too small for me, and there was only the one piece in that style, so I couldn't compare it to another size. Even the stacks of pants seemed like they were made for very, very skinny Eurodudes (they are thinner than us porky Americans, right?). In general, the clothes were far more dressy than what I generally wear to work. Not that I don't like dressing up, I just don't often have cause to do so, and when I need to, I already have plenty of appropriate clothing. I suspect this will be a store I will go into, take a spin around, and leave. The Mrs. assessed the women's section: she wasn't impressed. She said the higher-priced items didn't seem like they were of good enough quality to justify their prices.

Ruehl: In an effort to be all things to all demographic groups, Abercrombie & Fitch has started Ruehl to try to attract customers who have aged out of their other brands' target markets. They are attempting to conjure a hipster Greenwich Village vibe: the outside of the store has been made to look like a brownstone (ooh, how cool!), there are only two narrow entrances, and the name appears only on one awning on the far left, so it would be easy to look at this store from out in the mall and have no idea what it is, which is kind of their intent.

When I went inside, I was greeted by a faux-cheerful college-age gal. I felt like she should have been handing out candles or glow-sticks, because Ruehl is without doubt the darkest retail store I have ever been in, and that includes the gargoyle place on Newbury Street. I almost expected to find couples making out in the dim corners; indeed, instead of A&F's trademark oversize, black and white photos of naked guys, Ruehl has oversize, black and white photos of naked guys and naked girls together.

The clothes are on tables with pin-spots pointing down on them, or in vitrine-like cubbyholes in the walls that are lit from within. The walls are painted black, the wood flooring is medium-dark, and the doorways from one room to the next are narrow and dim, which only enhances the sense of disorientation and claustrophobia. If you stand near the front of the store and look toward the back, it looks like it could be one of those fun-house places where the ceilings become too low for adults to stand upright. Oh, the clothes? A lot of $80 shirts, for one thing. They were made of very nice, substantial cotton and, as far as I could tell without a flashlight, were devoid of any logos, but I don't spend that much for my shirts. Maybe when they start marking things down...

Martin+Osa: Like A&F's Ruehl, M+O is a concoction of American Eagle aimed at older customers, but that's where the similarity ends. Whereas Ruehl seems like merely a more expensive and slightly more grown-up variant of its parent brand, you would never know this store has anything to do with AE. Apparently Martin and Osa Johnson were real people, world travelers and adventurers in the early decades of the 20th century, and they are serving as the inspiration for the stores' design (woodsy lodge + Zen garden) as well as the clothing. That's swell, but does a clothing store really need a "back story," as it's described on their web site? Did I hear someone say "marketing overkill"?

However, some of the clothes at M+O were things I could actually see myself wearing. There's a (slightly) rugged, outdoorsy touch that reminded me a little of Orvis, but a without that brand's stuffy-CEO-weekend-wear vibe. I wasn't wildly excited about anything, but it feels like they have potential. Also, it seemed like there was a lot of open space in the store; this may be by design, or it may be that not all the merchandise has arrived yet, but either way the offerings seemed a bit thin. I'll check back in a month or so, when stores start bringing in their holiday-season collections, which tend to have slightly more distinctive items than the regular collections.

I would be remiss if I didn't mention Nordstrom, even though it doesn't quite fall in the same category as any of these stores. Nordstrom is not new to New England; they opened a store in Providence several years back. But this is the first one in Massachusetts, and it's a good bit closer (although I can get to the Providence Place mall via public transit, whereas I can only get to the Natick mall by car). I don't buy a lot of clothing at Nordstrom, but over the years I have bought a few things, and the shopping experience is always so pleasant that it makes me want to go back. There are plenty of stores that could learn from the way Nordstrom treats customers; it makes me wonder why they don't.

A Word of Thanks from Your Host

I'd like to take a moment to say hello and thanks to everyone who stopped by for the first time last week. Adam over at Universal Hub has linked to my posts several times, including last week's bit about the cupcake place that brought a lot of new visitors; a link in a posting on the same topic on LiveJournal's Davis Square page did the same.

In fact, I had over 400 visitors last week, making it my best week yet, for which I'm very appreciative--it's nice to know someone is reading (besides my friends). The cupcake critique also got more comments than anything else I've yet written, so please keep commenting as well. (And to "George Bush": I rejected your comment because it was offensive, but I suspect you already knew that.)

I don't know if all of you will keep coming back, but I certainly hope so. I suppose it's really up to me to make it worth your time. My one-year blogiversary is approaching, and I am pondering ways to celebrate. To that end, I welcome your suggestions.

Regular programming will resume shortly...

T Time

Some randon, T-themed observations:

--I guess the T has decided that summer is over, because it seems like the Orange Line trains I rode on today didn't have their air conditioning on. It wasn't hot outside, but it was still warm enough on the trains that the AC would have been nice.

--Since the bus I take in the morning runs at fixed intervals, I tend to catch the same bus (unless I'm running late) and thus I see a lot of the same people from day to day. One guy who has been on my usual bus for the past couple of weeks emanates a funkiness that suggests that either he or his clothing, or possibly both, have not been cleaned in a while. This isn't unusual on the T, but since he's on the same bus most days, it stands to reason that he's going somewhere specific, and he does not otherwise have the appearance of someone in indigent circumstances. If he's going to a job, his coworkers must be starting to feel a little uncomfortable.

--Remember a few months ago when the T announced that they were going to try to keep stations cooler this summer by installing water misters in some locations? So, did they ever do it? I saw a few stand fans around Downtown Crossing this afternoon, and it made me realize that I didn't hear anything else about it after that initial story. If they did do it, did anyone feel like it made a noticeable difference? If they didn't do it, why not? I tend to go through downtown without getting off the train, so it may have happened and I just hadn't been around to notice.

Doggie Styling

The dog was looking a little dingy and smelling a little doggy, so on Sunday we paid a visit to LaundroMutt, the dog-washing place near Fresh Pond in Cambridge.

I know that some people are quite content to bathe their pets at home, in the tub or the yard. Our outside faucets only deliver cold water, and since greyhounds have very little body fat and a thinner coat than a typical dog's, they get cold very quickly, even on a hot day. As for the tub, well, she's kind of big to wrangle in and out, plus we don't have a hand-held spray or any other way of directing the water.

This is why LaundroMutt exists: because many dog owners don't have the necessary facilities, or it's just easier to take care of the dog-cleaning somewhere other than your home.

The tubs for larger dogs have ramps so you don't have to lift your dog up and over the side. Once your dog is aboard, a staff member slides the ramp out of the way underneath, and inserts a removable piece of the tub wall to block the opening. There are vinyl aprons to protect your clothing. You can bring your own shampoo, or they will supply it for you. You can adjust the water temperature to your dog's liking, and use the hose to spray the water where it's needed.

After the bath, you can opt for a hot-air blow-dry, but on a previous visit London did not like that one bit, so we went with the standard method: they give you a towel and a chamois, just like you'd use to dry your car after washing it. Of course, the dog is going to shake itself silly at the first opportunity, regardless of how well you dry it.

The basic wash-and-dry without the hot-air dryer costs $15. That would probably be an indulgence if we were doing it monthly, but we brush her thoroughly a couple of times a week, and we were told by a professional trainer that dogs, if brushed regularly, do not need to be bathed very frequently, as long as they stay out of nasty stuff. Our dog does not get opportunities to roll around in mud or do other messy things. (This might be a disappointment to her, but since she can't talk, we'll never know for sure.) So, for the two or three trips we make per year, it's totally worth it, and as I like to point out, it's also supporting a local business.

LaundroMutt also sells a variety of treats, so you can reward your dog for putting up with the trauma of being bathed. We got London a turkey jerky patty, which she had inhaled within about 20 seconds of getting in the car. Poultry seems to have magical properties for her.

Hey, Cupcake

The Mrs. and I are avowed sweet lovers. We love good (dark) chocolate, we love pastries, we love baked goods of all kinds. So when I heard that a new cupcake place was opening in Davis Square, I knew we had to check it out.

The place is called Kick Ass Cupcakes, which is cute, and it's located on Highland Avenue just outside the square proper. We headed over there on Friday night (they're open til 10 PM on Friday and Saturday nights), their first day open for business. Their web site promised about ten different varieties of cupcakes, including some unusual flavors, so we were anticipating some good stuff.

Unfortunately, the cupcakes were practically microscopic. Now, there's nothing wrong with mini cupcakes, but these were almost small enough to be considered mini-sized, yet they cost $2.75 each. By way of comparison, when we went to New York in June, we ate lunch in the basement cafeteria at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where we split a delicious, gigantic cupcake filled with raspberry goo that was $3.50.

We did end up buying some cupcakes, and they weren't even that good. The Mrs. said she felt like she wanted to go back to talk to the proprietor, to give her some friendly advice. I don't like to say bad things about someone trying to make it running their own business, because I know how difficult it can be, and I like to support local businesses whenever possible. But I fear that a lot of people are going to visit Kick Ass Cupcakes once, and not go back. I hope the people running the place rethink their pricing or their sizing, or both.

Saturday we stopped in Ball Square to get a snack at Lyndell's bakery. They make some pretty great pastries; I'm quite partial to their raspberry danish. And they also make cupcakes, which are generously sized and cost 90 cents each.

Today's Special

I've been getting lunch from the cafeteria of one of the hospitals down the street. It isn't great food, but it does the job. I've determined that I should pretty much stay away from the cooked food, but since I usually get a sandwich anyway, it works out fine. It solves the lunch problem quickly, cheaply, and with a minimum of fuss.

As with most institutional cafeterias, there are a number of daily specials. How special they are is fairly subjective; whether or not I get the special depends on what it is and what I'm in the mood for that day. Today's deli special was an Italian sub. I love Italian subs, though I don't eat them as much as I used to, because they're pretty bad for me (and you, and everyone else).

It's been a while since I've indulged in one, so I decided that I would go ahead and get the sub. There are two servers at the deli station, and the woman behind me ordered the same thing at about the same time, leading to both of us being asked more or less simultaneously, "Do you want mayonnaise on it?" I looked at the woman, who looked back at me. We both said no, then looked at each other again. I said, "Mayonnaise? On an Italian sub? That's just...wrong." She nodded in agreement. Ugh.

Mayonnaise has its place, but the idea of it on an Italian sub is stomach-turning. I thought maybe this was another of those quirky local food things that people think are so charming (like getting rolls with Chinese food, or what everyone else calls a milkshake is a frappe around here), but I'm local and I've never heard of it in my entire life. I think maybe the cafeteria ladies decided to embellish on their own. Good thing they asked first, or today's lunch wouldn't have been too enjoyable.

Getting Out

So, another long weekend is over, and what did I do with my three days of freedom? Not much. We ate our way around greater Boston, did a few errands, and watched Zodiac, but as is frequently the case, I'm left with feelings of post-long-weekend regret. We should have planned some activity, should have taken advantage of the great weather and the freedom from work and other commitments to do something fun. But we didn't.

We tend to not plan much ahead of time. We like to pretend that this is an advantage of not having children--that we can do what we want, when we want--but the truth is we're just lazy, and the result is that on many weekends we end up not doing much of anything. As I put out the trash on Sunday evenings I often think to myself, "Where did those two days go, and what do you have to show for it?" I don't like this. It feels like we're prematurely old or something, and it isn't good for us. It's a rut we need to get out of.

The Mrs. has a tendency to sleep a lot on weekends. I don't begrudge her the extra rest, because her job is stressful and she needs more sleep than the average person anyway. But I often find myself sitting around waiting for her to wake up. I try to make use of that time by doing household chores, but I still end up feeling bored and restless. At times I have gone off to do things by myself; spending time separately is healthy, but one point of weekends is that we're supposed to spend time together, so even if I just run off to the mall for a couple of hours, it sort of feels like I'm abandoning her.

I think we need to try harder. I think it might help if we start planning something, anything. Each weekend we should have at least one planned activity, no matter how minor or trivial. Find a new place for brunch. Take the dog somewhere that she can romp and play for a while. Hit some yard sales. Take a drive somewhere we haven't been before. It isn't hard to come up with ideas, but it is going to require some effort to get off the couch and make them happen.

Breakfast Blues

I've always been a breakfast eater. Even in college, I would trek to the cafeteria for a bowl of cereal before heading to class. (I also felt it was a way to ensure I was getting my money's worth out of the meal plan.) But the Mrs. and I are not particularly good at keeping the house stocked with food, so I ran out of suitable breakfast foods. The obvious solution is to stop and get something on the way to work, and since I usually stop for coffee anyway, this isn't too difficult to accomplish. Or so I thought.

[Side note: I always have coffee at home along with breakfast, but by the time I get to work I'm ready for more. When my office moved recently, we got a new coffee-making machine, the kind that uses the little individual cylinders that are pre-filled with coffee and a tiny filter. Unfortunately, this coffee tastes only slightly better than the vile, nasty stuff we used to have that came in individual pouches, so for the foreseeable future, I will have to continue to buy coffee on the way to work. If the T ever has the (unlikely) common sense to install cupholders on its vehicles, I will consider a travel cup, because I need one hand to hold on and the other to hold the newspaper.]

Today I decided I was in the mood for a treat, something along the lines of a pastry, a danish, a cinnamon roll, that sort of thing. That pretty much excludes Dunkin' Donuts. I love doughnuts, but I do not care for Dunkin's doughnuts, and while their muffins are decent, that wasn't what I was after today. So I headed for the Espresso Royale Cafe on Gainsborough Street in the vicinity of Symphony Hall, which is on my way to work and which has a very nice selection of baked goods. I'm particularly fond of the coffee cake they sell, which is served in nice, thick squares with a dollop of raspberry syrup (or something) and a drizzle of icing on top. Mmmm...

The folks at Espresso Royale make an excellent cup of coffee, and the goodies are yummy (I don't know if those are made on the premises or brought in from elsewhere). But they are, collectively, not exactly the fastest group of baristas I have encountered. I'm sure they're all very nice people, but this is Boston after all, the land of people with zero patience who are always in a hurry (myself included). I've been in there probably about forty times over the past three months, and the staff have a distinctly... leisurely way of going about their work. Add in the fact that the students are in the process of returning to the area, and you get a line ten deep that isn't showing any outward signs of moving.

I turned around and headed back to Huntington Ave. There's a Starbucks around the corner. I'm not a big fan of the Seattle leviathan for various reasons, but they do have these maple-frosted scones that I like. Of course, the line in Starbucks was even longer than the line in ERC, so that was the end of that idea. I ended up walking a couple of blocks up Huntington to the Au Bon Pain at Northeastern, where I got a gigantic tub of iced coffee (seriously, it's like a quart) for only $2 and a mediocre cinnamon scone. Now I guess I should start thinking about lunch...

Gift, Interrupted

I love receiving gift cards, but it seems like the ones I get tend to be for stores where I don't find much I like these days. It's a terrible feeling to go into a store with a gift card to spend, look around for 20 minutes (making a second circuit to make sure you didn't miss anything), and not find a single thing you want to get.

I received a Banana Republic gift card from my brother, but I haven't bought anything from BR in probably a year or more. This is pretty much my fault, because he asks my mother what to get me, and my mother thinks I still like to shop there because I have not told her otherwise. Clearly I will need to do that before Christmas rolls around.

I saw a couple of things I did like, but I felt they were overpriced by at least 25%. I saw a couple of other things that I could have gotten but don't need, and I can't see the point of getting something that's just going to hang in the closet and get dusty. I could wait a couple months for some different merchandise to rotate in, but I'm not known for being a terribly patient person in general, and with gift cards, the thing might as well be leaking plutonium. (It's sad, I know.)

I know about the various sites where you can sell and trade gift cards, but they typically charge a fee, and you typically have to sell the card for at least 10% off its face value to get anyone to buy.

So I'm going to try a different approach. At work we have an intranet, and on it there is a craigslist-type bulletin board. Today I posted under Barter looking for someone who wants to swap gift cards, and we'll see if anyone is interested.

The Right to Bare Arms?

Yesterday it was extremely hot (96 degrees) and very humid, so we spent most of the day holed up in the comfort of the house, and ventured out around 6:30 PM to get a birthday present for my brother and have dinner.

In line at the store, I noticed that there were two men of roughly my age ahead of me, one with a wife or girlfriend, the other with a young daughter. Also, both of them were wearing tank tops. I'm used to seeing this choice of clothing among young guys on the T, but on middle-aged guys it gives me pause. I'm not talking about being in shape; I'm talking about dignity. I don't own a tank top, but if I did, I would not wear it out in public. I feel that some items of clothing are appropriate for inside your house, and that's it, and tank tops are one of those items. Exposed armpits and hot, humid days--ugh, I don't even like thinking about it.

Later, at the restaurant, I saw another guy wearing a tank top. Now, shopping on route 1 on Saturday evening is one thing, but going out to dinner? We're not talking about the dining room at the Ritz-Carlton (oh wait, that got sold and is now called the Taj Boston), but we're not talking about the corner diner either. Maybe I'm old-fashioned, or just old, but when I go to a semi-nice restaurant, I don't expect to see male patrons wearing tank tops. Many restaurants used to have dress codes, but they have all but vanished due to the continued overcasualization of every aspect of public life in our society.

To be fair, I was wearing a short-sleeve shirt, cargo shorts, and fisherman sandals, so there are probably more than a few places I would have been turned away from back in the Rat Pack days. (Yes, I have been watching Mad Men, and yes, it does make me nostalgic for a time when men and women knew instinctively, or were taught, how to dress appropriately for any occasion.) The line between casual dining and upscale dining, and the differences in attire and behavior that go with it, pretty much no longer exists, and maybe that's the problem.

Every year around this time, the men's magazines start talking about how "this fall, men will be dressing up again!" But it seems like they're trying to convince themselves rather than their readers. Maybe some intrepid restauranteur needs to step up and be willing to reinstate a dress code and stick to it. You know how certain clubs have a rule about no sneakers or ball caps? No one seems to care much about that, except the occasional frat dude that gets turned away, and you can bet he'll either go home and change or remember how to dress when he comes back next time.

I would be willing to put on long pants, even on a 96-degree day in August, if I knew that it meant all the other patrons at that restaurant had to do the same thing, and if it would assure me I wouldn't have to see any men in tank tops.

The Kindness of Strangers

At lunch today I went to the box office at the Berklee Performance Center to get tickets for the show by the awesome Montreal band Stars on October 19th (I highly recommend going to this show; the BPC site describes them as "beautiful, eloquent indie pop with a flair for the dramatic," and it's only $20, well worth it). As I negotiated the throngs of Berklee students clustered on the sidewalk along Mass. Ave. (is their school back in session already?), I pulled my eyeglass case out of my pocket to get ready to take off my sunglasses when I stepped inside.

As soon as I'd done this, I realized that I had carelessly allowed a $5 bill to slip out with it. I turned around to retrace my steps, and a young guy was already coming toward me with the bill in his outstretched hand. Naturally I thanked him, and then I thought, how refreshingly honest. He could have just put his shoe over it and I never would have found it. So thanks again, unknown Berklee dude. You restored my faith in humanity, at least for today.

Behind the Wheel

Last night we were invited to a casual supper at a friend's house, so on the way there we stopped at the grocery store to pick up the requested beverage and snack. As we pulled into a parking space, we saw a very elderly woman being helped to her car with her groceries by a member of the store staff. She was stooped and it seemed that she could barely walk.

I went inside and got the needed items. When I went to pay, the kid bagging was the same one who had helped the woman outside, and he and the cashier were talking about her, how frail she was, how banged-up her car was. I hadn't noticed that when I'd gotten out of the car, but as he continued, he gestured out the window and said, "She's still out there."

I went outside and saw she was indeed still parked in the same spot, but her car was now running. She had the donut spare tire on her left front wheel, and when I passed to the other side, I could see that the passenger side of the car was scraped from end to end, as though she had driven it along the side of a building or something.

She drove away oh so slowly, and we ended up behind her heading out of the parking lot. The Mrs. said, "She probably shouldn't be driving. She could be dangerous to other people as well as herself." I didn't really have anything to add to that, other than to agree. It's unfortunate, but often true, that as we age our bodies fail us in various ways.

I wondered if she had children, and if so, if they had thought about how to deal with the situation. And if she doesn't have any children, or any other close relatives monitoring her health and well-being, then whose responsibility is it? Should we have called the police? What would we have said? "Yes, there's a woman on Salem St. that we suspect is driving while old."

Bus Stop Musings

When you ride the T regularly, at some point you will be faced with the dilemma of having to choose between two different routes to the same destination, and woe is you if you make the wrong choice. T riders live in dread of making the wrong choice.

Today I went to do a couple of errands in the Prudential Center at lunch, and when I was ready to head back to work, I realized I could either take the 39 bus or the E line down Huntington Avenue to Brigham Circle. I tend to prefer taking the bus along this corridor, mostly because I find the stops to be situated more conveniently for my purposes; because it seems like the bus moves faster (even if it's only an illusion); and also because of my long-standing hatred of all things Green Line, going back to my BU days in the 80's, when I rode and loathed the B line.

So I opted to wait for the bus, which today was the wrong choice. As I stood watching for a 39 bus coming west down Huntington, three buses came from the other direction and made the turn onto Dalton Street within about two minutes of each other. This was a clear warning that I should go down into Prudential station and wait for an E train, because it was going to take at least 15 minutes for the first of those buses to make its way to Back Bay station, discharge its passengers, pick up new passengers, and make its way back around to where I was standing.

For some reason, this warning did not register in my brain. Perhaps I was addled by the heat, but I can't say for sure. (You'd think the heat would have been enough reason for me to opt not to stand around outside waiting for a bus.) I naively hoped that another bus was already on its way from Back Bay, but of course it wasn't.

When you're waiting around for 20 minutes or so, you have time to think about ways the T could do better. Like GPS. The buses are already equipped with it, but it's only used for the stop announcements. How idiotic is that? How hard could it be to come up with some sort of a readout on the bus stop sign posts that indicates how long until the next bus comes? Because, you know, that's information that might actually be useful to someone.

I went to London 20 years ago, and even back then the Tube stations had signs indicating how many minutes until the next train arrived, so I know it's technologically possible, but it would imply a level of accountability that the T is too gutless to undertake. Or they would say, "Oh, that would cost too much." And how much did the new fare collection system cost? The one that allows more fare evasion than before?

Not Buying It

I know the blog posts have been a bit sparse lately, and there are a couple of reasons for that. In the torpor of August, everything seems to slow down, including my brain. The heat and humidity sap my energy, and I just haven't felt especially inspired or come up with any good topics lately. Also, I tend to do my posts during the workday, but I have a new project at work in addition to my regular stuff, making it a bit more difficult to steal time to blog on the employer's dime, as it were.

Our state is about to celebrate the joys of capitalism and potential indebtedness with the latest edition of its annual tax-free shopping weekends. You might think I would be excited, but I am not. As much of a shopper as I am, I'm not planning on buying anything this weekend, at least not anything that I wouldn't be buying anyway. Though the Mrs. and I have discussed some potential large purchases, there is no urgency around them. I've been giving some thought to getting a new computer, but it's not a necessity, and nothing else is pressing enough to entice us to whip out the plastic this weekend.

And really, that's probably a good thing. Sure, everybody loves saving money, but it's kind of irresponsible to go buy something just because you'll save a few bucks on sales tax. If you're a savvy enough shopper, you can probably find the item in question available somewhere (online, probably) at enough of a savings to equal or exceed the money you'd save by not paying sales tax. And most people are already in too much debt as it is.

(Wow, listen to me. I must be getting sensible in my old age. What a drag.)

I've also been thinking about the news reports that say the state loses in the neighborhood of $25 to $30 million in revenue by not collecting sales tax for these two days. That money could do a lot for our cash-strapped state government. I wonder how many shoppers will be thinking about that this weekend, or later on, when they might be deprived of some state program or service because there isn't enough money to fund it?

If you need something, you're going to buy it anyway, whether or not a tax break is involved. And many (probably most) Massachusetts shoppers know they can get a year-round tax holiday by investing in a tank of gas and heading over the border to tax-free New Hampshire for big-ticket purchases. Not everyone would agree that the trip is worth the time and gas money, but it is an option.

We're going to spend this weekend visiting our "country mice" friends out in the rural middle of the state, which will help us me resist the temptation to buy something big and shiny.

Wave That Flag

Boy, it's such a comfort to know that the state of Oklahoma is doing its part to support freedom and sustain our American way of life by issuing "Global War on Terror" license plates. Perusing the list of other special plates available, I see they also have NRA and pro-life plates. What's next, "Secure Our Borders" plates?

(Courtesy of the SmartRoutes "On the Road" blog.)