Beantown Walkabout

The Panamanians in the Public Garden

My wife made up an itinerary for the visiting Panamanians without consulting me or paying any attention to the National Football League schedule. We’ve been married long enough for her realize that Sunday afternoons in the latter part of the year are sacrosanct, especially since the advent of the Red Zone. She chose to rely on her feminine wiles and those dashing brown eyes to convince me that being a tour guide in Boston instead of watching the Patriots game was a better use of my time, especially since I was nursing the after-effects of a Saturday too well spent.

My Favorite Panamanian by the Rose garden

What can I say, I’m powerless when confronted with those eyes. I did save the game on the DVR and spent the afternoon dodging into the odd food truck we ran across to ask what the score was. My wife is not a huge fan of walking but that was required yesterday. I went with my standard repertoire which meant parking in the Boston Common garage and fanning out from there. I hoped the Patriots game would keep the crowds down but it was too glorious a late summer day for New Englanders to stay cooped up. There’s no telling how many more of these we’ve got before Mother Nature drops the winter hammer.

By George's Statue

George Maintaining

My pop culture references are becoming dated because the first stop on my tour was Cheers and the younger Panamanians had no clue what TV show I was talking about (guess it has been a while). Luckily the Public Garden was just across the street and the late summer flowers were in full bloom. George Washington still presided over the garden with his stately glower and my wife found a special garden devoted to roses.

Gardens were Beautiful

Then it was up Boylston Street in search of the Marathon Finish line. The beggars had the street fully lined in anticipation of the tourist trade. We ran across a guy in his young twenties who was begging outside Copley Square. My wife firmly declared he was too young to be doing this (unaware there is no age limit). She elicited his full, if I’m sure well edited, life story and then told him he was young enough to work and should look for employment. One of the standard Bostonians liberal residents was walking by and saw my wife talking with this young hero. Afterwards she came up and thanked my wife because so many people just walk by and ignore the street people. My wife gave me one of those, “Told you so” looks after this.

Copley Square

My tour guide rep took a serious hit when I missed the finish line since a major construction project had a lot of the area fenced off. We ended up two blocks further than needed. I recovered by telling them they should see the route as the runners did when finishing after we turned around to walk back up the route and it was part of the experience. (I don’t think they bought it either)

We Did Eventually Find It

Following a trek back to the Common we ran into a huge display of vintage and ultra-expensive cars all over the Common. There was also some sort of Indian (the real ones with all the curry) festival. There were signs up preaching vegetarianism and that eating animals was tantamount to murder. I guess I should shelve any plans to visit that sub-continent as they’ll probably have pictures of me up as one of history’s biggest mass murderers. After that sobering thought we reached the state house where my wife staged a mini-sit down protest for all the walking required. I got her on her feet by reminding her of the closeness of the Quincy Market and a bread bowl full of chowder. My wife’s friend’s son became intimately acquainted with Sam Adams during the prior night’s Oktoberfest celebration so we took time to pose next to that statue. I tried, I think unsuccessfully, to point out Sam was not a famous brewer.

One of the Cars on the Common

My Wife's Sit Down Protest

After dodging all the street acts including the hip hop juggler, who did a lot more talking than juggling, the Panamanians descended on the food court and the promised chowder. I took up station outside a nearby bar so I could watch the 4^th quarter of the Patriots’ game. I know I should have avoided learning the outcome in order to be surprised when I watched the game later but who am I trying to kid, like that was going to happen. My wife, observant person that she is, pointed out after we linked back up that I’d been watching the game with fly down. I’m sure the paying patrons at that bar appreciated that, all part of the Quincy Market experience!

Legendary Patriot Sam Adams With his Newest Fan

More Recent Patriot Reminding the Bills of the Proper Food Chain

After pursuing their own strong suit of shopping we made our way home. I then exposed my young Sam Adams aficionado to the glory that is the Red Zone’s touchdown montage. We watched the Pat’s game together which was cool since I knew they won and could fast forward through the endless commercials and “analysis”. Brady continued in full assassin mode making opponents pay for the indignities he’s suffered over the past few months.

This was a different town but the same old bombastic Rex Ryan. His team played with the usual chip on their shoulder and an appalling lack of discipline. This could provide the first chink in his love affair with the fair city of Buffalo. He should just kneel down and acknowledge he can’t compete as a game coach with Belichick. It’s almost unfair but so much fun to watch. 

Honeymoon's Over Rex