Patriots Day in Boston
Hard to fully express just how important Patriots Day is in Boston. Having grown up in Brookline, my memories of the marathon were like an annual marker of seasonal change. A time when the whole city gussies itself up and prepares to look good for our much bigger neighbors. Like when you’re forced to wear that tux in the back of your closet every year for a family event.
The city takes off the work boots and baseball caps and puts on its proverbial tux. The eyes of the world all shift to the city that birthed the modern marathon.
This is why Patriots Day is a distinctly New England form of transformative marker. It signifies the unofficial start of spring, yes, but also the end of the six months of ass-freezing shite that defines life as a Bostonian. When the running shoes and short shorts are careening down Boylston Street by the thousands, the snowy-ass assitude of life as a Boston denizen is finally taking a turn for the better.
Those ass-chafing winters have finally given up the frozen ghost. Forced to release their icicle grip on our collective nethers.
Sex lives put in storage for six months finally begin to heat up. The crisp air is just starting to turn warm. Flower scented. The collegiate boobie hotties tentatively bust out their mini-dresses for the first time.
It is renewal.
Baseball has started up again.
The Charles River no longer has ice floes on it.
College kids all over Cambridge, Boston and Brookline are finishing up their classes and preparing to search for summer jobs scooping ice cream or maybe that dream job at Newbury Comics will finally come through.
And there’s the marathon to usher in the change.
Boston will recover.
But it still feels like a rending of something sacred.
I was in the East Village on 9/11 and saw the second plane hit from my rooftop. So I’ve been up close with this sort of thing before.
It is awful. But it is not permanent. Recovery and healing will come.
Before I moved away from Boston in 2010 I had a tradition with my friends: Breakfast at a friend’s restaurant, Red Sox game, then bar hop to the finish line of the marathon where we would get bombed and cheer for the runners, a bunch if which we knew. Some of my friends carry on that tradition and were less than 50 feet from the second explosion. I hope we find those fuckers… I may no longer live there, but don’t fuck with my city.
Nice!!! DB1 I hear know what you speak of, good call.
Hows about we mock some ‘bags, huh?
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Too soon?
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Pussies.
^Might I suggest some preppy baggery that’s mutated through out the years in and around Boston to mock?
Watching the cops run towards the blast brought back some very painful memories for me. They get nottadouche passes according to my ‘rithmetrick.
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It’s way too soon, but there are some fertile fields of Boston mockery!
Running towards gunfire or explosions is something few of us have the guts to do.
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.I’m as big a Commie-lefty-lover/establishment-rule-hater as anyone on this site (save for Rev Chad on a bender), but still have great respect for those who do our dirty work.
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.If/when these assholes are caught (and bombers can avoid detection better than any murderers if they know what they’re doing), then the mocking should be merciless.
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.Sorry this hits so close to home DB1. I wasn’t raised in Beantown, but have spent many a pleasant day there. Now I know what Ridley Scott was trying to say in “Prometheus” — albeit in a ham-handed way: We as a species should be ashamed of ourselves.
The thing that did this isn’t part of our species.
Now an 8 year old kid is dead.
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Someone better get ready to receive the collective cock punch of 250,000,000 people that you don’t fuck with…
This all reminds me of a more innocent time, the time I realized that I had an Abraham-sized cock,…..and shit. Son. What are the other 50M of you doing Mr. Sock, La Bamba and cough syrup? I peed in a Mullattoo once. Son
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Spy Hard
I tip my hat with respect and reverence…
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…and pear. Reverence and taut pear.
J’aime La Pear. Merci, frere Jacques!
The last part of Jacques’ first link was “Moo.jpg” and I had second thoughts…..
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Fortunately, I listened to my first ones.
In order to keep all this terrorism stuff in perspective:
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-125820/US-bomb-kills-30-Afghan-wedding.html
The Bear Jew is not happy and would like to have batting practice who the clowns head who did this!
Yeah, Troy’s right. Maybe he should read this:
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http://www.amazon.com/Hunting-Qaeda-Take-No-Prisoners-Adventure-Disillusionment/dp/0760337365/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1366133467&sr=1-1&keywords=hunting+al+qaeda
RIP Little Martin. You were a good kid.
Moral equivalence between an accidental bombing and and intentional attack on civilians? Can I have “I Have No Ability To Think Logically for $200”, Alex?
If some country successfully invaded the USA, installed a new government, and then bombed the crap out of the place, Americans wouldn’t call such events “Accidental”. Also, this is NOT the first time (or tenth) time this has happened.
Troy’s allusions are reminiscent of one of those typical assertionists who usually start off some diatribe suggesting a nefarious intent behind any travesty that hits a little too close to home with “I’m not a conspiracy theorist, but…” and usually involve plenty of cherry picked coincidences and misinformation that’s parroted across every site from godlikeproductions.com to whatever dank corner of the web Alex Jones in infecting on any given day. The great thing about conspiracy theories is that they provide comfort and a sense of control to those that believe them and such other superstitious bullshit like religion and sumo wresting. They have all the answers before the first investigator opens his notepad, and justice for who to blame before the last body is removed from the scene.