The self portrait

It is an odd phenomenon. When traveling alone I end up with a dozen copies of essentially the same photograph. The only difference among the many pictures is the background.

I made a one-day trip to Boston this weekend. A round-trip ticket on Greyhound buses - only $40! I left New York early Saturday morning and arrived in Boston at Noon.

Aboard the bus - a new way to travel for me (the first of many self portraits)

My first stop upon arriving in Bean Town...? b.good Burgers in Harvard Square of course. (I would expound upon this, but b.good deserves its own posting (see here).

Is your mouth watering yet? Mine certainly was - just standing outside the place!

I made a quick stroll through the campus of Harvard University (Note: it doesn't hold a candle to Columbia's campus. Can I say that or is there a conflict of interest?).

Harvard Yard - a lot of red brick here!


The Harvard Law School library

Now, my visit took place in January - a cold, wintry time. Everyone in town was pumped for the upcoming AFC Championship game pitting their beloved Patriots against the visiting San Diego Chargers. But what was on my mind? FENWAY PARK!

That is Fenway! The best ballpark in the country. I am standing on the famed Yawkey Way. This entire road is closed during games and essentially becomes part of the stadium - you must be a ticketed fan to gain access. Awesome!

From Fenway I decided to make a trip down memory lane. I walked the final mile of the Boston Marathon. I was so emotionally and physically distraught the last time I made my way through these streets that I hardly recognized them this time.

I do remember this short tunnel. There is a small hill on the other side. It probably climbs only 10 feet over a distance of 100 yards, but it almost killed me at the end of the marathon!

The homestretch down Commonwealth Ave. At this point I was ready to punch the next fan who yelled, "you are almost there!"

The finish line!!! I really did not recognize this. I thought I was in the wrong place until I saw the painted yellow finishing line on the pavement. On race day this street was lined with people, bleachers, advertisements, etc. It was a madhouse.

The motivation for my trip to Boston was a good friend's wedding reception. I attended the University 40th Ward in Salt Lake with Dave Moss. He became a close friend as we shared similar experiences. He is engaged to a girl who grew up in Boston. They had an open house on Saturday evening in her childhood home - a nice spread in the hills of Belmont.

Cousin Shelley was kind enough to let me crash at her pad. They live in a quaint apartment. To illustrate how quaint it really is - we tripped the the master circuit for the entire apartment that evening when I was ironing my shirt and Shelly was using the hair dryer. Wow! I guess Boston really is colonial.