Ah…what could be more interesting than being a wide-eyed visitor in a place where the machinations of history abound with colourful characters …
Ah…what could be more interesting than being a wide-eyed visitor in a place where the machinations of history abound with colourful characters, lively revolutionaries, legendary institutions, world class marathons and revered sports teams?
Boston, established in 1630, is one of these places, where, if you pay attention real good, stand real still and listen real hard, you’ll be communing with nightrider Paul Revere, writer Edgar Allan Poe, Samuel Adams- who besides having a legendary beer named after him was one of the Founding Fathers of Confederation, and the Spock himself, (Leonard Nimoy), in no time at all!
My My….the things you learn here riveted readers!
But before we séance ourselves back in time, let’s briefly revisit Boston’s celebrated public library. See the previous blog on Boston’s library
Some (O.K. 85%) of my high school teachers agreed that I was a much better student of Yorkville’s hippie lifestyle than I was of Chemistry, Latin, or French…in fact, on parents’ night, my Grade 11 teacher advised my parents that I would be much (much!) better off taking a double lunch than his math class. (If you’re too young to know what Yorkville in the 60’s was all about….. have I got some stories for you!). But my peeps…. I digress.
The point is, even a double-luncher, expert class skipper cannot resist the lure of BPL’s vacuum of silence study hall with its marble busts of scholars illuminated by the soft glow of glass-green table lamps, as wisps of algorithms and French verbs dance like a fine mist over students’ heads. Geez the sight of it almost made me long for those good old-very painful, skool days. Almost? Like who am I kidding!
Of course, even hard-core students need a break, and what could be better than taking five in the library courtyard, where people mill and fountains spill.
It doesn’t take long for a busy afternoon of walking, (Boston is an amazing city to walk!) to drum up a girl’s hunger, not to mention an insatiable thirst (not necessarily in that order), so after a quick shower, and a little (it’s all relative n’est pas!) pre-drinking, it was time for the girl gang to paint the town red- Boston Red Sox red!
(Aside: Why there were four masquerade masks in my friend’s suitcase might be a point to ponder…but then, (all together now!) what happens in Boston….you got it!..).
We Uber-ed ourselves downtown to the revered and famous (for people who are famous) Union Oyster House, America’s oldest restaurant.
Early murmurs birthing the 1771 American Revolution were whispered in the upper floor of this house, ignited by Isaiah Thomas who was publisher of the Massachusetts Spy newspaper. The upper floor of the house got busy again in 1796/97, lodging the future king of France, (1830-1848), Louis Phillipe 1, who, exiled from his own country, earned his keep by teaching Le Francais to the well-heeled oooo-la-la Boston women.
Which brings us full circle mes amis!
Exactly Who Was Secretly Shucking Oysters with JFK in his private booth on the second floor of the Union Oyster House, one of Camelot’s favourite places to dine when in Boston?
Our prehistoric waiter, (who claimed he’d worked at the restaurant for 50 plus years) was not exactly forthcoming when asked if a certain sexy blond bombshell, who shall remain nameless, (her initials are MM) had been sighted doing some shucking in JFK’s private booth.
“I dunno; I dunno,” he said with a cagey smile.
At that exact moment a loud cheer and a wispy, breathless chorus of Happy Birthday burst forth at a table directly behind us.
Happy Birthday, Mr. President…… Happy Birthday to Yooooooou!
I think not!
Keep shucking and lobster on.
Next week we’re all taking the ferry to Martha’s Vineyard! Sign up for my blog alerts