Spitball Army

Somewhere in America, there’s a street named after my Dad.

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Cambridge Journal: 23 September 2007

July 13th, 2008 · No Comments

Sunday  9.23.07

I did a lot of walking yesterday.  And not just a lot – A LOT!!!  My shins and that weird place where the top of the foot meets the lower leg was the sorest of all [possibly radiating from the muscle Extensor hallucis longus].  Eventually, I made my way back to the hotel and put my feet up.

front of Figaro ticket

Last night, Figaro at the ART [American Repertory Theatre].  At a point during the show, one of the characters said, “Fate always gets in the way of my own destiny.”  In the dark theater, I scribbled it on the back of my ticket.

back of Figaro ticket

Afterward, had a cheese slice at Pinocchio’s.  Sat on a bench behind the K School and ate it, while watching people walk back from the football game which had just ended.

This a.m. had a mediocre breakfast at Henrietta’s Table, unlike the one on Friday.  The service was bland and unattentive.  Then went out to the street, after checking out of the hotel, and watched the action at the farmers’ market.  Then took the T to the airport – I couldn’t see any sense in paying $40 for a cab when I had so much time and so little luggage.

So, here I am at Logan again, waiting on the plane.  Am strangely tired, and would dearly like to spend the night in my own bed, nice as that feather bed at the Charles was.

DB sent me a text message this morning, wishing me a good trip, a C U Soon, and that the Lucinda Williams show at the Alabama Theatre last night was good.  I replied that “Boston has been good and makes me appreciate the potential of Bham even more.”

Tags: food · health · house · music · self

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