2003-07-01 - 3:20 a.m.

Sunday was so wicked awesome.

It didn�t rain, and there wasn�t the threat of it either. Got up and did the whole I don�t gotta work today bed laze, and got ready. I wore a navy wife-beater and a cowboy shirt over it, a comfy (if too big) pair of jeans, and sneakers.

Caught the 88 to Lechmere with the Roommate and Peety (the pedometer), and we walked to the Hatch Shell. I was under a greenish influence, so I ended up taking the long ass way by accident, but we got there nonetheless, and we weren�t too late to meet the Roommate�s friend J.

From there, all the way down the Charles to Kenmore, and then past it--I was trying to hook up with the Emerald Necklace, but I overshot it. After a little more stumbling and doubling back, we got some coffee at Mass Ave and Newbury, and from there down Boylston to the Fens.

After more than enough of the Fens, I was finally able to guide us to the old Sears building (now Landmark Center), which connected us to the Emerald Necklace and smooth sailing from thence on. Getting there was roundabout, true, but nobody had any complaints, and the point was to walk, anyway. Once on track, we tried to take side paths and at one point had to cross a stream. That was fun--J. just walked over some rocks like she was Australian. I jumped over it to see if I could. (I could.) The Roommate took five minutes to get her courage up, but she crossed just fine and lady-like and didn�t get her parasol dirty like she had feared. *

When we got to the threshold of the Jamaica Pond, we hit the Sugar Bowl. I don�t know if I�m calling it the Sugar Bowl because that�s what I called it when I was a kid (it�s a great big valley), or if it�s actually called the Sugar Bowl, but I rolled down it. (On purpose.) That was fun, and worth the cuts and grass stains. I actually did it twice--the first time for fun, and the second time �cause my bumped up brain reasoned that I might never be stupid or young enough to ever do this again. The second roll was much more turbulent--I kicked around to gain momentum, whereas the first time I let gravity do all the work. I had to search for something that flew outta my pocket--it was at least fifteen feet away from my north-south path,

We did about one quarter of the pond--I got to tell my famous pond story--and I later got to relive the secret fun trick from my childhood with the fountain from the boathouse. I also washed a ton of dirt from my arms.

I felt great the whole day--walking around in the sun. Every now and then, when I got hot, I threw modesty to the lions and let my cowboy shirt down, soaking my bare arms in fresh, sunny air. That happens about once a year--usually early on in the summer.

Oh, and what a nice way to welcome summer. It wasn�t sticky--it wasn�t 95 degrees. It was nice and low-80s all day, and I can live with that.

My plan was to head to the Arboretum from the Pond and from there to Doyle�s for dinner. We had already done about ten miles at that point, though, so we took Pond St. to Centre, and had some dins at the Gallway House. That was fun--the Gallway House was the mecca of fine dining for my family when I was a kid--two or three times a year we�d go there. You got salad with your kid�s spaghetti and one meatball, and they served it in a wooden bowl! And they had a high-tech digital sports ticker (not there anymore). That was pretty cool.

The Roommate and I had Buds (drafts) and they were soooooooo good and sudzy. Oh god, so good, so good. We had sausage and pepper subs too. But those Buds. Christ, I�d pick that Bud over any Boddington�s any day of the goddamn week.

After that dinna, I got the feeling that none of us was in the mood for walking to Forest Hills to do the whole Southwest Corridor Park, so we walked up towards Green St.

We passed by Hi-Fi, and they were taking down the sign. So sad. It was so sad, but the lady who owned the store was there, and she let us in for one last look. The place was completely empty, save for a wall of show posters and tapes and records on sale for a buck each. Slim pickins, but I got Queen Elvis by Robin Hitchcock on tape (I was actually no longer in possession of that recording), as well as Boston, Mass by the Del Fuegos. Both tapes fit snugly in my back pocket.

From there, down Green to Lamartine, where we did the Southwest Corridor to Roxbury Crossing. We said our goodbyes to J., and caught the 66 right away.

The back of that bus could have doubled as a greenhouse for orchids, but we did get to Harvard with twilight on our side, and we enjoyed a couple of delicious beers at Shay�s. From there, we were going to take the 86 back to Union, but I heard a familiar sound and, yup, it was Mary Lou Lord playing outside the Coop.

And that was awesome. She asked if anyone had any requests, and was a little stunned that I knew so many of her songs (she couldn�t remember how to play all of �em--it�s not like I made her play eleven requests for me). She did play I Figured You Out--I�ve requested that song five times (once at Park Street, once at Government Center, once at a show by City Hall where she played with Aimee Mann, and twice in Harvard Square), and she�s honored each one.

I bought her live CD, which I was glad about. I wanted to buy it last time I saw her play, but some jackass who asked her if Mary Lou Lord was her real name got the last copy that day.

CD in back pocket, and a block later, I thought why the hell not to myself, and went back and asked her to sign it. We made some more small talk, and then she kinda gave me this look like when is this guy gonna go away?. So I folded my arms and said So I�m glad I have the CD, and I�m glad you signed it, but, uh, you can�t keep the pen, which I had been waiting for her to return. And that was funny.

Waited for the 86 for way too long, so we finally settled for a 69 to Lechmere, which was wrong for so many reasons (if we wanted to go to Lechmere, we could have just taken the E-line from J.P., and we had already seen a 69 go by which meant the 86 was due, and once at Lechmere, if we didn�t get the 88, we�d end up walking up the goddamn hill anyway, but a half-hour later), but both of us just wanted to get on a goddamn bus.

The bus driver was kinda weird and kept shouting things over the automated stop announcements. He mighta been drunk, but I think that the experience was actually a rare run-in with one of those brilliant townies that fascinate me so. I�d like to talk more about them, and I�ve tried to with people I trust, but I just can�t describe it right. Anyway, as he pulled in he shouted Lechmere. Bus and subway connections. Fireworks.

And there really were fireworks--and they were pretty and loud. Pretty bombs. I learned the next day that they were for a celebration for soldiers returning home from the war.

But fireworks are for everyone, and it was fun hanging out with the Roommate at the Lechmere Transit Station / Wind Tunnel (the coldest place on Earth in the winter), and without need for a jacket, and it was fun being colorfully reminded there that light travels faster than sound--reassuring that the laws of science still work. Not many things I learned in grade school are still true today.

We caught the 80, which goes almost as close as the 88, and the little walk home brought our total for the day to fourteen miles. We drank a few more beers and watched the last few hours of V--The Final Battle. So that�s done with. A great way to wind down, and I fell asleep swollen and parched from my labors of fun.

Teh end.

*(hey baby--it�s all fair game.)