Let me finish tonight with this.
I’m a huge fan of this country’s cities—New York, Boston, Philly (of course!), Baltimore, Washington, Miami, New Orleans, San Francisco…Boston, like the others, has a feel to it. If San Francisco smells like coffee, Boston is clam chowder on a cold, grey day.
When Christmas comes, say goodbye to the sun. It’ll be back in late May—around exam time, as I recall from my Holy Cross days. There’s a tremendous sense of unity up there. Maybe it comes from spending so much of the winter indoors, in close company. Maybe it has to do with the distinctive history of New England itself.
All those years of being beaten economically, all those decades of tears over “the Curse of Bambino.” Put yourself in Boston’s place. It’s one thing to lose those textile jobs to the South, the shoe industry to Italy. It’s another to lose Babe Ruth to the Yankees.








