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In Sight, April/May 2008

2008-05-26T09:26:00.001-07:00

I haven't been writing, but I have been taking photos. Here are some:

Travis is wicked cute.

Shopping for books in Downtown Crossing at one of New England's oldest bookstores.

On Beacon Street, the day before the marathon.

About 25,000 people ran the Boston Marathon this year.

Springtime in Boston is absolutely beautiful. ("Did you know there are actually four distinct seasons?" asked the man from Florida, where the two seasons are "Miserably Hot" and "January.")

And, of course, the random Beacon Hill street shot.

The silence is broken

2008-05-26T08:34:00.001-07:00

Hello again, journal. No, don't back away. You remember me, right? You could you forget the drivel with which I once prodigiously lined your pages ... Right, you don't technically have pages … but you're picking up what I'm throwing down.

Let me fill you in on what's been going on.

Right now, my apartment is an unholy mess as I condense my life into modular, stackable cubes. Yes, I'm moving. In five days.

Clean and neat, before the move.

Jacked up. It's much, much worse now.

There is good news. For one, I'm not moving far:

View Larger Map

The front of the building.

The building's entrance is to the left; the subway's elevated tracks, where the Red Line enters the Beacon Hill tunnel after crossing the Charles River, is visible at the end of the block.

And, second, the apartment is great: two bedrooms at the flat of Beacon Hill; a century-old building with good closet space and exposed brick walls; around the corner from bustling Charles Street and dozens of restaurants, bakeries, and shops; across the street from the Charles/MGH subway stop. And the rent is only $100 more than I'm paying now. Considering all the other two-bedroom units on I saw were shoebox-sized, fifth-floor walkups that were at least $2,200 a month, I'm happy with the deal I got.

I'm not happy about moving, though. I don't have a car (solution: Zip ~~Car~~ Truck). I'm here by myself (solution: my brother Andrew is coming to help me move/visit. Yes, he's that awesome.) I live on a tiny, one-way street that makes moving a hellish experience (solution: there is none).

Oh, and I have to move Saturday night after work, around 9 p.m. Don't ask.

Whatev. On the bright side, if Andrew and I hurry and finish moving my stuff, we'll have more time to hang out and see Boston. It's not like I have too much stuff, anyway; I've divested myself from quite a bit in anticipation of JENN'S ARRIVAL.

Before June is out, we'll be a whole family again: Jenn, Robert, Abbey, Travis. That which I've daydreamed about for a year — summer picnics on the Common, strolls down Newbury Street, lazy evenings on the Esplanade, getting lost in the North End — is about to come to fruition. I don't need to explain how excited I am.

And then, the hitchin'. Everything is ready, save for small details. We've lit the fuses of the fireworks show; now we just wait for them to burn down. Then it's off to Mexico, and then back to Boston … and the rest of our lives.

The job has been going quite well, and I'm quite proud of the work that I've been doing. You can see some of it here. And starting tomorrow, I'm on a new schedule, too: 1 to 9 p.m. If I keep this up, I'll have daytime hours before too long. Man, that would be great.

Lastly, my boss, the design director, asked me if I'd be interested in going to the Society of News Design's annual conference in Las Vegas from Sept. 7-9. Uh, yeah? Sure, it's more traveling in the most travel-heavy year of my life, but there's no way I'm going to pass up that opportunity. ... You know, to play blackjack on the company dime. I meant ... I meant to say "to learn from the industry's shining stars and pioneers." Or something like that.

So, journal, that's the scoop for now. I hope our next meeting isn't three months from now.

In Sight, April 10

2008-04-10T09:31:00.001-07:00

Beacon Hill.

Midtown Boston.

In Sight, March 16

2008-03-16T20:21:00.001-07:00

St. Patrick's Day Parade in South Boston, which drew almost 850,000 people in years past.

In Sight, March 6

2008-03-07T09:27:00.000-08:00

Myrtle and Garden streets in Beacon Hill.

In Sight, March 3

2008-03-04T09:52:00.000-08:00

Providence, R.I.

In Sight, Feb. 25

2008-02-25T17:02:00.001-08:00

The bridge over the frozen duck pond in the Public Gardens.

Boylston Street.

Can you tell I like the Public Gardens? I should probably move on, now that I finally got good, clean tripod-stablized RAW shots with the DSLR.

Look for a trip down Commonwealth Avenue soon.

A few random things

2008-02-25T11:37:00.001-08:00

Travis sits in the window as snow falls outside.

First thing's first: T-Rav is now with me in Boston. I brought her up a couple weeks ago, and she seems to be happy. I know I am. I'd forgotten how nice it is to curl up on the couch with a cat.

* * *

I was slightly disappointed that "There Will be Blood" did not win Best Picture. Although I loved "No Country … " I liked the other film better. Also, why didn't "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly" win the cinematography award? Related subquestion: When did they allow the Academy to start smoking crack?

* * *

I wanted to go to New York today, just for the hell of it, but I misjudged the Fung Wah bus' popularity: They were all booked in the morning, and taking an afternoon bus to NYC wouldn't have made any sense. LESSON LEARNED: Buy tickets ahead of time. (Maybe I'll go next week.)

* * *

Winchester, Mass.

I took the train up to Winchester to visit The Griffin Museum of Photography. I wanted to see Stephen Wilkes' "Ghosts of Freedom" exhibit. Wilkes photographed a long-abandoned hospital complex on Ellis Island, and he produced some truly striking images, like the one below.

To see more, go here, or come to Winchester.

* * *

I've been hunting for two-bedroom apartments in the North End and Beacon Hill. The BH apartments I'm interested in all feature roof decks, which is an awesome bonus; the North End apartments are smaller, but, hey, it's the North End, where there are more than 100 eateries in a 1/3-square-mile neighborhood. I hope this apartment we find will be our last, and Jenn and I can buy one next year in the South End. We'll see.

* * *

In this week's New York Times Magazine (which has a terrific cover story on Afghanistan), I noticed this ad. Now, is it just me, or does this guy:

… look kind of like:

… a chubby Kurt Vonnegut?

* * *

More later, possibly.

Where can I get a cup of coffee around here?

2008-02-14T12:50:00.001-08:00

I haven't decided if this map of the number of Dunkin' Donuts in a 5-mile radius of downtown Boston is scary or awesome.

Paging Mr. Davis

2008-02-03T07:57:00.001-08:00

I finally updated my News Page Designer portfolio. Check out what fun I'm having in Boston!

Hey, I remember you ...

2008-02-02T10:46:00.001-08:00

No, this blog isn't dead; it's just been sleeping. Winter hibernation, if you will.

I normally work from 1 to 9 p.m. on Saturday — we have early deadlines so the press room can handle the 630,000-paper run — but my schedule was changed to 3 to 11 p.m. So instead of using these extra two hours to do something productive, like work on wedding-related stuff or buy beer (don't judge me), I've decided to write a blog entry. This poor blog; I seem to write in it sporadically and then, after leaving cab fare on the nightstand and promising to call, depart for several weeks. Whatever. If it didn't like this treatment, it would've left a long time ago.

The Super Bowl is tomorrow, and I admit that I'm quietly rooting for the Patriots to lose. It's only for selfish, personal reasons. (It would actually be really cool if they won because, given the Celtics record and performance, Boston is likely to have champions of all three major sports in one year.) Here's why I want them to lose: They're planning a victory parade on Tuesday, which, if you've been following the news, is the same day 22 states go to the polls for presidential primaries.

So in addition to our Super Tuesday special section, we'll have to do a Pats victory special section. We're calling in 20 copy editors, six slots, four layout people, two designers ... and every top editor. (They're actually worried about having enough computers on the news desk.) And with the contest in California, our reporters will be updating and rewriting all the way through 4th edition (3:30 a.m.) ... so it's going to be a very long, very late night. But if the Pats lose ... no special section. Go Giants! :D (No, seriously, it will be fun. Tough, but fun.)

* * *

Right, so I've taken on a second job: Wedding invitation designer. I've made six so far, but I think Jenn and I have decided on one:

Simple, elegant … it says everything we need it to say.

Although some of the designs borrow heavily from ones I had looked at, most were complete originals. They won't win any awards, but it was fun designing something other than news pages.

Now, to get them printed. Perhaps I'll use Boston-based Crane Paper Co., which supplies the paper for US currency. In that case, I will design the invitations to look like $100 bills — and then use them to fund the wedding! Brilliant!

* * *

Mmm ... tiny new laptop ... is it Christmas yet?

* * *

Right now, my neighbor from across the street is hanging out of his window, toying with the weather insulation around the window. If he falls, that will be my In Sight picture for today.

Computer included in foreground for sense of place.

Because the streets are so narrow in Beacon Hill (this one has to be about 30 feet), we all look in each other's windows. One of my neighbors reads the Sunday Times in a chair by the window every week; another watches the late airing of the Daily Show almost every day. Another, a man, likes to walk around in a sweater and boxers. Me? I'm normal.

Maybe when it warms up, I'll start a game of catch, or maybe a Nerf war, from my fire-escape-that-goes-nowhere, aka the flower escape.

Now, it just needs to warm up.

* * *

I'm heading to Jax Vegas next week, and I'm looking forward to seeing Jenn and my friends and family. And the best news of all: I'm bringing someone home with me. TRAVIS! Yes, my dear, sweet cat has been spending the past seven months with my pre-wife, and I've missed her terribly. But, soon, we'll be reunited. I just need to spread the word that Travis is coming to Boston. The people here will be wicked stoked.

2008-01-16T09:22:00.001-08:00

RANDOM STUFF

• In order to see "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly" last week, I had to go to this theater in Cambridge, the directions to which included "Go through the lobby of the Marriot Hotel to Broadway" then "walk down Broadway until you pass over the train tracks." Clearly, it wasn't the easiest place to find.

• This coffee creamer I've lately been using comes in two varieties: fat free or sugar free. Why can't they tinker with the formula and produce creamer that is both fat free and sugar free? Why do they make me have to choose?

• Cat Power's new covers album "Jukebox" is terrific. It's an extension of the soulful sound she achieved on "The Greatest," which was one of my favorite albums of 2006. Funny, the first time I heard Cat Power on "Moon Pix," I didn't really like her; many of the songs were so sparse and slow. The newer stuff has so much more feeling and many more layers. You should buy this album.

Speaking of Cat Power, I have to add her to the list of Concerts Robert Would Be Able to Attend If He Had a Daytime Job:

Cat Power *NEW!*
~~The National~~
~~Voxtrot~~
~~Clap Your Hands Say Yeah!~~
~~The New Pornographers~~
~~Spoon~~

Let's just hope The Magnetic Fields and Radiohead don't make it on to that list.

TRAVEL PLANS

Jacksonville, Fla., as it's seen today.

• I'm returning to Jax Vegas in early February, to see my wife-elect and get my fix of friends and family. There might even be some Pearlage thrown in for good measure. Plus, it will be nice to escape the chill.

A bustling street in New York City, 2008.

• I feel like getting out of Boston this weekend, so I think I'll go to New York to see Chris and hang out in the (even bigger) city. That reminds me: New Yorkers who refer to Manhattan as "The City" regardless of where they are in the country annoy the hell out of me. Like "Are you going to go into The City or stay in Boston for New Year's Eve?" Um ... I kinda thought Boston was a city ... but ... oh, right ... it isn't The City. New York, I love you. Just not your snobby residents.

A modern-day Periodickal of Current Eventf in Bofton-Town.

See? British soldiers don't massacre* people in just any old town. Take that, New York!

* Only seven people died, but, hey, we needed a reason to get pissed off!

In Sight, Jan. 14

2008-01-14T10:04:00.001-08:00

Ch-ch-ch-changes.

sigh Snow is still magical to me.

2008-01-14T10:03:00.001-08:00

It's expected to snow about 10 inches today, with more on the way during the next week. So this is what winter is like?

In the Common. Traffic, vehicular and pedestrian, was light today because school and work were canceled for many people.

In the Common. Boston is a beautiful city to begin with, but I think it looks gorgeous under a coat of fresh snow.

In the Public Gardens.

In the Public Gardens.

Louisburg Square In Beacon Hill.

Mt. Vernon Street in Beacon Hill.

Astonishing story; beautiful photography

2008-01-13T21:28:00.001-08:00

I highly recommend this film, even though I was bawling like a baby bitch at one point.

(By the way, I will write something of substance in this blog. One day.)

In Sight, Jan. 7

2008-01-07T16:46:00.001-08:00

Boylston Street, seen across the frozen pond in the Public Gardens.

Brilliant.

2008-01-05T22:44:00.001-08:00

Amateurs.

2008-01-03T09:28:00.001-08:00

In Portland, Ore.

The last few days

2008-01-03T08:51:00.001-08:00

I had planned on doing several errands this morning, but it's too damn cold outside. The temperature was 9 this morning, and the wind chill made it feel like -10. My windows are all opaque with frost, despite the clear, sunny day.

Because the outside world is closed for awhile, I might as well use this time to put up pictures and such.

Fitting in with the locals at the ducklings statues.

Jenn's visit was great, but, as always, too short. This time especially. Apart from the overall excitement surrounding our engagement, we had a blast in the city doing all sorts of fun things that I've been wanting to do, but had no one to do them with.

The Spot where it all went down.

We walked the South End, looking at different streets on which we might search for apartments in a few months, and we celebrated our engagement with dinner in the North End and champagne and fondue at a jazz club in the Leather District.

The next day we spent baking cookies my grandmother sent us and watching movies, and we went out for Thai and, later, a trip into a pharaoh's tomb in this cool, interactive adventure game in Fenway.

That door/woman is so short/tall.

Later in the week, we walked The Freedom Trail and had a St. Louis-style dinner with Imo's Pizza, toasted ravioli and a salad with Provel cheese. We waited for snow that dinner come until morning, and I turned Jenn on to something that might test the foundation of our relationship: Dr. Mario. Jenn is now hopelessly addicted, and I might need to rally my friends for a SNES intervention.

Then came Dec. 31. We decided to experience First Night which is an outdoor artistic and cultural celebration on New Year's Eve. It started in Boston in 1976 and it has spread to other cities in the U.S. and across the world, and it features music, dance, comedy, art, ice sculptures and fireworks.

It was awesome, which is probably why it typically draws 1 million people to downtown Boston. I could definitely see us doing it again, and next year we would have a good idea of how to best spend our time and where to go, because the options are almost overwhelming.

Copley Square.

Ice sculptures in Copley Square.

Boston Common.

Ice sculptures in the Common.

Happy New Year!

We counted down to midnight, went home and drank champagne and talked about what an exciting year 2008 will be. It will be busy — we have to find a job for Jenn, find a two-bedroom apartment in the city, move Jenn and her stuff up here AND plan a wedding — but we're both looking forward to it.

The start of a new life

2007-12-29T12:38:00.001-08:00

After weeks of planning and patient anticipation, I finally did what I've been wanting to do for months: Ask Jennifer to marry me. And, through tears of joy, she said yes.

It was perfect, and it was worth all the effort I made — from using my vast information networks to get her ring size to getting a ring; from secretly traveling to St. Louis to ask for her parents' blessing to the proposal itself.

She arrived in Boston late Thursday, and we exchanged Christmas gifts when I got home from work. We went to bed, but I could barely sleep from the anticipation of the next day. When we awoke, we laid in bed talking for what seemed like an eternity, but I didn't want to rush her out of bed and make her think that something was up. So we took our time, and when we finally got up, I told her we needed to get some groceries and, "if you're good, we can stop at Tealuxe" — a gourmet tea cafe in the Back Bay — "and have a cup of tea."

We dressed in our sweaters and coats — it was still cold, despite the pretty, sunny day — and made our way to, unbeknownst to her, The Spot.

So the children's book, Make Way for Ducklings, has played a small, but cute, role in our relationship. It's the story of a mother and father duck who fly to Boston and eventually decide to make a home for themselves and their ducklings, Jack, Kack, Lack, Mack, Nack, Ouack, Pack, and Quack, in the Public Gardens. The book prominently features the Common, the Gardens, and Beacon Hill, and we both fell in love with it. I sent her a copy of the book in September as a surprise, and she loved it.

Well, to commemorate the park's role in the story, artist Nancy Schön crafted bronze statues of the ducklings and placed them in the Public Gardens. And every time Jenn comes to Boston, we always try to go see the ducklings.

I knew that's where I wanted to propose; it was a place that had meaning to us, and it was a place we could always come back to and reminisce.

As we crossed the street into the park, my heart was pounding. This was the moment that I was dreaming about, the moment whose anticipation kept me awake so many nights. I gripped her hand tight as we walked into the park and strolled up to the ducklings.

"Aw, there's the ducklings," she said.

"I know!" I said. "Hey … could you take my picture with the ducklings?"

"Sure."

"Wait, let's wait for these people to go by; I don't want to look silly."

"OK."

I could feel the ring in my pocket, and I rubbed it with my hand. Is this truly real?

It was starting to get awkward as I was just standing there and she was waiting for me to hand her the camera. I had to think fast.

"Oh, man!" I exclaimed. "That guy just got hit by a car!"

"Where?!" she said, spinning around. "I can't see anything. There are bushes over there."

In an instant, the ring was out of my pocket and down on the bricks, next to the duckling.

"Oh, I guess he's … I guess he's all right."

Perplexed, she turned around. "OK … so, do you want to hand me the camera?"

"Sure," I said. "… But first, there's something you need to see down here."

She walked closer to me and looked down. She spotted the ring and gasped.

"Do you know what that is?" I asked.

"Yes … " she said in almost a whisper. She bent down to pick it up, and she pulled in close to me.

"I'll tell you what it is to me," I said. "It's a symbol of my commitment to you, and of the beginning of our life together. And I want to know … will you marry me?"

"Of course!" she said, crying.

I started crying, and we kissed a long kiss, and held each other tightly. I've never been so happy.

"You might want to call your parents," I said.

"Yeah," she said with a chuckle.

" … But they already know."

"WHAT? They already know?!"

I explained my secret trip to St. Louis, and how I asked her parents, and she started to cry even more. We held hands as we walked through the park to Newbury Street, and I explained everything I had planned. The Grand Scheme.

She spent much of the rest of the afternoon on the telephone, calling friends and family, and it gave me time to reflect on what had happened. It was finally real, and it felt strange, in a good way. I felt very grown up.

As we walked around Boston, the city seemed even more beautiful than it ever had. The snow on the ground, the warm colors of the old brick buildings … it was starting to feel like home, and I was so happy.

In Sight, Dec. 25

2007-12-26T07:49:00.001-08:00

Fluffy delivery!

In Sight, Dec. 18

2007-12-18T22:44:00.001-08:00

Tried this scene (on Comm. Ave.) again with my SLR. Any preference?

In Sight, Dec. 16

2007-12-17T10:17:00.001-08:00

Sorry for the quality; I took these on my phone and my shivering hands made the photos blurry.

Another 7 inches of snow fell on us yesterday, and the storm later turned to dumping freezing rain, which turned to ice. It was cold yesterday, and parts of my jacket and wet hair started to freeze as I was doing errands.

Fortunately, it's a beautiful day today. Cold, but with a rich, blue sky and lots of sunshine. I can handle that.

In Sight, Dec. 14

2007-12-15T08:59:00.001-08:00

Commonwealth Avenue in the Back Bay.

Snow!

2007-12-13T22:09:00.001-08:00

Boston was blanketed by about 10 inches of snow last night, the first snowstorm of the season. For drivers, it was hell — commutes were taking three to five hours (seriously) — but for people walking or taking the T, it was ... magical.

If only work was.

Production was brutal tonight. We had a huge section, 35 columns, and the copy desk, which is normally fully staffed by 5 p.m., was empty at 6:45 p.m. (A photographer said he was stuck on Morrissey Boulevard between JFK station and the Globe — normally a seven-minute walk for me — for two hours.) We produced only two editions, half of what we normally do, because deadlines were so difficult to meet across the entire newsroom.

But to me, the first snowstorm was a pleasure. There are few things as beautiful as the first snow, I've come to discover. The landscape becomes almost magical, and if you're all bundled up and wearing boots, it's almost hard to want to go indoors. I was in such good spirits this afternoon, and even though the snow was up to my calves at some points during my walk home tonight, I didn't mind.

The Common.

The Massachusetts State House.

The steps from the Common that lead to my neighborhood.

Joy Street in Beacon Hill.

… I'm so glad I don't have a car.

Joy Street.

In Sight, Dec. 12

2007-12-13T08:19:00.001-08:00

Outside Macy's in Downtown Crossing.

2007-12-11T07:58:00.001-08:00

View Larger Map

(This image, which you can manipulate with your mouse, shows my apartment building on the left! Weird!)

Google Street View is now available for Boston, along with many more cities. I hear Jacksonville and Atlanta are coming soon.

Driving tour of Boston

2007-12-07T11:07:00.001-08:00

Although Google Maps' Street View isn't yet available for Boston*, an imitator, EveryScape is. And EveryScape has a cool option: AutoDrive, which is an optional mode that will tour you around the city. If you go here, and select Louisburg Square, you'll get a nice tour of beautiful Beacon Hill — and you'll probably drive right by my building. (You can navigate to it manually, too, if you want.)

If you've never been to Boston and want to see how pretty it is, it's a good way to get a taste.

* Though it's probably in the finishing stages — the icon, although nonfunctional, recently started appearing on maps of Boston.

In Sight, Dec. 7

2007-12-07T10:47:00.001-08:00

Snow in front of the State House.

Winterized!

2007-12-07T10:46:00.001-08:00

Before I moved here, the idea of really cold weather was foreign to me. Yes, I had seen snow and I spent several days in cold weather (try going to Paris in February), but having to deal with it every day was incomprehensible.

It hasn't been above freezing for almost a week now. Snow that fell while I was in Florida is still on the streets, and we're expecting more in the next few days.

It's not even winter yet.

But here's the best part: I don't really mind it. Seriously. I discovered early on that a few small clothing choices can mean the difference between misery and comfort. Returning from the airport the other day, I was hating life because I was underdressed, yet yesterday, all bundled up, I decided to not go home immediately after work and stroll through the icy park.

Yes, you wear a lot of clothes. But I'd rather spend a few extra minutes dressing and undressing than be miserable. Here's what I wore yesterday:

• Long-sleave T-shirt
• Sweater
• Royal Navy-quality peacoat
• Underwear
• Thermal underwear
• Corduroy pants
• Scarf
• Knit cap
• Leather gloves
• Socks (one pair)
• Converse sneakers

The weakness was my feet, which were neither warm enough or were able to provide traction on ice. It wasn't cold enough yet for them to truly bother me, but I'd rather not have a vulnerability.

Now, I'm invulnerable, thanks to das boots.

Keen Dakota men's boots. The lining inside them is filled with air from Death Valley and they're hand made from dragon skin by Italian supermodels in carved-out volcanoes, so they're unbelievably hot. Waterproof and cold-weather rated to -25 degrees, these boots are so badass that snow melts when it sees them, from fear of being trodden upon. Yeah.

So unless the weather is in the single digits or below, people who complain about the cold here are probably not dressing properly.*

So, with that in mind ... come visit me in Boston! And bring lots of clothing!

* When I write an entry in the middle of January about how I want to die, I will grant everyone permission to throw my words back at me. It's only fair.

Stealth mission to Jacksonville

2007-12-07T10:10:00.001-08:00

I returned to Jacksonville last week to be with Jennifer to celebrate our one-year anniversary. Well, that's what I told her. I really wanted to remember what it felt like to have 80-degree weather in December. (But don't tell her that.)

It was so hot on Dec. 1 that moments after I snapped this photo, the tree at The Landing spontaneously combusted. Back in balmy Boston, it was 17 degrees and the trees were shivering.

Jenn and I went to the annual Douglas Anderson Chili Cookoff, which was our first date last year. Last year I spent all night nervously trying to be funny and hoping that the red wine would make me look handsome; this year it was spent dodging allegations of recruiting the school's prized math teacher to come live in New England … and hoping the red wine would make everyone forget that painfully obvious truth.

Kidding about that last part. We had a terrific time and I enjoyed seeing some of our mutual friends again.

Much of the rest of the time Jenn and I spent exploring the city …

Whoa ... new buildings downtown.

… eating at European Street …

Despite multiple stab wounds, the Chocolate Beast still terrorized Jennifer, forcing her to eat it to death.

… and performing lewd acts on each other in public in full view of the paparazzi. (Good thing there weren't any cameras capturing my stripper dance on the Skyway … hey, it has poles! What else was I supposed to do?)

Heeeeey!

Later that weekend, Jenn, Pat, and Denise (AME of Visuals at the T-U and my former boss) boogied at Eclipse. We had the whole dance floor to ourselves because, apparently, no one parties on a Sunday night like three journalists and a teacher.

The best part of having a club to yourself is the DJ takes all of your requests.

I was able to see the family for dinner one night, but most of them weren't home: two brothers were working and my mom was in South Florida, helping a friend recover from surgery. My dad, who recently returned from China and Brazil, was home, and he told us of his adventures in the Worker's Paradise.

I'll leave off with a pair of photos of something so typically Jacksonvillian that i grew homesick when I spotted them:

A bitchin' Trans-Am, and upon closer inspection …

… a declaration: "GAS, GRASS, OR ASS/NOBODY RIDES FOR FREE!!" Words to live by, I suppose.

In Sight, Nov. 23

2007-11-23T12:37:00.001-08:00

2007-11-21T22:02:00.001-08:00

Why didn't I see this film years ago?

Hint, and you shall receive

2007-11-20T21:02:00.001-08:00

The other day I was talking to my boss and I told him the 5-year-old Mac G4 I was using was a little slow.

Truthfully, it was really slow running modern programs like Photoshop CS2. But, hey, I don't have to pay the bills, so I'll stick with what they give me.

Well, to my surprise, look what was waiting for me when I got to work today:

A new quad-core Mac Pro and a 30-inch display! Holy crap!

I wonder if I should *hint* that my computer back at home is "a little slow" …

First snow of the fall

2007-11-20T07:58:00.001-08:00

It's snowing outside right now. It's not quite cold enough — it's only 37 degrees — and the snow isn't sticking; just melting when it hits the ground, making the streets and sidewalks look wet.

I've been sitting by my windows, drinking coffee and listening to Debussy
, watching the snow float down to the ground and vanish. It's quite soothing from this vantage, though I'm sure it won't be as nice when I walking through the gray to the subway. But that's why they make trench coats, scarves, and boots.

Yes, it's cold outside, and, yes, come January, I will be daydreaming about "warm" 30-degree days … but I've honestly been looking forward to this moment for months. At work, Beverly has been poking fun at me because every time we'd get the weather page for the last two weeks, I'd ask if it's going to snow. That led to her to turn the tables.

"Think it's going to snow tonight, Robert?" she would ask in a playful voice that implied the question was merely rhetorical.

"Why, do you think it will, Beverly?" I would respond, the eagerness in my voice quite audible.

"We'll see!" she would say, and we'd rehearse this routine each night around 8:30.

Well, it's snowing now ... and I'm happy.

In Sight, Nov. 18

2007-11-19T07:46:00.001-08:00

Ice skating on the Frog Pond in the Common.

A chilly, yet beautiful, fall day on the Common.

See this movie*

2007-11-18T09:20:00.001-08:00

"No Country For Old Men," the Coen brothers' new film based on Cormac McCarthy's novel, is one of the best films I've seen in a long time. So much so that I'm going to see it again tomorrow afternoon.

I knew I would like it: I'm a big fan of the Coen brothers, and Cormac McCarthy is probably one of the best living American writers (I started reading his Pulitzer-winning "The Road" last week). But the biggest surprise was Javier Bardem, the actor who brilliantly plays the homicidal maniac, Anon Chigurh. Tommy Lee Jones, always a good bet, is awesome as the haunted Sheriff Bell.

I could go on and on about the West Texas setting, the camera work, the dialogue ... the movie is terrific, and I'm sure it's going to win the hell out of some Oscars this year.

*Only if you like dark, violent, morally ambiguous movies that demand almost as much of you as you of them.

(-30- movie plug)

2007-11-17T08:44:00.001-08:00

When the Times picked up a Globe story that I edited, they kept the headline I wrote (and most of my edits). Can I officially call this my first New York Times headline … or am I just huge dork who is making this out to be a lot bigger than it should be?

Whatev. It made me smile this morning. :D

In Sight, Nov. 16

2007-11-16T09:50:00.001-08:00

David Ryan shot this photo at the The Arnold Arboretum of Harvard University.

Bummed

2007-11-16T09:40:00.001-08:00

What I won't be seeing in person on Thanksgiving.

I'm unable to go to Chicago for Thanksgiving. I blame that mostly on the fact I have no seniority (then again, it's tough to get seniority among a copy desk that has 40-year veterans). Someone has to put out the paper and the veterans need their vacations.

There is a silver lining, though: I'm going to Jax (again) at the end of this month, so I won't have to go two months without seeing Jenn.

And at least I'll still be able to eat well: The Globe's fête for its Thanksgiving crew is supposedly legendary. And I'll probably head out to Brookline for dessert with Tom and Leslie. So I won't have to cry myself to sleep that night. Heh. Still, I would've loved to see Jenn's family for Thanksmas. (And Chicago is pretty cool, too.)

Next year?

So long, Franco

2007-11-16T09:29:00.001-08:00

Franco. He was mine from July 2002 to November 2007.

We went through a lot together, me and him. He took me through the bayou of Louisiana, through the wasteland of western Texas and the great deserts of the Southwest to the shore of the Pacific Ocean — and back. He took me up the eastern coast to Washington, D.C., and, later, up to New England. We were victims of crime, and our stereo was stolen while he slept in my driveway in San Marco.

The car, bought from my grandmother, was nearly perfect, mechanically speaking. I heard Toyotas were reliable, but this was getting a little bizarre: He gave me 70,000 miles and asked little in return.

Unfortunately for him, I started using him less and less. Consider this: from September 2006 to November 2007, I put 6,000 miles on him — 1,500 of those were during the drive to Boston. Why? I started walking or bicycling everywhere while I lived in San Marco and, later, I moved to a great city that was rife with every car's worst nightmare: extensive and reliable public transportation. Some have asked me if it felt weird to not have a car after having one for 10 years, and I can honestly say it doesn't feel weird: I drove him twice since July, and one of those times was driving for driving's sake (I just wanted to see if he'd turn on).

It was time for him to go, and fortunately I sold him to a family friend and not just some non-rhotic-accented Bostonian.

My closest family friend — my second mother, by all accounts — Maria now owns Franco. She and my mom came up to Boston last weekend to visit and pick up Franco.

Maria and Mom in Harvard Yard. (Strangely, there were no cahs pahked there.)

They took their time heading south, stopping in New York in D.C., and I received word yesterday that they arrived Florida. I was told he ran great the whole time.

Damn straight he did, I thought.

This is so awesome …

2007-11-11T07:58:00.001-08:00

Mario Kart!

2007-11-10T06:50:00.001-08:00

NYT: Norman Mailer, Outspoken Novelist, Dies at 84

Momentum

2007-11-09T06:50:00.001-08:00

I finally feel like we're making the City & Region page look less … like a metro page. You know what I mean; big photo, five stories each day. We're making it look less like a template, and more like a vehicle for good storytelling and compelling design.

"Can you tell he used to be a business designer?"

In Sight, Nov. 7

2007-11-08T08:37:00.001-08:00

Last train downtown.

In Sight, Nov. 6

2007-11-08T06:59:00.001-08:00

It's rainy and cold in Boston.

What's going on?

2007-11-05T14:27:00.001-08:00

It seems like awhile since I wrote, but I guess it's been only 10 days. A lot happened in those past 10 days, though, so I haven't had much of a chance to update.

Whatever. You didn't come here for excuses. You came here on the promise of riches beyond your wildest dreams and, if you got my recent chain letter, offers of hot, teen girls and various genital enhancement products.

So, to answer Marvin's question, here's what's going on:

TRAVELS

I was in Jacksonville from Sunday to Wednesday of last week. No particular reason; just to get my fix of family and Jacksonville friends. I went to European Street on Sunday night, and many people came out to visit. I was surprised by how many, and it was wonderful to see everyone. It was strange because I haven't been gone long enough to feel out of place in Jacksonville, so it felt almost like I never left; like Boston was a dream.

But, as the week progressed, I started missing Boston; the city, really. Specifically, the public transportation. I had to ride a JTA bus to UNF for my lecture on Monday, and it kind of sucked. The bus was late and they run so infrequently. I'm not faulting JTA — Jacksonville has grown beyond the scope of reliable public transportation. I'm just really happy to have the MBTA, even when it gets in my juice.

The lecture went really well. I brought an exercise for the class: a story that had a bunch of holes in it, and I pretended to be the careless reporter. So as they read the story and spotted something that didn't make sense, they called me over and tried to get the info from me. The exercise promoted good judgment, which is a lot more important for a newspaper copy editor than the ability to chase down errant commas.

After class, some of the students who work for the campus newspaper, the Spinnaker, invited me back to the office, which was a nice trip into the past.

… OK, as I'm writing this, I have to admit, it still feels weird to go back there. No, "weird" is such an inaccurate word. "Old" is actually how I feel. "Out of place" is another. I admit that going from college graduate to a top 10 national newspaper in five years is impressive on paper, but I don't think I can live up to the students' idea of what that should look like. "Work hard and you'll go far" just doesn't sound very sexy. Maybe I'm just being modest. Whatever. I'll have to revisit the issue again (maybe just in my head next time).

Going home was great. It was nice to see my brothers and family … and see the dogs! I've missed them so much. But not as much as I've missed my cats. Travis, the queen, seemed to play coy when she saw me on Sunday. Then, after a few minutes, she was rubbing all over me and it was like I never left. And when Jenn and I went to bed that night, it was finally a full house again, with all four of us snuggled up. THAT was my favorite part of the trip.

The day before I left, my mom and I went for a drive in her new convertible, and we toured Fruit Cove, County Road 210 and Palm Valley. Parts of it are unrecognizable to me, even though I haven't been to that area in a year. There is so much development and this Nocatee thing? Man. I can't believe it's already starting. So long, Old Florida.

Overall, I enjoyed the trip home. I wish I could've stayed longer to see more of Jenn, but I'll see her in a few weeks in Chicago. I can't wait for that!

NOTE ON TRAVELING

I intended to bring Travis to Boston with me this time, but it didn't happen — my landlord intends to work on the apartment soon and I decided Travis didn't need to be around for all that.

In my preparations for bringing her up, however, I researched the protocol for traveling with pets. I was startled by what I read: US Air charges $80 to bring a cat aboard. Let me clarify: US Air wants me to pay $80 to shove my cute, awesome cat in a cage and place her under my seat (where my legs would go) for several hours.

Obviously, they fear the cat will disturb the other passengers. But as I climbed into the seat at 5:30 Sunday morning, I started fuming when a baby started screaming in the seat right in front of me, and didn't stop for hours.

How is this fair, that the baby can fly for free and in the arms of its mother while my cat requires $80 and a cage? I decided to write a letter, and I've included the top:

… and a solution …

Baby's First Kennel®!

I'm going to send it to US Air in hopes of a policy change.

WORK

Work is going splendidly. I received all superiors on my 90-day probation review. "Yes, you can stay," my boss told me. But more importantly, my hours are changing. Now, I'll work from 2:45 to 10:45 p.m., which will give me several hours to work on the cover design. Hoo-ray!

SUNDRY OTHER TOPICS

• THE WEATHER is cool (almost cold), and I love it. I bought Awesome Jacket, a black, double-breasted pea coat that is super warm and quite stylish (I think). The only downside to the upcoming winter is the fact that the sun sets at 4:30 p.m. now. Seriously. It's 4:58 p.m. as I'm finishing this entry, and there's only the slightest trace of light left in the sky and the sun is well below the horizon. Until I get used to this, my body is going to be a little screwy. For instance, last night I was ready for dinner around 5:30 p.m. and ready for bed by 10 p.m.
• MY MOM and Maria are coming to visit next week. Maria is buying my car and the two of them are driving it back to Florida. So long, car.

• HALO 3 is a friggin' awesome game. Tom and I played for hours yesterday.

• OS X Leopard was worth the wait. It's quite an amazing piece of software, and the new Adobe CS3 runs even faster on it. (Side note: I'm going to start freelancing editing and design services again. It's always nice to work on projects that aren't related to newspapers.)

There are thieves among us

2007-11-05T12:26:00.001-08:00

I went downstairs Sunday morning, opened the front door and walked to the street entrance of my apartment building, scanning the steps and floor. This is what I saw:

Unremarkable, I know, except if you note what's not there …

The Sunday New York Times, in its blue, plastic bag. It was stolen — again! This is the second time in four weeks that it was lifted by one of my neighbors or some high-brow passerby who spied it through the street entrance's window.

The Sunday Times, all 7,000 pages of it, is one of the things that gets me out of bed Sunday morning. And when it's not there, it rocks the axis of my very existence. In short, dear friends, I was annoyed.

I've devised an idea to prevent this from happening in the future: Booby traps. Indeed, they would require me to get up early, go downstairs, set them up, and return before the thief attempts his or her heist, which seems to lead to the question "Why don't you just pick it up earlier and save yourself the trouble?"

Well, why don't you just go about your own life letting paper-stealing street urchins walk all over you? Me, I'm a vengeful man. (I modeled myself after God in the Old Testament.) And it's time they feel the wrath of the strange man in Apt. 5.

THE TRAPS

The George-W.-Bush-Nuculer-Weapon-of-Mass-Destruction trap!

Scorpion trap!

Bengal-tiger trap!

Portal-to-a-parallel-universe trap!

Yes, the traps vary and some are easier to pull off than others, but they're all effective. If you came downstairs with the intention of stealing your neighbor's Sunday Times and encountered a Bengal tiger or a portal to a parallel universe, would you still go for it? No way. And if you did, the world is better off without you.

In Sight, Nov. 4

2007-11-04T21:57:00.001-08:00

Beacon Hill.

(I'm going to update the hell out of this blog tomorrow. I promise.)

2007-10-25T11:03:00.001-07:00

The No. 93 bus was taking its sweet time getting to my stop in Charlestown. I ventured to the oldest part of Boston to go to the Charlestown barber shop and rather than walk back across the bridge to the North End, I would take the bus and get to know the 93, a route I could see myself using often.

I had spotted the bus briefly a few blocks away as it was beginning its route winding through Charlestown's narrow streets, and I figured it would be a few minutes until it made its way down to where I was.

It had been 15 minutes, and standing in the shadow of an old building at the corner of Main and Common, I was starting to feel a little cold. Plus, I had already read the entire A section — the only section I grabbed before leaving my apartment.

What's this? I spotted a man in a blue jacket and blue trousers round the corner at the other side of the park and head toward the stop. His uniform looked familiar.

As he got closer, I noticed the T encompassed by a ring — the MBTA's iconic symbol.

"I'm the driver and the bus broke down," he muttered as he walked by me. "It's going to be awhile," he added, sarcastically.

And with that, I zipped up my hoodie and started walking toward the T station in the North End.

So beautiful, so sad

2007-10-24T22:18:00.001-07:00

I can't even begin to explain how much I love "Valse Triste" from the film "Allegro Non Troppo." Make sure you can hear the music; it's the most important part.

The cat reminds me of Abbey, which is probably why I love it.

Tea at the Taj … and more!

2007-10-24T22:13:00.001-07:00

I was wearing a freshly pressed shirt and trousers, and I was donning my corduroy blazer, yet I still felt woefully underdressed for this afternoon's event: a tea service at The Taj, one of Boston's most elegant hotels.

A few work friends and I went to the afternoon tea service, which was ensconced in a mahogany-paneled room with plush chairs, oil paintings, and a harp player.

We all joked about how ritzy the place was, but I believe we were truly all in awe over the experience, from the exotic finger sandwiches of caviar, lobster, and smoked salmon, to the rich, freshly baked pastries and sweets that arrived on triple-decker plates. Oh, and the tea … well, it was personally vetted by the "tea master" who came to ensure us that the tea had been properly tested after it arrived from India.

Then the waiter began conversing with someone in our party in perfect French. Where am I and why did they let me in here?

I wish that I could only have stayed through the entire service, but I had to catch the subway to work. I definitely recommend it to anyone with an afternoon to kill and at least $40 to spend.

IN OTHER NEWS

• They've heard my prayers and moved my shift back. Now, I start at 2:30 and work until first edition closes around 10:30. Those extra few hours will make all the difference in my work.

• The Red Sox beat the crap out of the Rockies 13-1 at home tonight in Game 1 of the World Series. The excitement around the city is palatable.

• I'm looking forward to returning to Jacksonville this week. It will be good to see friends, family, cats, and lecture at UNF.

• I wasn't too bummed about missing the New Pornographers show because I thought Neko Case wasn't going to be on tour with them. (She wasn't the last couple times they toured.) That is until I read the Globe review that lavished praise on Case's vocal performance. Dammit.

Now … I'm tired. I'm off to finish watching "Midnight Express" and try not to have nightmares about being condemned to a Turkish prison.

The reason we all truly got into journalism …

2007-10-22T08:15:00.001-07:00

… seeing our name in print. (My first Globe staff byline is above, under the illustration!)

I'm really proud of this page because it reminds me of the work I used to do with photo illustrations and graphics. Also, it was nice to be able to collaborate with the editors, rather than trying to put together something on my own in a few minutes.

Most importantly, I think this page, which was pitched one day and produced on the second day, shows that if you give me than just an hour to come up with something, I can deliver a compelling page. (Sorry, that was the speech I'll give to my editors tomorrow about the need to plan better.)

2007-10-21T14:29:00.001-07:00

Look who made banana bread today! (And who also learned how to animate photo files!)

Head of the Charles

2007-10-21T13:59:00.001-07:00

I went to watch the last day of the 43rd annual Head of the Charles Regatta, which is a rowing race up the Charles River. Fans line the Charles on both the Boston and Cambridge sides and cheer on the rowers as they race through a winding portion of the river.

Pumpkins!

2007-10-21T13:56:00.001-07:00

There was a huge gathering of pumpkins last night in City Hall Plaza. Thousands of them. The main display was a set of scaffolding, 18 levels high, laid out on the ground in a triangular pattern.

Across the plaza, on the steps leading to City Hall, there were even more …

And here's the best part: After the festival, when workers started throwing them away, they were up for grabs to anyone. So I rescued one and placed him on my fire escape-thing.

Yay for Halloween!

In Sight, Oct. 20

2007-10-21T13:51:00.001-07:00

Boston Common.

PS: I'm a dork.

2007-10-17T10:31:00.001-07:00

I'm eagerly awaiting the new OS X 10.5 "Leopard" — it ships on Oct. 26, and I pre-ordered my copy two months ago. Look at all the cool stuff it does and tell me that's not pretty damn sweet. (Plus, it should make my iMac Intel Core 2 Duo ~~waste time~~ process photos and cutting-edge design even faster.

Oh, and the new Radiohead album, "In Rainbows," is really, really, really, really, really, really, really great. Best album, I think, since OK Computer. I paid £10 for it*, but it's probably worth £50.

* If you've been following the news, Radiohead is selling the album on their Web site and charging you whatever you feel like paying.

Numbers

2007-10-17T10:14:00.001-07:00

Three-fifths of the record-breaking group.

FIVE
That's the number of people I had at one time in my apartment for a brunch on Sunday. That's a Boston record, folks, smashing the previous record of two. Those fortunate enough to be part of the experience — Jennifer, Patrick, Denise and Jill — will receive a plaque and T-shirt commemorating the historic occasion.

ONE
The number of days I was able to attend the Society of News Design's annual conference and workshop. The Sunday Globe prevented me from attending Saturday's events, but I enjoyed the Friday portion. I met a lot of folks from the Chicago Tribune, LA Times and NY Times, and some of them said, "Oh, you just started at the Globe, right?" (The fact they knew that was a bit shocking, until I read the announcement of my hire on a few industry blogs. But, still ... it did make me feel like a warm, fuzzy panda inside.) Many of the workshops I attended focused on new media and multimedia, and the idea of weaving together photography, video, design and sound is very intriguing. I have a few contacts to follow up on, if only to say how much I enjoyed their presentations.

SIX
The number of days I was able to spend with Jenn. Though it was her longest visit yet, it still felt so short. A few highlights included touring our friends around Boston; having a wonderful, romantic dinner at Taranta Cucina Meridionale in the North End; and, of course, our splendid day trip to New Hampshire.

ELEVEN
The number of days until I return to Jacksonville. It will be a short visit, but it will be nice to see all my friends again. I'm going to lecture Bob Bohle's editing class while I'm there, too, which is always fun. My proposed lecture idea: "Selling Out: Abandoning Community Journalism for the Money and Supposed Prestige of Working at a National Newspaper, or, Photographing Middle School Plays Really Blows." It'll be a great lecture; there should be something for everyone!

SEVEN
The number of days until the New Pornographers show at the Roxy. Oh, how I love living in a city that draws musicians I actually like. Now, let's just cross our fingers can find a ticket to this sold-out show.

THIRTY-SEVEN
The approximate number of days until I leave for Chicago to be a guest at the Jackson family's Thanksgiving dinner. Work details are still being sorted out, but I intend to have Thanksmas and the day after to spend with Jenn and her family. And Chicago … oh, how I love Chi-town. The fact that Jenn's relatives live right in the Loop is great, because although I won't be able to do that much in the city, I'll still be able to take in its majestic skyline.

ONE HUNDRED AND TEN
The number of minutes before I need to start walking to the subway. I should probably do … something … around the house.

If this isn't a perfect day, then I don't know what is

2007-10-16T22:48:00.001-07:00

The weather across New England is perfect and the New Hampshire foliage report says the fall colors are at their peak. The air is cool and crisp. You have an awesome travel buddy and you're both itching to get out of the city and pick some apples.

What would you do?

Here's what Jenn and I did: We reserved a new BMW 328 from Zipcar and plotted out a trip that would take us from Boston to New Hampshire through the back roads of New England.

Yes, I brought my camera.

ON THE ROAD

The farther away we got from coastal Boston, the more intense the fall colors seemed.

By the time we were just outside of Keene, which isn't too far from the Vermont border, the colors were unbelievable.

I've never seen anything like this. The farthest north I ever lived was North Carolina, and I moved from there when I was 4. I've never experienced the pure bliss that is possible on a beautiful autumn day, where the smell of chimney smoke lingers in the air, and the grass is crunchy from all the leaves.

Me and the woman I love.

Our sweet ride. BMW calls itself the ultimate driving machine. Hyperbole? No way. This car devoured those twisty New England roads. (Jenn and I hatched several plots on how to steal it from Zipcar.)

AT THE ORCHARD

Although apple picking season was nearly over, there was still plenty of delicious fruit high up on the branches at McLeod Brothers Orchards in Milford, N.H.

And, as my kiss-stealing, apple-peeling travelmate demonstrates, they had a special tool just for reaching the apples near the top.

Apples, mostly Cortlands, at all stages.

And, of course, we had to do the obvious when we returned home …

… bake an apple pie. De-lish-us.

In Sight, Oct. 14

2007-10-16T22:23:00.001-07:00

In the gardens at the Boston Public Library's main building in the Back Bay.

In Sight, Oct. 14

2007-10-16T21:53:00.001-07:00

The Hancock Tower, Copley Square, Back Bay.

So long, car. Hello, Zipcar.

2007-10-09T10:49:00.001-07:00

I'm selling my Camry to an old friend of the family; my second mother, to be honest. She's going to give it to her son in college, and I'm going to finally be free of having a car in Boston. Seeing as how I've used it twice since I moved here in July (and once was just to drive it for driving's sake), I won't really miss it. In fact, I know I won't miss it.

Why?

Because I joined Zipcar!

Whoo-hoo! This little card lets me gain access to an entire fleet of vehicles.

Zipcar is a program that lets you drive when you need to drive, and you rent by the hour or the day. Hundreds of cars, from VW Jettas to pickups to Minis to BMWs, are parked in special lots all over Boston, and if you need to drive to, say, IKEA, you can pick one up for a couple hours, do your shopping, and then return it.

There are many plans, but the one I chose cost $50 a year, and car rentals start at $9 an hour (depending on the model). Insurance: free. Gasoline: free (they give you a gas card). Lots: There are three lots in Beacon Hill and the West End.

I think the program is beyond cool and, for me, cost effective. Although I'm a subway/train/bus fiend, there are times when I'll want the freedom of a car. But I'll have the added benefit of not having to pay maintenance and insurance (which is more than double than what I was paying in Florida). Oh, and having a parking space is quite nice, too.

One more bonus: Zipcar is in all major US cities, so if I need a car in New York or Chicago, my membership works there, too. It even works with Zipcar London.

Yeah, I know this sounds like an ad for Zipcar. That's because it is. They paid me millions of dollars to write this in my blog, which is quite influential.

Right.

In Sight, Oct. 8

2007-10-08T11:48:00.001-07:00

Panoramic image* (a composite made from eight different photographs) of the Washington statue in the Public Gardens.

* I guess at 400 pixels it doesn't look as impressive as it does at 6,580 pixels (3 feet wide). Stupid Internets.

Retirement

2007-10-08T11:37:00.001-07:00

Three years later, they finally die. Considering how often I wore them, I think the $30 I spent was worth it.

In Sight, Oct. 7

2007-10-07T16:30:00.001-07:00

It's starting to look and feel like fall in the Common.

¡Nombre de coche!

2007-10-06T08:06:00.001-07:00

I just noticed the Globe's automotive writer is named Royal Ford. How effin' sweet is that?

If I were to become a car writer, I think I'd want to change my name. Suggestions:

• Loco Ferrari
• Ravenous Peugeot
• Yugo Scrüyerselph
• Maximus Volvo

What do you think of these? Any other ideas?

Work it

2007-10-04T22:41:00.001-07:00

Tried something different with a typical politics story.

From kitchen renovations comes an entry

2007-10-04T10:28:00.001-07:00

My apartment in Boston came with a dishwasher, which is quite the upgrade for someone who has been washing dishes by hand for the past four years. (Heck, just having a sink that drains properly is an upgrade from my last two apartments.) I haven't been able to use it yet, though, because it wasn't installed. And because I've been used to washing dishes by hand, I haven't missed it.

Well, today is when my life changes: Workers are hooking it up right now.

"Why should I care?" you're probably asking. Here's why: Their presence is forcing me to write in my journal. I can't leave. I can't listen to music over the work. I can't really do anything except sit at my desk and soak in just how small 450 square feet is when two people are drilling in the wall.

I started this blog with great intentions, and, in the beginning, I wrote prodigiously. Lately, though, it's been languishing. I have a few ideas why:

• Summer. Yes, the period from July to September was pretty slow once the newness of my neighborhood wore off.

• Life isn't always that interesting. On some days — usually my days off — Boston feels new and exciting. Other days, it just feels like … life. I mean, unless I run errands in the morning, see something crazy on the subway trip to Dorchester, or have a crazy cabbie on the ride home, it can feel very uninspired. But my days off are usually great, even though I'll often just go for a walk downtown. I'm really learning my way around the immediate area, and that makes me proud.

• The weather. Seriously, the fact that it hasn't really changed has made the past few months seem really long. Like there's no progress being made. It was really hot for a few days in July and we've had a couple of good spikes, but it's pretty much been in the 60- to 80-degree range for several months. On the day it fell to 40, I was happy because it was different and I got to start wearing my new fall clothes. Then it shot back to 80. Hmm.

I had a few visitors in September — Jenn and my mom — and I had a blast showing them around. My birthday wasn't really that great because I was far from my friends and family. My mom's visit was the only thing that kept me from being depressed, but, in retrospect, I really should have come back to Jacksonville. Fortunately, that will happen at the end of this month.

Things are looking up, though: Jenn is visiting again in several days and the SND Conference is around the corner, which means Pat will be up here. Pat, Jenn and me back together … awesome. I just hope I can work out my work schedule to get the time to truly enjoy the conference and everyone's visit. *crosses fingers*

Work is going well, but I'm seeing its imperfections. Well, to clarify, it's this schedule that's starting to get in my juice: Coming in at 4 p.m. to design the Metro cover and then shifting to the rim by 8 p.m. Previously, a designer would come in at noon and start brainstorming the cover and hand it off at 8 p.m. for production. I'm expected to get the same results and contribute to the editing, a double-dipping that's starting to take its toll because I often have to rip up everything and start over at the last minute. Why? Because I'm coming in too late to affect any change and too early before editorial decisions are made. Plus, unlike my predecessor, I don't have a trip home to look forward to after I finish my met front; I have six stories to edit at a seemingly breakneck pace.

The good news is that because this is a new schedule for the paper, it's open to modification. So after another month, if I can't find a way to better succeed, I'm going to lobby to start coming in earlier.

The last bit of news is my trip to Six Flags New England with Chris and Tom. It was awesome, and it was so nice to spend time with two longtime friends. It felt like old times. Anyway, here are some photos:

The Cyclone.

Robin is short. Or I'm tall. Whatev.

The Mind Eraser. I can't remember if it was cool …

My response to the jerk who confiscated my camera on the ride. It's not like I was going to take sweet pictures of the awesome roller coaster …

The teacups. LESSON: Do not drink beer before riding these. Seriously.

The Super Man. This probably would've been my favorite ride IF IT WASN'T CLOSED FOR THE SEASON.

Tom is much cooler than this Green Lantern.

Chris joined a gang.

Sadly, I died there.

I know

2007-10-01T08:40:00.001-07:00

Dear blog,

I know, I know. I haven't written in you for a while. I know, photo posts earn only half-credit. And … yes, I know. I know that not writing in you is the online equivalent of burning dinner. And you're right; you should beat me. I asked for it.

Don't worry; I'll explain the black eye by saying I was running down my three flights of stairs too quickly, fell, and — wouldn't you know it? — smacked my face against the doorknob. (Why do they install those things so low, anyway? They're just accidents waiting to happen.) No one will know, and you and I can go on.

Would it help if I promised an entry later? Would that spare me? … You … you're so kind to me. I don't deserve you. I really don't. I'll make it up to, I promise. … Oh, OK. Yeah, I'll go clean the kitchen.

-R

In Sight, Sept. 23

2007-09-23T15:59:00.001-07:00

Beacon Hill

Bob Bohle is the man.

2007-09-20T11:12:00.001-07:00

My favorite professor sent me an awesome gift as a congratulations for landing the new job.

Making something from nothing

2007-09-13T10:51:00.001-07:00

In Sight, Sept. 13

2007-09-13T10:47:00.001-07:00

Skyline of the Back Bay.

Inside one of the reading halls of the Boston Public Library.

Haiku heard over the subway PA

2007-09-12T22:37:00.000-07:00

A Braintree train,
a Braintree train,
this is a Braintree train.

2007-09-12T19:40:00.000-07:00

David Ortiz just hit a two-run homerun to beat Tampa Bay 5-4 in the bottom of the ninth. It was brilliant. And the fact that I just wrote "it was brilliant" might mean I'm becoming a baseball fan.

I can't wait for the Yankees to get here on Friday for their three-day-long ass-whipping. (I heard they had riot police at Fenway last year!)

Good morning!

2007-09-12T09:47:00.001-07:00

There's nothing like the smell of hot asphalt in the morning. The sound is pretty unique, too. Good thing I don't work nights and try to sleep during the morning … oh, wait …

2007-09-12T09:46:00.001-07:00

I keep starting to write and then stopping. I can't find a way to start an entry, particularly one I don't really feel like writing. Today, the journal seems like a chore.

"Why don't you just not write today?" Well, that is the easiest answer, but it's a slippery slope.

We'll just forget about Tuesday. It was rainy, blustery, the Sept. 11 anniversary, and the day after Jenn left, the day when I really felt it.

Seeing her again this weekend was like coming up for air after holding my breath for the past seven weeks. Seeing her again filled me with such happiness and I knew the crash that ensued when she left would be crushing.

She gave me a phonograph for my birthday. It's an antique, probably at least 50 years old. It's heavy, musty and in order for it to work, vacuum tubes need to warm up. Very retro, and very cool. And her parents sent me an old single by The Four Esquires: "I Ain't Been Right Since She Left."

Unfortunately, the player lacks a needle, so until I manage to find one, I'll have to wonder just how bad the Esquires, all four of 'em, feel.

I promised her a little Florida heat for her visit; I didn't expect that we'd tie a record at 95 degrees on Saturday. On Sunday, however, it felt like normal again and I don't think we cracked 70 degrees. She bought an adorable sweater at H&M, and we walked down Newbury Street and through the park, trying to spot the subtle changes in the leaves. Autumn is on the way.

Duck!

We partied in Cambridge, hitting up some of the bars on Central Square, staying out past our bedtime (or, rather, past the T's bedtime). We had a romantic dinner at a Persian restaurant that was carved out of a 19th-century mansion at the foot of Beacon Hill. We saw dinosaurs, giant bugs and space ships at the science museum. We road around Boston on a giant duck. (Duck Tour, that is.)

And then I took her to the airport.

It all felt like a dream, and the hardest part about these wonderful dreams is waking up.

Yeah, maybe I'm being a little melodramatic. Or maybe I'm not; perhaps it's right to feel depressed about having to spend a birthday far from your friends, family and loved ones. (Fortunately my mom is coming to visit on Sunday, which will prevent me from being a wreck.)

Anyway, that's all I have for now. Perhaps I'll post some photos later. Everybody loves photos.

Howdy, neighbor

2007-09-07T10:54:00.001-07:00

Walking up the hill from the post office, I passed Louisburg Square, which is arguably the most exclusive block on Beacon Hill. It's two rows of brownstone mansions facing each other, with a small, gated park in between. The neighbors own the park and land, and, thus, have their own on-street parking spots in front of their homes.

As I neared the end of the block, a black minivan pulled up in front of one of the most famous home in the square and its equally famous resident got out, thanked the driver and started walking toward his door. It was Senator John F. Kerry.

"Good afternoon, Senator," I said as our paths crossed. He returned my greeting with a smile before walking up the steps to his mansion.

Although Kerry earned some cool points for carpooling, I still wanted to grab him and yell, "Why didn't you try harder three years ago?!?"

Maybe next time. Until then, I'll still be pondering how weird it was to see the man who could've been president less than a block away from where I live. (And yes, he really does look like an evil villain from a Scooby Doo episode.)

In Sight, Sept. 6

2007-09-07T09:33:00.001-07:00

Last train home.

In Sight, Sept. 3

2007-09-03T18:53:00.001-07:00

The North End.

Welcome back, students

2007-09-03T17:46:00.001-07:00

They're everywhere I look. Flip-flops, backward hats, polo shirts tucked into shorts a 60-year-old would wear. No, not tourists; they would be wear hiking boots, long, white socks and fanny packs. No, these are college students, and they — roughly 250,000 in Boston and Cambridge — are returning to Boston in droves.

The street on Saturday — and I'm not exaggerating here — was choked with U-Hauls, trucks loaded down with beds and furniture, and other moving vans.

I went out to the Back Bay Saturday night after I finished work, and the area sidewalks were alive with groups of students, fraternity boys and teens leading around parents with wide eyes and pants worn too high on the waist.

As I sat near the subway entrance, waiting for my friend, I started to feel ... old. The gap between 18 and 25 seemed a lot bigger than the arithmetic seems.

Meanwhile, another emotion was brewing: The fact that I didn't really have much of a college experience — I stayed in town and finished my four-year degree in three years — made me a little envious. I'm sure it must feel exciting, particularly for a student in the Boston area: They're on their own for the first time, going to a great school in an equally great city. I felt almost overwhelmed when I got here; I can't imagine experiencing this city as an 18-year-old.

Anyway. Now, I've come to my senses, and the college students serve as a source of annoyance for me. They're like tourists who never leave, except when they stop in the middle of the sidewalk, despite the foot traffic around them, it's not to stare open-mouthed at a map; it's to high-five each other.

Jesus.

On the other hand, a benefit to having them here is the incredible back-to-school sales, designed to lure in the platinum-card-wielding parent. I bought a bunch of clothes today for a fraction of what I would've paid any other day.

Street preacher

2007-09-02T18:55:00.001-07:00

Brother Larry, who preaches every Sunday in the Common.

He's quite animated, often causing the flocks of pigeons that rest on the fountain behind him to explode into flight.

Church and state separated, by about 500 feet of green space.

In Sight, Sept. 2

2007-09-02T18:51:00.001-07:00

Boston Common.

Split decision

2007-09-01T08:39:00.001-07:00

Here's your park curfew right here.

Because of a recent spate of violence and drug arrests on the Boston Common, the city has decided to enforce the park's curfew for the first time. That means the park is off limits from 11:30 p.m. to 6 a.m., unless you're just passing through.

What that really means is 50 or so homeless people have lost their sleeping spots. I had read about the decision to enforce the curfew but its significance didn't hit me until I exited the T the other night at 12:45 a.m. and found the park, which was always littered with crumpled forms of sleeping people, desolate. It was a little eerie.

I'm a little split over the decision.

As someone who comes home very late and has to walk home through the park, it's kind of nice not to have to worry about an incident, and it's even nicer seeing park rangers driving around at night.

But, at the same time, the homeless are now scattered to the other parts of downtown, some of which aren't as safe as the common. Many of the homeless interviewed by the Globe said they don't feel safe in the shelters, which are often hotbeds of drugs, disease and violence. In the park, they band together and look out for one another.

Some of them believe they are scapegoats for the park violence — which saw a bullet smash through a window of the State House, which is on park and is where Gov. Deval Patrick works. (The homeless had no hand in the violence; it was a teenager arguing with another group of teens.) I don't blame them for coming to that conclusion.

I know some people in Beacon Hill are applauding the decision. It doesn't surprise me; rich yuppies whose biggest daily challenge is taking their dog to a pet manicurist (we have one here) aren't likely to feel much sympathy for the homeless.

I'd like to say I empathize with the homeless, but I'm afraid of exposing myself as a hypocrite. Maybe I am.

MBTA, I used to love you. Now I have to kill you.

2007-09-01T08:37:00.001-07:00

The Red Line, which was the epitome of jacked-up-edness yesterday.

Truth be told, I'm a bit of railfan. I love trains and, mostly, subways. The T has allowed me to live without a car, and I still get a thrill out of the idea of rapid transit under buildings and streets. It's relatively clean and safe, and my location puts me within walking distance of every major line, meaning, essentially, the entire city is just a Charlie Card swipe away.

As much as I love the T, however, it really got in my juice yesterday. Yes, delays can be expected occasionally, but a 40-minute delay at rush hour on Friday is bound to piss off even the most easy-going person.

Especially one who has to be at work.

Although the travel time between my door and my desk is only 30 minutes via subway, I always allow 45 minutes in case of delays. I also check the MBTA site for service interruptions an hour before I leave.

I logged on yesterday at 4:30 p.m., and saw everything was running on time. I left my apartment at 4:50 and got to Park Street Station at 5. Even though the temperature was pleasant, the subways are always hot (the heat from the lights, people and trains are insulated quite well by the streets above). Something was wrong, however — it was hot as hell in the station. As I descended to the lowest level, where the Red Line runs, I learned why: The platforms were packed with people. That's a bad, bad, bad sign.

I asked somebody what was up and she said she didn't know; they were just announcing a delay due to a disabled train. I had 10 minutes to spare before I had to worry about being late, so tried not to sweat it. Well, not literally — it was at least 90 degrees in the station and there was no air movement. It looked like everyone was leaking, there was so much sweating.

Twenty minutes passed. "I should call," I thought, but I couldn't because there was no signal that far underground. Thirty minutes passed and the same ambiguous PA message was being repeated. Finally, an announcer told us a southbound train was coming — but it was the disabled one, being pushed by another train. We all watched with sorrow as two empty trains rolled by.

Finally, minutes later another train came. Now's when the fun begins: Park Street is the system's busiest station, and commuters who've exited from the Green, Orange and Silver lines have pooled around the platforms with nowhere to go. They're all hot and they all want to get on that air-conditioned train bound for home.

First came the pushing. Then the cursing. Then the cramming. I made it on to the train and thought, "Well, I guess that'll do it. No more space here." Ha! A seemingly invisible force kept pushing me in farther and farther until everyone in the car was literally on top of his or her neighbor. Although I didn't have to hold on to anything (the human cushion worked well), it meant I was squished on my right by a guy with body odor that smelled like burnt bacon wrapped around feet, and on my left by a guy who was wearing a shirt that had to be one bartenders used to clean ashtrays.

Normally, the four stops that separate me from Park Street and JFK stations are a somewhat pleasant ride. A chance for me to ride for a few minutes or contemplate life. But yesterday it was an opportunity to work on breathing as little as possible.

Oh, and then there's work. Because I was designing the wire pages, my delay could affect the entire A section workflow (if I can't plan stories, copy editors can't read them). Getting into work 40 minutes late meant a lot of catching up. Fortunately, the paper was tiny. (Maybe there is a kind and benevolent God?)

I understand problems happen, especially when the system is as busy as it is on Friday. But seriously, the MBTA needs to communicate better. Instead of broadcasting the same vague message to a station full of pissed-off, overheated commuters, tell us what the hell is happening. "A train is disabled outside of Harvard Station. It's being removed now. A replacement train is leaving in 15 minutes." Is that so hard?

Work it

2007-09-01T07:49:00.001-07:00

Last Sunday's C&R page, with graphics by Javier.

2007-08-29T19:28:00.001-07:00

The other day I went looking for the editorial design supplies closet (specifically, these sweet graph-paper spiral notebooks), and I opened a door only to find something amazing. Fortunately, I had my digicam handy and caught the whole thing on video …

Can you believe it? At the Boston Globe?

Um ...

2007-08-24T09:28:00.001-07:00

Franco. I'm sorry, baby, I didn't mean to leave you! Well, actually, I did …

OK, so I haven't driven my car in a month. It's been sitting at the Globe, in a secure parking lot.

I should really check on it. I'm curious to know if it A) is still there, B) starts, C) drives. Maybe I'll go in to work early and take it for a spin on the Turnpike.

In Sight, Aug. 23

2007-08-23T22:28:00.001-07:00

The Esplanade.

Newbury Street.

My birthday is only a few weeks away ...

2007-08-23T11:57:00.001-07:00

The Canon EOS 1Ds Mark III.

Canon released a digital SLR that has a 21-megapixel sensor, which renders 61MB JPEG files.

A sample shot on Canon's Web site.

That same shot zoomed in at 100 percent.

That's an unbelievable amount of resolution, all for the bargain price of $8,000 for the body alone. So, should I start panhandling?

Excuses, excuses

2007-08-23T10:59:00.001-07:00

It's confession time: I like coffee better than beer. If you put out a pot of dark coffee (or even this new "smooth" Trader Joe's blend I've been drinking lately) and a pitcher of beer — and it could be any beer, Guinness, Samuel Smith, whatever — I would choose the coffee hands down. I ~~could~~ drink coffee in the morning, afternoon and evening. Beer's benefits are plenty: It calms me and makes me feel lovey-dovey; but coffee has never made me sick to my stomach. In fact, coffee keeps me alert and focused. "Hey, Rob, let's drink the hell out of some beer," is a proposition that I'll take nine times out of 10. But if you tempt me with coffee, I'll take it no matter what.

• • •

Right, so it's obvious from the above paragraph that I had no proper lead for this entry, and I didn't want to start it off by writing, "So anyway, … "

So anyway, it's been a long week. "A long week of NOT POSTING ANYTHING," you might mutter under your breath, and it would be true. No, my dog didn't eat my iMac. That's a ridiculous notion, anyway: the dog lives in Florida and she's a vegetarian.

No, this all I ever do at my computer anymore:

Pose for pictures and drink coffee.

No, really, I look at photos, listen to music and compile dozens of playlists of music for Jenn that can't seem to say "I love you" as easily as I can say it over the phone. But there's something about that phrase that doesn't sound as good over the static of cell-phone signals as it does whispered in your ear. But anyway.

Why has it been a long week? Well, aside from a bout of homesickness that's come on, it's been long because I've been working like crazy. Because I'm the FNG, I had to put in seven days in a row. "And since you're the FNG, no one will miss you when you get blown away," my uncle told me, his head obviously in the jungles of Vietnam.

Aside from the long work week, the job has been going pretty well. I feel like I understand CCI, the horrendous pagination system the Globe uses. It's really the worst thing I've ever seen; almost as bad as the first version of DTI that the T-U used when I got there. Everyone seems to be happy with my work, but it's still going to be a challenge to reinvent the section like they want me to. The editors are entrenched in their collective mindset, and the notion of running only four (and not five) stories on the City & Region front still seems like a radical concept (Sunday is the exception). We'll see ... I just have to work hard to convince them to let me try new things, and I'm happy to take on that challenge.

I've been hanging out with my friend from high school, Tom, a lot lately.

He's the one on the left.

It's been great, and I'm happy that our friendship has picked up where we left off. Sadly, the virtual Bartlett's of Simpsons quotations we held in our minds has been replaced by practical knowledge. But we've just realized there are bigger and better things in life. Like The Venture Bros..

The weather has been awesome here. While my poor friends have been steaming in Florida, the temperature here hasn't cracked 70 degrees in the past few days. It's supposed to get up to the 80s tomorrow, but a rainstorm will push it back into the 70s. Paradise, right now. And believe it or not, I'm actually looking forward to the fall and the winter. I've never had a true winter, but I think I'm cut out for it. We'll see, right?

Because it's so nice I'm starting to wonder what the hell I'm doing in my apartment, sitting at this computer, writing in a blog that probably causes most people's eyes to glaze over.

I think I'm going to go for a walk.

In Sight, Aug. 21

2007-08-21T10:48:00.001-07:00

Beacon Hill at night.

In Sight, Aug. 20

2007-08-21T10:47:00.001-07:00

Homes in the Back Bay, an old neighborhood adjacent to Beacon Hill.

Recent work

2007-08-21T10:45:00.001-07:00

"Great catch," or, Robert strokes his ego

2007-08-16T09:38:00.001-07:00

The biggest compliment you can give a copy editor is to tell him or her "Great catch." Those two words are music to our ears, and it's the only bit of gratitude we get in an otherwise thankless job. A copy editor lives for those words, and often shares stories about how he or she singlehandedly saved the paper from being wrong/looking stupid/getting sued, etc.

Last night I snagged one of the biggest catches in a long time, so indulge me as I share my story. (Now's your chance to hit the "back" button on your browser.)

The paper was running a story that focused on the bizarre gimmicks politicians are using to attract attention in a somewhat uninspiring House race. With no major issues galvanizing the campaign, few people seem to care what these guys have to say. That's why they're doing such bizarre stunts as challenging other candidates to a Wiffle ball tournament.

The story and its accompanying graphic that was a game ("Match the politician with the gimmick" and it had little photos of Wiffle balls and other stunts along with photos of three candidates) had been vetted by the metro editor, news editor, Page One editor, graphics editor and the designer. The slot (head of the copy desk) gave it to me to edit and headline about 8 p.m.

I'm meticulous for checking facts in copy. Unless the name is obvious, like George Bush, I check it. Even in wire stories. And when I started checking the names of the politicians in the story and graphic, I discovered a startling and embarrassing error: the photo of candidate Jamie Eldridge showed a smiling woman with long, brown hair.

The problem was Jamie Eldridge is a man.

I showed the Page One editor, and we jumped into the photo archive and, sure enough, the wrong photo was used.

He jumped up from his chair and walked over to graphics and asked "Who's in charge of bailing our asses out?"

Everyone on the desk was really happy I caught that, not only because it saved the paper face, but it reinforced just how important copy editors are. We're not just pedants who chase stray commas; we truly are the last line of defense.

"Great catch," the executive editor sent to me in an e-mail today. "You really saved the day."

Man, I love those words.

Hole in my sole

2007-08-15T11:03:00.001-07:00

Boston's pedestrian life is fun and healthy, but it can be hard on the sole.

My Chucks and my Skechers.

Before Boston, the shoes above were getting close to retirement. They were 3 and 6 years old, respectively. But after a month of relying only on foot or subway, I rapidly expedited their entrance into shoe heaven.

My sadness is tempered only by one thought: Time to go shoe shopping! Clothes shopping is OK, furniture shopping is ... eh ... but shoe shopping? I actually love it. And if I didn't have as much will power, I'd own a lot more shoes.

But, mark my words, I will never, ever own a pair of these damn things:

Yes, they're all wearing Crocs. An obvious recessive gene at work.

More to come on this riveting story!

2007-08-14T20:58:00.001-07:00

This is what I do all night.

A day in the life

2007-08-11T10:53:00.001-07:00

C'mon, kids, let's go through a typical day this week:

THE MORNING

I'm starting to wake up later, usually between 10 and 11 a.m. It's been a difficult adjustment, mainly because I feel guilty about sleeping through that much of the daytime. Then again, when you don't fall asleep until 3 or 4 a.m., the sleep schedule makes sense.

Mmm … coffee … and memories of E-Street …

I emerge from my bedroom and head straight to the kitchen and start a pot of coffee and toast a bagel (or pull out a skillet to start a proper breakfast.) As the machines are doing their job, I'll walk over to my desk and wake the computer to check e-mail, read a couple Web pages. After breakfast is ready, I'll either eat at the counter or sit at the computer and read the Times and whichever Globe sections I didn't get the night before.

Computer time could be short, or it could last several hours, especially if there are photos I shot the day before. (NERD WARNING: I recently upgraded the iMac's memory to 3GB, and the performance difference is amazing, especially with Aperture and Photoshop running at the same time.)

THE AFTERNOON

If the weather is nice, I'll go outside. If it's hot or rainy, I'll watch TV. Lately the weather has varied wildly. It could reach into the 90s one day and then stay in the 70s another. On Tuesday, the forecast was 87, but it never got above 72 and there was a strange foggy-while-sunny phenomenon occurring.

The entrance to Chinatown.

A great walking area. It's a little sketchy at night, though.

When I go outside, I'll usually walk around downtown, the North End or Chinatown/Theater District. Lately, though, I've started walking into the Back Bay or the South End, but it takes a while longer. Thankfully, my T pass is my new best friend. It cost $59 and allows unlimited subway and bus rides for a month, which is quite a deal if you ride the $1.70-a-ride T as often as I do.

The walks distract me from the loneliness. Working nights in a town where you know two people — 1/2,000,000th of the metro population — can be lonely, especially when those two people work during the days. Fortunately Boston is awesome, and there are always things to do and see. I haven't even scratched the surface of the city's history tours, for instance. So there's plenty to keep me from being sad, but on some days it still gets the best of me.

On a side note, I have cable for the first time. This is a good thing for the hours between when I arrive home and when I finally feel like falling asleep, but I'm starting to watch TV during the days. I need to stop that. Not now, when the weather is nice and the sun is out; save that for the cold, gray days.

Anyway, I'll walk and walk and walk until either my feet hurt or it's time to go to work.

LATE AFTERNOON

It takes almost exactly 30 minutes to get from my door to my desk at work when I take the T. Walking down Beacon Hill through the Common to the Park Street station takes about 10 minutes; the nine-minute subway ride takes me five stops; and it takes about eight minutes to walk from JFK station to the Globe.

From home to the T.

From the T to work.

If the Globe still worked out of its office on Newspaper Row on Washington Street, the commute would be eight minutes by foot! Too bad they had to move to Dorchester in 1958.

A view of the building from the north.

A third of the Globe newsroom. This is where business and metro are located. The news copy desk, where I sit, is at the far end of the room and it's hard to see here. The other two thirds of the newsroom are sports (one-third) and Living Arts, the magazine and the design department (one-third). The investigation team and the editorial page are on the floor below the newsroom.

I'll look for an open desk on the rim when I get to work; after Labor Day, when the vacation-spurred staff shortage is over, I'll have my own desk in the design department as well as a desk on the rim.

Work is work. It's hard and it's intense, but I love it. The stories are so interesting and there's always something going on in Boston. Is it the city being an interesting place or are the reporters just really good? Probably both. It's just a stark difference from Jacksonville's news pages, which seem to be dominated by an odd ratio of sap-happy "special kid/man/dog does special thing" and murder/mayhem/misery. Is Jacksonville a boring town, or are the reporters just so overextended that they go only for the low-hanging fruit? Perhaps both.

HOMEWARD BOUND

In order to make the last inbound T, I have to leave the Globe at 12:25 a.m. This usually isn't a problem when I'm doing copy editing or wire layout, but if I'm designing metro I usually miss it and have to call a cab. Lately, my cab rides have been expensive: $16-$17 each time. But last night I altered my route and actually ended up getting dropped off closer to home for $11. (That's the wonder of downtown Boston streets: A route that seems shorter is actually much longer due to the insanity of one-way streets.)

Where's my car? Oh, it's at the Globe, where it's been since July 24. It's not registered in Massachusetts, so I don't have a Beacon Hill parking permit — or any other parking permit for that matter. Downtown Boston is a motorists' nightmare.

I hate you, resident permit parking only sign.

Unlike New York, where luck can land you a parking space on the street, you need a little sticker on your car that says you can park in the neighborhood — and every neighborhood has its own. So I can't just park my car in the Back Bay or the South End or the North End and just hike home. I've received two parking tickets so far, and they're $40 each. That's only slightly more expensive than a parking garage, which is $30 a night. I have free parking at the Globe, so I intend to use it until I decide to either pay the thousands of dollars a year to register the car (insurance, inspections, registration, excise taxes = thousands of dollars) or just get rid of it. The T is fast and convenient, so I have no plans to start driving any time soon.

Back at home, I'll fix a small dinner and either veg out or surf the Internet until I'm tired. Then, off to bed.

THE WEEKENDS

Take all of the above, throw out work, extend the walks' time and range and throw in a restaurant. Boston has thousands of restaurants, and I'm happily up to the challenge of sampling the amazing food. Highlights so far are:

• The best burger ever: The 21st Burger at the 21st Amendment in Beacon Hill. A former JFK hangout, this neighborhood bar and restaurant has inexpensive beer and a burger that has both caramelized onions and onion rings on it. Awesome!
• The $9 Thai feast at Dok Bua in Coolidge Corner. So much food for so little.
• Dino's subs in the North End. Dino makes 16-inch subs (read: lunch and dinner for one price!) with huge slices of mozzarella and fresh plum tomatoes.
• Peking Ravioli at King Fung in Chinatown. Many Chinatown restaurants also have a fabulous (or dubious) secret: Many that are open after 2 a.m. (when all the bars close) will serve you a pot of "Magic Tea" (beer) if you ask for it. Yay!

So that's it. Hey, I didn't claim that I lead an exciting life.

In Sight, Aug. 8

2007-08-09T09:46:00.001-07:00

Boats sailing on the Charles (Cambridge is in the background).

Free concert at the Half Shell on the Esplanade.

Ctrl + Alt + Delete

In Sight, April/May 2008

The silence is broken

In Sight, April 10

In Sight, March 16

In Sight, March 6

In Sight, March 3

In Sight, Feb. 25

A few random things

Where can I get a cup of coffee around here?

Paging Mr. Davis

Hey, I remember you ...

RANDOM STUFF

TRAVEL PLANS

In Sight, Jan. 14

*sigh* Snow is still magical to me.

Astonishing story; beautiful photography

In Sight, Jan. 7

Brilliant.

Amateurs.

The last few days

The start of a new life

In Sight, Dec. 25

In Sight, Dec. 18

In Sight, Dec. 16

In Sight, Dec. 14

Snow!

In Sight, Dec. 12

Driving tour of Boston

In Sight, Dec. 7

Winterized!

Stealth mission to Jacksonville

In Sight, Nov. 23

Hint, and you shall receive

First snow of the fall

In Sight, Nov. 18

See this movie*

In Sight, Nov. 16

Bummed

So long, Franco

This is so awesome …

Momentum

In Sight, Nov. 7

In Sight, Nov. 6

What's going on?

TRAVELS

NOTE ON TRAVELING

WORK

SUNDRY OTHER TOPICS

There are thieves among us

THE TRAPS

In Sight, Nov. 4

So beautiful, so sad

Tea at the Taj … and more!

IN OTHER NEWS

The reason we all truly got into journalism …

Head of the Charles

Pumpkins!

In Sight, Oct. 20

PS: I'm a dork.

Numbers

If this isn't a perfect day, then I don't know what is

ON THE ROAD

AT THE ORCHARD

In Sight, Oct. 14

In Sight, Oct. 14

So long, car. Hello, Zipcar.

In Sight, Oct. 8

Retirement

In Sight, Oct. 7

¡Nombre de coche!

Work it

From kitchen renovations comes an entry

I know

In Sight, Sept. 23

Bob Bohle is the man.

Making something from nothing

In Sight, Sept. 13

Haiku heard over the subway PA

Good morning!

sigh Snow is still magical to me.