This past weekend I found myself in Northampton, Massachusetts. It’s not what you think: No tats, no transgender chanting. Rather, it was high time, not that kind either, to visit my mother who had taken up residence in the very same community hospital where on June 19, 1964, Senator Ted Kennedy had been brought back to life after a horrific plane crash. My mom was in the hospital almost exactly to the same day as Senator Kennedy 46 years earlier! Coincidence? I think not.
Anyway, between visits, my father and I hit the town. I tried to interest him in piercings–nipples, lips, eyebrows, I didn’t care really, not, per se, but just some puncture of skin with metal that might solidify our bond. No dice.
So we hit Spoleto’s, which bills itself as Italian, and had cocktails and pasta. The place was crowded, the streets were packed, I must have spotted no fewer than 18 restaurants!
The next day we dined at The Look Diner. You know what Europe is missing? Club sandwiches. Is there anything better than a turkey club and hot coffee at 9 A.M.? Of course there isn’t. The visual and gustatory stimuli led me to feel that I had been up all night partying.
Returning to Boston on late Saturday night, I was keel-hauled to friends in Somerville: Spiked sangria and home baked pizzas.
Tragedy struck on Sunday: Five pounds gained, nothing lost.
To top it off, I read Krugman this morning. Call him the boy who cried wolf, but I think he’s right. The Third Depression is on its way. Stock up on guns and water. Coinicidence that the Supreme Court ruled in favor of guns today? No, they know that if you’re broke, might as well be heavily armed.
Who’s that knocking on my door?
Get off my porch!
Boom! Boom! Boom!
More on The Reign of Terroir soon…
Is this a work of art or what?