JFK

Hello all! It is 6:30 am and I am sitting in JFK airport waiting for my flight home to Boston. I escaped to Utah for the weekend. If you have ever flown on a redeye flight I am sure you can appreciate my pain. I was lucky this time not to sit next to that guy that wants to talk the entire flight. I think of them as single serving friends. Sometimes chatting with a new interesting person is ok, but sometimes you just want to be left the hell alone to endure the flight. As far as seat companions go, a chatty chad is fairly mild compared to the screaming toddler, or grouchy pompous fatty. I may empathize with a parent at wits end while their shrieking toddler makes them instant enemies with anyone within earshot, which is everyone. But I really get disturb by a self entitled asshole that finds it necessary to complain and gripe through the entire flight. It is as if they want to infect those around them with the internal pain and discomfort they feel. This situation can become entertaining if they are matched with an equally unhappy flight attendant. In this situation it is highly possible the fur will fly, and you will have front row seats. Something about being locked in a metal tube makes people loopy.
Utah was great! I surprised my family by arriving in the middle of the night and making a bed on my folks sofa. They were quite surprised in the morning. I stayed very busy all weekend, mostly with family. I did dedicate saturday night to some drunken reunions with friends. It was a much needed and well enjoyed trip. Now I must get back to Boston and hopefully catch a few hours of rest before heading back to work.

Dear Durian,

A durian fruit is a large green-brown heavily spiked Asian delicacy. The flesh of the fruit is described as a "rich custard like texture with an almond flavor". The real appeal of the durian is the smell! The odor is intense. Some find it appealing, and some find it offensive. It has been described as being sulfuric, or smelling like a dirty diaper. And because of this stench, the fruit is outlawed from many Asian public places, like hotels and trains. Yesterday my friend Greg invited me over to try this notorious fruit. I was not able to make it but I received a full report from George and Aaron. Aaron left the house heading to Greg's with a machete, wearing a pirate hat. My last advice to him was, "try not to get arrested". He returned a while later with George and a few small pieces of light yellow fruit in a zip lock bag, like some type of specimen. George and Aaron explained that they had hashed the fruit and then pulled it apart toe reveal three segments each surrounded in a protective sack.
Within each sack there was a large seed enveloped with the beige flesh. They both told me that the fruit tasted "fine" and that I should eat the sample. I was obviously reluctant. What of the infamous stench, I asked. They both looked disappointed when they reported that the smell was not overly strong, or disgusting. I opened the bag and had a whiff. It did not smell too bad at all. The taste test demonstrated a fibrous mushy texture tasting like sweet eggs. Overall the experience was a little anti climatic most likely due to the long discussion for days prior describing how smelly and intense the fruit would be. Maybe we picked a less then prime fruit for our research. For our next trial we may enlist the aide of an expert to ensure we pick a good stinky one.

Frustrating things!

We did not get the apartment. We did not get a good reason for the reaction either. Hours before we were to sign the lease the relator called and explained the landlord refused our applications. On a side note this relator fits into a new classification-

C- This guy plays the buddy card. He is younger and tries to assure you he has been in your shoes before. He will explain that that is why its lucky you found him because now he can help you avoid the craziness. He will try and engage you in conversation about whatever typical guys talk about. Girls, drinking, sports, golf, not apartments. He also makes a big show about how busy he is and how many clients he has to help. The "time is money" idea is pounded into your head which is reeling from all the apartments he is showing you in a shotgun fashion. You want to actually like this guy, but your instincts are sending up warning flares. He did pick you up in a black cadillac after all.
We are back to square one in the apartment search. scouring craigs list and praying that we find housing by the end of summer. I remain optimistic.

There is also a pile of laundry in my room that has received several avalanche warnings from the governing body. Frank (the cat) is not allowed near it for fear he should become buried. Why don't you just do the laundry you might ask. There are three logical answers for that. First refer to previous blog about the challenges of laundry in the big city. Two, for a few weeks I just did not have the time to complete the laundry challenge. Three, laundry eventually reaches critical mass. At this point it has grow to a seemingly unmanageable pile. The idea of dragging all this down the street makes me once again certain I need a sherpa or a pack mule. Which brings me to the third frustrating thing of the day...

I am completely out of clean undies. I even wore the few pair that I keep, but don't really like. I will let you use your imagination to devise possible solutions I might be using. Winner gets a good prize!

This is just to say

I ran across this poem recently, I really like it. Not only is it iconic, it’s brutal and hilarious.

This is just to say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

-William Carlos Williams

And here are some I wrote in emulating the original.

This is just to say,
I just realized I never loved you.
I know you were saving your love for someone special
And you thought it was me

I was pretending those two years
Sorry if you’re hurt
I was lonely
And you are wealthy.

This is just to say,
I have been cleaning the toilet with your toothbrush
I realize you reserve it for your teeth only
but you drank my last beer

forgive me if you get a vicious mouth infection
the toilet now sparkles
you thanked me for cleaning it

Gil Hoy!

Brookline is a town, not a city. I learned this from a little old lady named Harriet. She went on to explain that this means there is no mayor in Brookline. We have what are called "select men". There are five select men and they work together to do the job a mayor would do. I should back up here...
I met Harriet as she was standing in the busy Brookline intersection of Coolidge Corner. She was holding a sign in support of Gil Hoy, who is running for select men (or select man, not really sure). The day was a bit chilly and overcast. Harriet asked me to hold the sign for a minute, her hands were very cold. Who could possibly tell a little old lady with cold hands no, not me. So I held the "Gil Hoy" sign to give this poor little lady a chance to warm her hands. We chatted a bit, she explained the complexities of brookline politics. She also outlined her reasons for supporting Gil, "the only candidate with any sensibility" she exclaimed. Time passed.
Eventually I felt I should be moving on. I told Harriet I had to leave and tried to give her back the sign. She would not take it from me! She said she was leaving and expected me to be in charge of the sign and do good things! I told her there was no way I could possibly stand on the corner holding this sign all day. I had never met Gil Hoy, and I can't vote in the election regardless. She remained her small polite self and matter of factly said "Gil is standing over there, go say hello, and tell him I had to leave and you are taking over". And with that she walked off leaving me standing holding a political sign, dumbfounded. Eventually it became clear to me. This little old lady had completely bamboozled me!
I stood there for a while lost in the idea that I can no longer trust unsuspecting grandmas. Finally I made my way over to Gil Hoy, who was standing on his soap box in the center of the intersection. He smiled hugely as I approached. Before I could open my mouth he extended his bear paw of a hand and vigorously shook mine. "I sure appreciate your support here!" he said. "your welcome" I replied. " I have to leave now" I continued. "well thanks for your time son!" With that he took the sign from me and I shuffled off feeling spun around by the whole incident. And that is how I became a active supporter of Gil Hoy by no action of my own! Word to the wise, just becasue she looks old, and sweet, and like your grandmother, be wary! The years of wisdom have made her very savy and sneaky!

Boston REAL estate

I have learned many things with this new life in the big city. Most of them have been enjoyable. I will share with you one of the least enjoyable aspects of life in Boston. The apartment search in Boston is somewhere between a swirly and getting punched in the kidney on the fun scale. Most people are aware that the cost of living in Boston is outrageous. My definition of “cheap rent” has drastically increased. But not only do you have to pay a ridiculous amount to live in a Boston apartment, you have to jump through high flaming hoops just to find one. Enter the realtor…

To rent an apartment in Boston you have to mediate the lease agreement through a realtor. The realtor shows you the apartment facilitates the lease agreement and works out any details between the renter and the landlord. That in itself does not sound bad. Of course you have to pay the realtor for their time. The typical fee is one month rent. Half a months rent if you are lucky. Some people (crazy ones) might find this reasonable. Here is the rub… 98% of realtors in Boston are either incompetent or crooked. Upon meeting this new supposed friend they will fit one of these two descriptions.


Realtor A- Very nice person, most likely a woman. Her car will smell like cats, or fried food. She will not have the key to the apartment you want to see, so will show you a “similar” property which will not have the number of bedrooms, bathrooms, or location you desire. She will then try to take you to view “better” places in a part of the city you have never heard of. She can’t answer difficult question like “does this guy passed out in the bathroom come with the apartment”. In the end you will have to make up an excuse to terminate your outing, something like “I just remembered I am dying later this week so will not need an apartment after all”.


Realtor B-This guy is typically a sleazy foreigner. He may actually be so sneaky that you don’t even realize just how crooked he is upon meeting him. He may pick you up in a nice car and smell of cologne and sausage. This guy is even worse than the bumbling fool you met before. He will lie to your face. He will say anything to get you to write him a check and sign a application. "does the apartment come with a blow up bouncy castle and can we install a moat?' "of course it does and you can have alligators too" He will reply in a heavy Russian-Greek accent. If you get duped you will end this interaction by shaking his puffy hand which is slimy with sweat. You will smell of sausage cologne for the rest of the day.

Aaron, George and myself found a prospective apartment on Saturday. We wrote him a check for a large sum of money. We walked away free of strange smells, I am still skeptical. But optimistic at the same time. (yes, you can be both)

Random bits

So what have a I been up to you ask. Or maybe you don’t ask, maybe you don’t care. Well you must care at least a little you are reading this after all. Either way I am going to tell you! I have been up to many things. All of which are fun, and none of which should be tried at home.
My friend Frank will be leaving Bean town soon and moving to Maui. Poor guy I know. But before he goes he wants to explore New England. So each weekend we pick a unexplored city and invade it. Some people explore a new city by walking around seeing the sights, having something to eat. We do this too, but shake it up a bit too. In hopes of creating a presence we pick a friend at random and make it their bachelor party. Then to create a theme we all wear silly hats! It looks something like this!




In this case we are in Cape Cod, and it is Georges bachelor party.

Another exciting thing that I participated in Marathon Monday! The Boston marathon happens on a state holiday. Which is great because the entire city is free to participate. 25,000 people run the race. And those that don’t run the race, party. I am in the latter category. We decided to dress up as 70’s track stars and run amuck at the race. My friend Matt was having a party at his apartment which is on the course so this worked out well. It was so exciting to see literally thousands of people stream by in a continuous flow for hours. Lance Armstrong ran the race. I saw him, he did not win. In fact there were hundreds of people in front of him. I think it would be great to be able to say… I didn’t win, but hell I beat Lance Armstrong. Check this out…


I guess aside from acting like a over grown child I have not been up to much. Work is going well. I am looking for a new apartment for the end of the summer. Planning some summer travels. Boring stuff mostly not like this stuff…



I will try to keep a better web log…blog as the hip kids say, from now on. Before I wrap it all up I have a few shout outs!
Little Bro Kev.- Congrats on finishing college kid! Big things ahead, I am very proud of you!
Georgie- I am very sorry for scaring you in your sleep. I will not practice my didgeridoo anymore at 2 am.
Jena- Yes all five are complaining… they also said you look silly and can’t read good.