Category: Boston

We’ve had a nice run of it this week, but Esta is heading home today…into the thick of a March snowstorm. And I’ll be heading out to Framingham shortly, despite the fact that the last time they called for as much snow as we’ll get today, it took me three and a half hours to drive the 19.7 miles between the two locations.

(I never wrote about this, but when I was doing Holiday Pops concerts in 2005, I had a Friday morning rehearsal followed by a call at the office. It was snowing as I drove onto the Pike from Symphony Hall, but just a dusting. By the time I got out of my call at the office three hours later, I had six inches on my car. I spent 45 minutes just getting up the hill out of our parking lot, and another 45 making my way down Speen Street to go back to the Pike…)

So hopefully today goes better.

As I was saying, it’s a little bit of a red-letter (blue letter?) day when the governor of Massachusetts is in your church. I suppose it’s nothing new for Old South, which has hosted Boston Tea Party planning meetings and baptized Ben Franklin, but it was pretty new for me. So I was interested to see how senior minister Nancy Taylor treated Governor Patrick’s presence.

First note: the timing of the governor’s visit was probably deliberate. The UCC churches celebrated Amistad Sunday yesterday—the anniversary of the first significant pro-civil rights decision by the Supreme Court, in which the abolitionists among the Congregational churches had a significant part—and one would suppose that Massachusetts’s first black governor might find the occasion worth marking. But the sermon, about mercy and justice versus the hard dictates of law, went into interesting territory. Reverend Taylor’s argument was that Amistad set a precedent that the need for justice and mercy in repatriating the seized African slaves triumphed over consideration of their slaying their captors and seizing the ship that imprisoned them.

But she also pointed out that the larger Biblical context of this incident, as well as for consideration of slavery in general during the 19th century, is even more interesting. She pointed out that there were Christians on both sides of the slavery issue, both of whom claimed Biblical support for their positions, and that in a way the Civil War was also the war that ended American Christian perception of the Bible as infallible.

At this point, I supposed, she might transition into a discussion about Christians who cite the Bible in taking homophobic or anti-gay-rights stances. Instead, the Reverend made a point about the church’s work with transgendered persons and talked about a recent case in which Largo, FL church leaders called for the dismissal of a long time city manager when he revealed that he was struggling with gender identity issues and planned to become a woman. Rev. Taylor said that Old South had offered the city council free lessons on transgender awareness, and made the point that we seek to respond with understanding rather than using the Bible as a weapon.

So I think Governor Patrick could have taken away two messages from Sunday’s sermon: not all Christians are intolerant wielders of the Bible as a weapon, and mercy and justice must sometimes trump enforcement of the law. One hopes that he takes the latter to heart as he works on how the state will interact with Homeland Security on immigration matters in the future. If there was ever a case that pointed out the need for mercy and justice in public matters, this is it.

The full text and an MP3 recording of Rev. Taylor’s sermon will be posted on the Old South site, as well as available in the sermon podcast.

Update: Of course, the governor had other concerns on Sunday as well. My heart goes out to him and Mrs. Patrick. I certainly know what it’s like dealing with depression, and I commend both of them for dealing with the issue transparently and publicly.

Before I forget, I should note that yesterday, my sister Esta and I not only went to church services with Deval Patrick (about which, more later), we also got coffee with him.

Or at least we were in the same line at the register together.

And before Esta tells the story: Yes, there was some funky music on in the coffee shop, and yes, I may have unconsciously shaken my booty just a little bit. While I was standing next to the governor of Massachusetts. Waiting to pay for coffee.

And no, Patrick fans, I didn’t hear what he ordered.

I feel rather like a bag of frozen peas these days, rattling around in the bottom of a very large, very cold freezer.

While Lisa and I were in New Jersey this weekend, we had a brief thaw that started melting the layers of ice and snow that had lingered since Valentine’s Day. Unfortunately, the French drain in our driveway is covered with six inches of ice, and the snowmelt pooled on top of that ice until it crept into the garage and the laundry room. Thank goodness that after the flood last year, there was really nothing on the floor to damage, and our neighbor was on hand to get the worst of it up with a wet-dry vac before any problems could occur.

And then, of course, we had another cold snap. So instead of alternating layers of ice and snow, we have a two-inch layer of solid ice over much of the backyard, parts of the front yard, and bits of the driveway. At least our sidewalk is clear…

Why, it was just the other day that I was griping about the unnaturally warm weather we were experiencing this winter. “It’s a sign of the apocalypse,” I groaned. “Think of the poor ski resorts. Plus all the people getting colds.” That, of course, was before we woke up this morning to single-digit temperatures. And before I realized that the glass in my office is not well insulated—or insulated at all, apparently.

Ah well. If it weren’t cold, what would I have to complain about?

This is going to be a year without skiing for me, actually, for a number of reasons. So I guess the main reason I missed the cold was that I got acclimatized to it. Suddenly that’s not sounding like such a hot reason to want it to be cold.

Um. I can’t feel my fingers.

Anyway, now it’s cold and winter can officially roll on. Just a little late, but that’s ok. Geez, it’s hard to type when I’m shivering this hard. Maybe I ought just to lie down on the office floor for a minute. It looks warm and comfortable…

Brr. Ah, OK. The word is that there’s a damper stuck open in the heating system that is pulling cold air into the office. Perfect timing.

Under duress, a lot of traditions can go by the wayside. Example: we couldn’t find cotechino this year, having gotten started on our shopping a little too late, so we will be ringing in the new year with salmon and lentils instead. Oddly appropriate, given the little tidbit that Zalm dug up earlier this month about Christ being of the lineage of Salmon. This will be an adaptation of the redoubtable salmon with favetta and citronelle that we learned to make in Seattle, with lentils instead of favetta since we’re clearly in the wrong season for fava beans.

Other than that? Same tradition as before: going to bed early on New Years Eve. But this year we listened to a month’s worth of Funky 16 Corners during dinner, and I will be playing a few minutes of Redline, my new in-between hours addiction, prior to crashing for the night. So the wheel of time does move on rather than just in a circle.

I saw the series of posts last week on Universal Hub about the new MBTA site, but didn’t think too much about them at the time. It’s honestly been a long time since I’ve even ridden the T. But today I found myself needing to find a T station, and my usual standby (go to Yahoo! Maps, find your starting location, and do a Yellow Pages search for transit) just didn’t appeal. So I hit the MBTA’s web page, and lo and behold, absent the crush of people that apparently Slashdotted it on Friday, the Google Maps powered trip planner is actually useful. Who’da thunk it?

Boston Globe: FCC rules against Logan’s WiFi ban. And about time, too. For a few years Massport has trotted out every lame excuse in the book, including Homeland Security, to keep its tenants and vendors from dipping into its lucrative airport-wide WiFi service monopoly. While some frequent travelers, like me, have taken the plunge and gotten a monthly subscription to Boingo to remove the sting, there are probably still plenty of schmoes paying $8.95 for a “day pass” that will probably only be useful to you for a half hour.

Thanks to BoingBoing for the link, who also point to perennial WiFi pundit Glenn Fleishman’s analysis. I will summarize his summary of the decision:

Restrictions prohibited by the … rules include lease restrictions… Massport misreads … misconstrues … the safety exception is … inapplicable… no arguments that Massport has made give us reason to change our earlier conclusions that the Commission has statutory authority in these circumstances.

Heh.

I love watching the pro/anti discussion on the Massachusetts Question 1 (should stores with grocery licenses—basically any store that sells perishable products—be permitted to sell wine?). But the argument against Question 1 on the Beacon Hill Wine and Spirits blog (a great wine store, a lousy perspective) really made me raise my eyebrows. My response, reprinted from their comments section:

As someone with lengthy residence in both Washington and Virginia, states where wine and beer sales are permitted in groceries, convenience stores, etc, here are the advantages that I see to question 1:

• Better price on low-end/ commodity wines
• One-stop shopping (dinner plus wine)
• More retail outlets means a larger market for the distributors and might lead to a larger variety of products being available to the end customer
• Better retail hours. In my area, the small independent stores are open only until about 8

I also wonder, with tongue in cheek, why we are worried about kids getting wine. I would think that the wine industry with its rapidly aging demographic would welcome any indication that younger customers were interested in its products, rather than beer and vodka.

Finally, I have to ask what makes Massachusetts teenagers different from teenagers in other states where alcohol is available in grocery stores and other outlets. Are teenagers in MA uniquely susceptible to the pressure to drink? Are the stats on teenage alcohol consumption really tightly linked to restricting the type of outlets that can sell wine? I haven’t seen those numbers, but I would suggest that whatever it is that makes us unique as a state has more to do with the byzantine state and local liquor laws (only three stores in a chain? liquor available in one town but not another?) than any behavior differences on the part of our teenagers.

My only remaining question, as a bona fide beer snob: why can’t the question include beer sales as well? I don’t think the availability of beer in convenience stores and groceries in Washington State has hurt the sales of truly good independent or craft beers; on the contrary, there’s a huge variety of micros that arguably are harder to find here in Massachusetts (where is the championship of Berkshire Brewing Company, to name one example?).

See also the related thread on Universal Hub, where I found the original blog post.

It feels weird to be in the office and have an hour or two to myself. I was in Baltimore Monday and Tuesday, and on the road a few days last week; the rest of the week is full of remote customer demos. And rehearsals for the Moses und Aron.

About which: I have to say, this is the most challenging piece I’ve ever done. Conceptually, the chorus in this work is supposed to “humanize” Schoenberg’s twelve-tone music, but it’s difficult to be convincingly human when you’re a little terrified of the music.

I’ve written about the challenges of the piece before, but after six weeks of rehearsals they appear no more surmountable than they did before. Vocal lines wander according to their own logic without reference to other musical parts, choral or instrumental, meaning that all the clues you have as a singer to find your pitch are absent; you basically have to memorize every entrance and every melodic line. And it’s a long work. (For other perspectives on preparing for the piece, check out fanw and Eryk, whose open letter to our conductor is one of the funnier things I’ve read recently.)

Lisa and I took time off work yesterday to recuperate from the past few weeks (she had a product launch last week). We drove west along Rt 2 to see what the leaves looked like. It was a little early still but nice, as the photos hopefully show.

Our stops included the French King Bridge and Gould’s Sugar House. While the former was mostly a sightseeing post—one of the few along the road—the latter had pancakes. And syrup. And really, after a morning driving along the leaves, what more could one ask? Well, among other things, a tractor called “Lord,” apparently.

In addition to lunch, we picked up a few things from the sugarhouse, including both Grade A and Grade B syrup. (For the uninitiated, Grade A is thought of as “table syrup,” and generally runs lighter in color, but to my mind Grade B is more interesting. It’s produced at the very end of the sap run, and can have a really spectacular, slightly spicy flavor.) Between that and the 25-cent maple-syrup flavored soft serve ice cream, we were pretty well sugared up for the drive back.

It’s always good to see another MIT scientist winning the Nobel Prize. And this one, fittingly enough, is a Smoot (though not the Smoot). George F. Smoot’s work on the cosmic background radiation has significantly affected our understanding of the universe, and the findings are suitably dramatic as his official biography indicates.

On a related note, it’s interesting watching the media catch up, including Wikipedia. When I looked up smoot in Wikipedia late last night, the disambiguation page referenced only a stub article for George F. Smoot. This morning, his full article was there, and it continues to be expanded. Pretty cool.

A coworker who DJs a jazz show on WICN pointed out the Beantown Jazz Festival, happening this weekend. The opening night concert sounds like a beautiful thing to me:

BeanTown Jazz Festival kick-off concert with the Story of Impulse Records — The McCoy Tyner Septet with Charnett Moffett, Eric Kamau Gravatt, Dave Liebman, Wallace Roney, Steve Turre, and Donald Harrison.

For those playing along at home, that’s Jazz Messengers alum Donald Harrison, ex-Elvin Jones sax player Dave Liebman, sometime Ornette Coleman disciple and Marsalis Brothers associate Charnett Moffett, and of course McCoy Tyner, the sometimes transcendent, sometimes maddeningly inconsistant pianist of John Coltrane’s greatest quartet.

Which is to say it should be a tremendous evening. If I can poke my head up above the rubble of our kitchen renovation, it should be definitely worth checking out.

Boston Globe: Church’s new sound is meant to be appealing. The new bell wheel, which will allow the bell at Old South to be properly tolled, is beautiful—it has been at the front of our sanctuary for a few weeks. I’m looking forward to hearing it.

And looking at the picture in the Globe, I’m wondering when we can do a tour of the tower. Very cool.

Between returning from travel, working on our kitchen, my job, and rehearsals starting today for Moses und Aron, posting will be intermittent this week.

In the meantime, if anyone wants to help me out and has relevant technical presales experience, take a look at this.