Boston 2023

The continuation of our trip that started in Williamstown, MA for a wedding. After the wedding, we headed to Boston for a week with Allie, then to Portland, Maine for the following weekend.

Sunday, September 10

We had breakfast at Renee’s Diner in North Adams which at least had better hash than the Chef’s Hat we tried on Friday in Williamstown. 

We eagerly checked out of the 1896 House and had an easy drive toward Boston on the Mass Pike but Allie clarified that we shouldn’t arrive before 2pm. To kill a few minutes, we pulled into the Natick Mall and the Container Store, one of Barb’s favorite places. 45 minutes later after much wandering we extracted ourselves with a couple of small purchases to help Barb keep her various electronic screens clean. 

We were able to park the car and get checked into The Kensington’s guest apartment without much trouble. Allie helped us get in then headed off to a bar to watch football games for her fantasy league, a new fascination for her. Barb and I watched more tennis (the Men’s Final) and baseball in Allie’s room with Perri. We got Barb a cheesesteak for dinner from Boston Kitchen Pizza and later left her with Perri and an evening of PBS murder mysteries. 

Allie and I went for dinner at Atlantico Boston. We had been there the previous year and enjoyed it. This time we shared anchovies, grilled octopus, clams with chorizo and grilled asparagus, repeating three of the dishes from the last time. They were good once again, though not quite as transcendent the second time.

We let Allie get to bed and tried to watch the last of Barb’s murder mysteries, Van der Valk, in our room. It was an ordeal trying to figure out our TV and we ended up finding it on my computer instead. We were able to find a Murder She Wrote channel on the TV so it was easy for Barb to fall asleep when the time came.

Monday, Sep. 11

We had a quiet morning in the apartment with Barb reading in the 6th floor lounge and me trying to catch up on this journal and attempting to sort out our TV. It was an Amazon Fire TV that was not connected to cable…a preview of potential life as a cord cutter (I know we pay too much for our monthly Comcast subscription but I’m not yet ready to cut the cord). We could get a ton of crappy channels through Freevee and other secondary networks, but little of “regular” TV or cable networks. We had the option of logging into our own streaming services or maybe casting to the TV from our other devices but I had trouble even getting that done and decided I didn’t want to anyway.

Barb and I had a light lunch at the Dumpling Cafe: hot and sour soup for me and and we shared fried dumplings. It was not bad, even if the place is not one of Allie’s favorites.

Barb tried to figure out how to download books to her Kindle. She first checked with the small Boston Public Library branch around the corner from Allie’s but they were no help. She then called our Howard County Library branch and tracked down a very nice staffer, Kim, who had helped her before. Kim was great walking Barb through the steps. She has to remember to sign out the book through Libby on her phone, then share it with her Kindle. 

It threatened to rain in the afternoon so we went to the movies. Barb saw My Big Fat Greek Wedding 3 while I saw Barbie.  I guess I’m obliged to comment on Barbie. I thought the movie was quite well done, especially the production design, so kudos to Greta Gerwig. Overall, I liked the movie but didn’t love it, I think because for me the resolution moved things back to the place it started with the Barbies in charge…which was fine but I hoped for a bit of growth to where the Barbies and Kens could live together more as equals. But maybe that would be too woke or Pollyanna-ish for this moment. Allie disputed my concerns and was much more enthusiastic which is her prerogative. After all, as she notes, she is the target audience and I’m not. Fair enough.

After Allie returned from work, she and I watched the first two episodes of The Bear on Hulu while Barb napped. Neither Allie nor I had seen this critically acclaimed show. I can’t say that I loved it either, but I binged the rest of the first season over the next couple of days. It certainly gave one an appreciation for the difficult day-to-day grind of operating a restaurant, but the dramas were a bit overwrought and there was a surprising indifference to the actual customers.

We had reservations for dinner at 7:30pm at Marseille Boston, a relatively new restaurant that Allie suggested we try. We shared escargot, mussels and steak frites, all quite good. The place was a reasonable facsimile of a French bistro, maybe a small notch above a chain like Mon Ami Gabi. We could return sometime.

We returned to Allie’s apartment to watch the first episode of season 3 of Only Murders in the Building before letting Allie get to bed.

Tuesday, Sep. 12

We repeated our morning routine, with Allie heading to work, Barb fetching a breakfast sandwich from Dunkin Donuts downstairs, and me having some cheese and bread in the room. Barb then settled in the 6th floor lounge to read books while I had a Scattergories session with Sue and Laurie.

As we Ubered to the restaurant the evening before, I noticed a billboard advertising a new exhibit of Bruce Springsteen photos at something called the Folk, Americana, Roots Hall of Fame. I checked further and learned it was a new initiative of the Wang Theatre just a block away from Allie’s. I went over to the theater to learn more but the theater was shut tight. It seemed that Wednesday the 13th was the first day tours would be offered. I signed up online for the noon tour.

I also noticed that guitarist Tommy Emmanuel would appear at The Wilbur, next door to the Wang Theater, on Thursday, the 14th. Allie was already committed to the Red Sox game that night with her co-workers so I decided to get a ticket. My next two days’ activities were set and my faith in the kismet of city life was affirmed.

I had a banh mi sandwich from Banh Mi Huong Que across the street from Allie’s and got a slice of pepperoni pizza for Barb from Boston Kitchen Pizza. Everyone was happy.

In the afternoon, I binged four or five episodes of The Bear at Allie’s. We hadn’t made dinner reservations but decided that this might be a good night to try for a table at Neptune Oyster, one of Allie’s favorite restaurants and a top seafood place in Boston. The restaurant doesn’t take reservations and often has a long line in front. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad on a Tuesday evening.

At 4pm, Barb and I got ready to head over to Neptune Oyster to stand in line. We got there around 5pm and once Allie arrived around 5:30 we had no trouble getting a table. We enjoyed a nice meal of oysters for Allie and me, a couple of crab claws for Barb, two bowls of clam chowder, a very good razor clam casino dish and a tomato-burrata-sardine salad. All were very delicious. I agree it’s one of Boston’s best; I only wish it were a little larger.

We strolled back to the apartment on this lovely evening but it was a little far for Barb to walk. Allie went ahead as Barb and I walked slowly. We finally made it and settled in for a couple more episodes of Only Murders in the Building before letting Allie retire. Barb and I retired to our own Murder She Wrote marathon.

Wednesday, Sep. 13

We repeated our morning ritual…why mess with success? Instead of the 6th floor lounge, Barb found a spot in the sun by the pool and had a nice few hours. I found a place in the shade and worked on my journal for a couple of hours before heading out for my urban adventure of the day. 

I decided to stop at the local Tatte for a fattoush salad before going to the Wang Theatre for my noon tour which turned out to be fundamentally a $25 tour of the theater including a couple of exhibit areas. Our guide was the Director of History for the theater and this was one of the first tours in a new initiative. Some of the display areas were still getting set up while we were there.

We started in the lobby of the massive, nearly 100-year old theater where we were given an overview of the structure’s history.

We headed upstairs to the display area for the Folk, Americana, Roots Hall of Fame (FARHOF), a nonprofit organization launched in 2019 but still getting its feet on the ground. Its inaugural class of musicians has been named and will be honored in an event at the theater being planned for Spring of 2024. If they can get some or all of the living folks there for a tribute concert it will be quite an event (Gordon Lightfoot will be a tough get, admittedly…and some of the others may not last long).

The main FARHOF exhibits were titled Boston: A Music Town (the fourth floor exhibit of concert photos was not available and not mentioned). The exhibit was basically display cases and signage dedicated to six different genres of music loosely associated with Boston. Since we didn’t have a lot of time to really examine each one, I snapped photos for you and I to peruse at our leisure. I wish there was more detail available on the FARHOF website, but not yet.

Folk

The Folk gallery was the largest and most impressive with three display cases. Of special note were Woody Guthrie’s fiddle and Pete Seeger’s banjo. There is a reasonably strong connection between Boston and the American folk music revival that peaked in the 1960s.

Bluegrass

There’s a more tenuous connection between Boston and bluegrass with pride of place going to hometown player Peter Rowan.

Blues

Likewise, Boston’s links to the Blues are stretched a little thin. One case was given to Guy Davis, whom I afraid I didn’t even know.

Rock

Boston is on firmer footing with Rock music, with hometown claims for the Dropkick Murphys, Aerosmith, The Cars, and the band Boston. Several of us noted the awesome schedule at the Boston Tea Party concert venue for May-June 1969 (a couple of months before Woodstock): The Jeff Beck Group, The Nice, Poco, Family, The Who, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Joe Cocker and The Grease Band, The Bonzo Dog Band, It’s a Beautiful Day, Led Zeppelin, Zephyr, The Velvet Underground, Allman Brothers, Delaney & Bonnie and Friends, and The Serfs. Those were the days, rockers.

Hip Hop

Sadly, I don’t have much to say for the Boston’s bona fides for R&B and Hip Hop. I’ll take the FARHOF’s word on it.

Jazz

Ditto for Jazz, sort of. I don’t think of Boston as a hotbed of the genre, though certainly the Berklee College of Music gives Boston a connection to almost all styles of music.

Classical

Boston has a long legacy with Classical music, from the Boston Pops (one of my Dad’s all-time favorites) to the Boston Symphony and local boy Leonard Bernstein.

These few display cases frankly did not make much of a statement for the FARHOF. It’s hard to see how this organization will distinguish itself from the Americana Music Association which holds an elaborate annual conference and concert series in Nashville. It will be interesting to keep an eye out for the FARHOF’s inaugural induction ceremony event next year. If it takes off I guess I can say I saw it as a newborn baby.

Our tour next headed into the theater itself, a beautiful space seating 3,000. Our guide told more stories about the building’s renovation in the 1990s including replacement of a couple of the ceiling murals. 

We went to one of the lower public levels usually only visited for the bathrooms. Here we saw seven sculptures grouped under the heading of Cultural Heroes. I dutifully snapped away, but there was little real context for this assortment of heads acquired from Nashville sculptor, Alan LeQuire. Unfortunately, the sculptures are not especially appealing and the information on the artists is skimpy. They’re just sort of taking up space.

Adjacent to the Cultural Heroes but not available to the public at performances was a room with collections of musical memorabilia from David Bieber and Ernie Boch Jr. This room was being prepared to open so wasn’t really fully operational…but it was kind of cool to see the set of guitar cases on the floor. The display cases were even more of a hodgepodge of items than what we’d seen upstairs.

Next we went backstage to see some of the dressing rooms and an array of signatures on the wall, including a signed poster from the previous evening’s sold out performance by Squeeze and the Psychedelic Furs. If I’d been more on my game I might have tried to get a ticket.

We were ushered into a couple of small rooms still being set up with an exhibit of photographs of Bruce Springsteen through his career. The photos were by six different artists including Bruce’s sister, Pamela. This collection was advertised as being open for the public starting this day, but it clearly wasn’t quite ready for prime time. It was an evocative walk down memory lane for us boomers but it would have been more fun to see the exhibit when it was finished, including planned footage of one of his shows in the theater.

Finally we were led backstage and onto the enormous stage of the Wang Theatre. The guide claimed the backstage was one of the five largest in America, after Radio City, the Met, the Kennedy Center Opera House maybe one other. The backstage area was impressive but even more so was looking out to the 3,000 seat theater and imagining performing for a full house. 

I’m not convinced this 90-minute tour was worth $25, especially since several of the display areas were not fully functional. But it was an interesting look behind the scenes at an attraction that may become more of a destination in Boston in the future (here’s another person’s summary from a few months before). It will be interesting to see how the FARHOF develops in the coming years. I can say I saw it in its infancy, if it’s not stillborn.

It was raining after my tour but I’d promised to get Barb a slice of pizza for lunch. It was a little wet by the time I got it to her in Allie’s apartment. We dried off and I watched the remainder of the first season of The Bear. The word is the second season is more interesting so I’ll track it down at some point.

Allie made it home from work and we got ourselves together to go to dinner at 7:30 pm at Myers + Chang, an upscale Chinese restaurant. Allie and I shared a tableful of good dishes including sugar snap pea salad, charred octopus and corn, Mama Chang’s pork and chive dumplings, nasi goreng, the untraditional scallion pancake, and shrimp chips. Barb happily ordered lemony shrimp dumplings and beef with white rice from the kid’s menu. Thoroughly sated, and with a reasonable selection of leftovers, we ubered back home to watch another episode of Only Murders in the Building before heading to bed.

Thursday, Sep. 14

We started this day like the others: Dunkin Donuts for Barb, bread and cheese for me. Barb went to the pool and spent nearly 5 hours reading in the sun. I stayed in the room for the morning and haggled with Viking over air reservations for our New Zealand-Australia cruise. They changed our flights and gave us only an hour layover time in LA on our outbound trip. I asked to change it and they wanted to charge an extra $1500. I refused and they started negotiating before finally agreeing to switch us to a different route through San Francisco at no additional charge. I fear it’s an early example of trying to nickel and dime us for extra charges on our cruise.

I decided to assuage my aggravation by getting an overpriced sandwich at Sam LaGrassa’s, still one of the highest rated dining experiences in Boston, currently #4 on TripAdvisor (it used to be #1; surprisingly, Cafe Bonjour is currently #2 – we’ve eaten there several times with Allie in the past but it wasn’t that impressive). I walked over and got a chipotle pastrami sandwich; I ate half there and brought half home for dinner. It was a pretty good sandwich but not worth $25, even if I did get two meals out of it. I did enjoy the Maine Root Ginger Brew I had with it. That was worth the $3 or $4 I paid for it.

I came back to the apartment and fetched another slice of pepperoni pizza for Barb’s lunch then settled in the 6th floor area to work on this journal for a while. Around 3pm I headed out to the Boston Common to stroll and listen to a podcast (Strike Force Five, in this case), getting a modicum of exercise on a nice day. 

I checked out the new Martin Luther King sculpture, The Embrace. The headless and torso-less bronze is an odd memorial and does seem out of place in the Common and in Boston in general, though evidently Boston is where Martin met Coretta. But it’s a ready landmark and tourist attraction, vaguely obscene if you put yourself in the right (or wrong) frame of mind. There were a handful of students obviously writing homework assignments about the statue, trying to ignore the homeless man sitting nearby ranting loudly about cocaine and various other topics.

I walked to the Boston Garden and paused by the Make Way for Ducklings statue and some actual ducks in case we make it to the artist’s exhibit in Brunswick on Saturday.

I came back and got Barb settled in Allie’s apartment while I got ready for my webinar, The Pursuit of Happiness: The African American Diaspora in the Revolutionary War – 6:30 p.m. to 8:00 p.m. ET, Smithsonian Associates via Zoom. The webinar featured the story of Harry Washington (Wikipedia) and more:

During the American Revolutionary War, the British military made big promises to enslaved Americans. In return for taking up arms against the patriots, enslaved people won pledges from British commanders that they would be freed when Britain won the war. But what happened once Britain lost? Historian Richard Bell explores these Black fugitives’ extraordinary odyssey through the remainder of Britain’s global empire after 1783 to examine the ways they tried to pursue happiness and forge an African American diaspora.

The webinar, presented by Dr. Richard Bell of the University of Maryland, centered on the life story of Harry Washington. Dr. Bell recounted what is known of Harry’s life, much as I did in my timeline. There were few new details that I could detect, and he spent quite a while on the sad and convoluted story of the Sierra Leone settlement. Still, it was good to find this focus on Harry Washington, even if we still don’t have any sense of Harry’s own words or feelings. Dr. Bell stated there is no evidence that Harry could read or write. His voice is lost, but his remarkable life is fairly well documented through the struggles he survived. Dr. Bell mentioned a book by Simon Schama and a BBC series, Rough Crossings, about the Black Loyalists that I didn’t recognize but will track down (here’s a YouTube of Schama discussing the book).

I left the webinar a few minutes before 8pm to head over to The Wilbur Theater for the Tommy Emmanuel concert with Larry Campbell and Teresa Williams. I was seated in my good middle mezzanine seat a few minutes before Larry and Teresa came out. They played for about 45 minutes, a set of agreeable but unremarkable Americana. Larry, an accomplished guitarist, fiddler and mandolinist, has played with a who’s who of American music, notably Levon Helm and Bob Dylan. The best song they played was Poor Old Dirt Farmer with Larry on fiddle and Teresa on mandolin (YouTube), from one of my favorite albums that Larry produced for Levon.

Tommy Emmanuel launched into a set of rocket-paced tunes. He is a wizard who coaxes more notes and rhythmic sounds out of an acoustic guitar than you would think humanly possible. He’s also an enthusiastic Australian entertainer with a bagful of well-honed shtick and tricks to keep the audience engaged and smiling when their jaws are not dropping at his skills. Highlights included a touching Over the Rainbow (YouTube), a melodic song to his daughter Angelina (YouTube), and the tried-and-true Beatles medley he’s been doing for decades (YouTube). As a semi-encore he brought out Larry and Teresa for a few closing tunes. It was a thoroughly professional and enjoyable show, worthy of Tommy’s rarified status as a Certified Guitar Player.

I made it back to settle in for the night and get ready for our travels the next day to Portland.