Note to Self (76) Boston

I stand on the subway platform, waiting for my train to arrive. The old routine’s kicking in as I distract myself and glance at the several billboards displaying upcoming TV series and movies, forcing me to look beyond the white tiles of the walls of the 86th street station. A few seconds pass before I notice a rodent running between the tracks.

It’s been raining all morning. It feels like a Monday even if it’s a Tuesday, and all the fun of the long Labor Day weekend has now become a distant memory.

How did I spend this most appreciated leisure time? I went to Boston with my girlfriend. How was it? Well let me tell you how it was.

Boston is not New York. It’s smaller, quieter… simply different. I had been there before, so I thought I knew Boston. I obviously didn’t. This fourth time was my first time, and I must say, my best.

Boston has the heart of an old pirate that never gave up on the battle. It vibrates with strength and smoothness. Its buildings reflect the passage of time, remnants of an era that witnessed waves of European immigrants plant their flags onto the American soil, create a new identity, and forge a new culture that transpired into everything they touched. They’re Irish, Italian, British… displaying their colors on every street corner, and proudly chanting their anthems in their native tongues. There’s nothing pretentious about Boston. The rawness of its soul is what touched me the most.

I got utterly impressed by the Harvard and MIT campuses when we visited Cambridge. The food we ate exceeded my expectations; the beer I tasted kept me drunk for days. I let Boston charm me and I fell in love with its air, with its people, with its streets and even with its Red Sox team. You know, I’m a Yankees’ fan because I live in New York, but I’d be a Red Sox fan if I lived in Boston. This town seduced me and welcomed me with open arms showing me how beautiful she was, without too many bright lights and tall skyscrapers. Boston is just like this gorgeous girl who wears no make up, no powder, no glitter…. Boston doesn’t need all that crap to shine like a diamond.

I realized how much I liked Boston as soon as I set foot back in New York. The noise, the anger, the stress and the crowd…. It hit me like a million bricks. I yearn to go back and escape again. Yes, New York, I admit it. I enjoyed cheating on you. And you know what? I don’t even feel guilty about it.

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