journal (2013)

So… you take a quick walk from Dano’s new house in Weymouth to the commuter rail. Pleasant ride, vacant, just the five of you sitting around a table on the train, pretending to have a laptop or a deck of cards to play solitaire. You watch the Quincy/Boston skyline through darkened windows until you reach South Boston. You amble out from the veritable depot on to Summer Street and you see the 125 High Street tower where you worked for three years. You think back to lonely nights, cut off from the world, roving from floor to floor and getting paid to watch movies or write; you wonder who has become the full time overnight rover and how it affects their psyche. It wasn’t a coveted security position because most guards liked to sit at their desks all night and not move unless it was to take a nap, get their lunch or go the bathroom and the rover called for much walking. Anyway, you walk toward the Boston Common, cutting thru Washington Street and Macys— and the Christmas lights are bright and festive and people are in good moods. You stop at the Common and try and remember when or what year this tradition began—1986 maybe or 1988. The lights have changed over the years, Rich says, from old school fat bulbs to LED lights. Remember how they used to decorate all the trees? Now it’s two or three areas and a big LED Christmas tree. Further down, near a subway vestibule outside the Public Gardens, a patch of white and blue lights hang lazily from the gate; and of course it’s sad because the changes mark the passage of time in your lives. You duck under the bridge, the usual hangout spot, and walk across the ice to the pond’s center, where there is a small island. You talk and laugh and share Christmas memories and dream and live in the wonderful moment with friends.

 

You walk down Charles Street where Rich reminisces about his youth— when he and his brothers used to visit these shops and buy cheeses and breads and meats and then scoot over to the Common to eat. You cross over the Esplanade and Hatch Shell and hang out on wonderful foot bridges and gaze at the Christmas skyline and in particular, a small sailboat, docked, completely covered with Christmas lights and a Santa Clause mid ship waving. You walk on and see the Citgo sign in the distance and Cambridge; the river at your feet is semi frozen. The beers taste so good and the air is crisp and you definitely feel over dressed in too many layers and you certainly don’t need gloves. A warm feeling washes over you. As the night closes in, the cold begins to rise and the Christmas shoppers retire. You are together as one. Soon it will be too late and the trains will stop. You begin the long march to Park Street to take the Braintree train then hail a cab to Weymouth.