It seems as if every night that a swank party is raging somewhere in Boston. I've obviously been hanging with the wrong crowd because while I read of fabulous ragers in the Inside Track, I've never actually been invited to one. For the record I still haven't, but Wellesley has, and last night I was his plus one arm candy at Banq in the South End.
The soiree in question was hosted by Tim Zagat, author of the Zagat restaurant guide. Since Zagat tends to focus on upscale restaurants that serve food I can't pronounce, we are not on intimiate terms. Personally, I'm more of a Yelp girl. However, there's nothing like the words "free food and alcohol" to get me motivated enough to leave the house on an overcast Tuesday night.
While queueing up at the bar I munched on cone shaped things that I later learned were filled with foie gras - it was divine. I probably could've chewed through a dozen of those little cones had I not been constantly thinking about what foie gras actually is. After downing a couple of Oban 14 year (thanks, Mr. Z!), I tried another appetizer that Wellesley described as "bunny". Since he was about as deep as I was, I honest-to-God thought he was messing with me. Note to self: Wellesley doesn't kid when he's talking about rabbit. Good to know.
Hanging with the Boston magazine crowd was a bit out of my comfort zone, but I definitely had a lot of fun. On the way home I described my evening to Nay, including my run-in with rabbit and foie gras, the gateway drugs to yuppiness. I was still grinning from ear-to-ear when Nay finally snapped "Are you fucking serious? That's wicked distgusting!". It takes a good friend to help you realize that while eating foie gras with fabulous people may be a rare delicacy, shouting a combo meal into a clown's mouth is certainly more my reality.
I don't expect my inbox to be flooded with private party invites nor do I expect to become a regular on the South End dining scene. I may have spent the last week getting schooled at the Four Seasons and Banq, but rest assured that I still have no idea what the fuck a short rib is, or why someone would want to eat it for that matter. Despite my ignorance on the finer things in life, the words "free food and alcohol" will continue to motivate me to get out there and enjoy my city (especially if they're uttered by Wellesley). That being stated, don't be surprised if I lay out a spread of fancy crackers and foie gras at my next ho down. After all, you're going to need something to nosh on while playing beer pong.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Friday, April 3, 2009
Friday Updates
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Meanwhile, Down in Marsh Vegas
WBZ proudly reports that the sleepy South Shore town of Marshfield is the first town in the nation to install high-tech Situcon cameras in various municipal buildings. Shaped like a round dome with a retractable eyelid, several of the cameras are currently spying on patrons at the Ventress Public Library. Sure the new cameras cost many thousands of dollars a pop but that's not the point. The point is that the old age question of "is that a book in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" can finally be answered thanks to this technological marvel.
The cameras are activated by remote control and give emergency personnel a window into what's happening inside a building in real time. Should the citizens of neighboring Duxbury decide to launch midnight attacks on the town, the Marshfield PD will be ready. Call off the Armada, Scituate, Situcon is watching!
Marshfield, a town where one could drop dead on Route 139 and nobody would find the body for weeks, assumingly got a Homeland Security grant to buy this shit. Not to be confused with Mansfield (that's a totally different town), Marshfield lies in infamy for playing hostess to some of the seediest characters that side of Route 3 during the annual Marshfield Fair. Other than that, the town is erroding into the ocean but nobody seems to notice.
Nothing against Marshfield - I'm sure it's a fine town - but they are the sole reason that Americans are so ticked off about federal earmarks. The real story here is not some fluff piece created by Channel 4 but rather the gross misappropriation of federal funds. The town should be downright embarrassed that American taxpayers were forced to cough up cash so their bored police department could play with a new camera. If Senator Kerry weren't such an empty suit he'd launch an investigation immediately.
The cameras are activated by remote control and give emergency personnel a window into what's happening inside a building in real time. Should the citizens of neighboring Duxbury decide to launch midnight attacks on the town, the Marshfield PD will be ready. Call off the Armada, Scituate, Situcon is watching!
Marshfield, a town where one could drop dead on Route 139 and nobody would find the body for weeks, assumingly got a Homeland Security grant to buy this shit. Not to be confused with Mansfield (that's a totally different town), Marshfield lies in infamy for playing hostess to some of the seediest characters that side of Route 3 during the annual Marshfield Fair. Other than that, the town is erroding into the ocean but nobody seems to notice.
Nothing against Marshfield - I'm sure it's a fine town - but they are the sole reason that Americans are so ticked off about federal earmarks. The real story here is not some fluff piece created by Channel 4 but rather the gross misappropriation of federal funds. The town should be downright embarrassed that American taxpayers were forced to cough up cash so their bored police department could play with a new camera. If Senator Kerry weren't such an empty suit he'd launch an investigation immediately.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Vote Early and Vote Often: April 7
The towniest of all townie holidays is upon us and the local selectman elections are certainly heating up. On April 7th, about 10% (if we're lucky!) of the electorate will head to the polls to cast their votes for the wicked local pol they feel best represents their personal, professional, and financial self interests. If "all politics is local", as the late Sen. Tip O'Neil once bemused, then the local selectman races certainly impact us more than November's presidential race.
Lawn signs dot the suburban landscape of Canton, and apparently there are three people running for two coveted selectman seats. My dad is volunteering for a campaign in Stoughton (and proudly displays a lawn sign so all 12 cars that drive by my childhood home know exactly who he's voting for) which has sparked my interest in the selectman race in my new hometown.
Last year Canton passed a 2 1/2 override which had a direct, $500 a year impact on me. This time around the biggest local issue in my life is the fact that the right hand cut out lane between Washington and Bolivar has been replaced with a ridiculously oversized sidewalk. Additionally, the new (state funded!) traffic pattern/quagmire in the center of town means that I often have to park upwards of 25 feet from Takara. Sometimes it's so bad that I'm forced to park on the opposite of the street, which means that I have to bang an illegal u-ey in order to avoid a light going back to my place. Heaven forbid my uncooked fish turn cold during this stressful process.
(My life is complicated, I know.)
Two of the local pols are incumbants while the third candidate is looking to make an strategic vertical move from the planning board to selectman. One of the incumbants, Avril Elkort, is an out-of-the-closet Republican, which in Canton is the equivalent to taking out a Pennysaver ad to announce that you have a venereal disease. She's definitely got my vote.
Jeremy Comeau, the wanna-be selectman from the planning board, is the other candidate I'm leaning towards. His website decries the lack of parking in front of the local packie (an issue near and dear to my heart!) as well as the dangers of turning in and out of the 7-11 convenience store. Since I don't have kids, I consider any politician who comprehends that the balance between safety and grabbing a party size bag of Doritos is absolutely as crucial to Canton as the quality of public education, to be an honest and genuine person. I also happen to like the style of glasses he's sporting in his homepage photo.
There it is, folks. Just when you thought petty high school student government elections were forever out of your life, you marvel upon the fact that selectman races are a bi-annual occurance. I can hardly wait to stand and be counted among the 50 voters who will likely jam my polling precinct this April 7.
Lawn signs dot the suburban landscape of Canton, and apparently there are three people running for two coveted selectman seats. My dad is volunteering for a campaign in Stoughton (and proudly displays a lawn sign so all 12 cars that drive by my childhood home know exactly who he's voting for) which has sparked my interest in the selectman race in my new hometown.
Last year Canton passed a 2 1/2 override which had a direct, $500 a year impact on me. This time around the biggest local issue in my life is the fact that the right hand cut out lane between Washington and Bolivar has been replaced with a ridiculously oversized sidewalk. Additionally, the new (state funded!) traffic pattern/quagmire in the center of town means that I often have to park upwards of 25 feet from Takara. Sometimes it's so bad that I'm forced to park on the opposite of the street, which means that I have to bang an illegal u-ey in order to avoid a light going back to my place. Heaven forbid my uncooked fish turn cold during this stressful process.
(My life is complicated, I know.)
Two of the local pols are incumbants while the third candidate is looking to make an strategic vertical move from the planning board to selectman. One of the incumbants, Avril Elkort, is an out-of-the-closet Republican, which in Canton is the equivalent to taking out a Pennysaver ad to announce that you have a venereal disease. She's definitely got my vote.
Jeremy Comeau, the wanna-be selectman from the planning board, is the other candidate I'm leaning towards. His website decries the lack of parking in front of the local packie (an issue near and dear to my heart!) as well as the dangers of turning in and out of the 7-11 convenience store. Since I don't have kids, I consider any politician who comprehends that the balance between safety and grabbing a party size bag of Doritos is absolutely as crucial to Canton as the quality of public education, to be an honest and genuine person. I also happen to like the style of glasses he's sporting in his homepage photo.
There it is, folks. Just when you thought petty high school student government elections were forever out of your life, you marvel upon the fact that selectman races are a bi-annual occurance. I can hardly wait to stand and be counted among the 50 voters who will likely jam my polling precinct this April 7.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
The Most Intelligent Thing I've Read All Day
MSN asked its's readers to submit questions for Barack Obama's press conference tonight. It will never make it past a message board but it's compelling nonetheless:
Mr. President, please explain "toxic" assets in the following context by contrasting the following to the current housing crisis:
If I buy a new $10,000.00 auto with 10% down and financing at 6% APR for 60 months and I drive off the lot.....6 months later the open retail market on THAT used car is now $7900.00. Is that asset now TOXIC? Does that asset become more toxic as time passes even though I am reducing the principle? Shouldn't the focus be on keeping people in their homes and not worrying about the perceived value of homes? Why should the government establish a "bad bank" to buy up the banks' mistakes? Why can't we compell them to restructure loans by lowering interest rates and/or extending loan terms to 50 years until the market recovers?
On another note, mortgage rates are under 5% (no points) and should be for the next few weeks. If you're paying anything over 5.5 and plan to stick around for a while, it may be a good time to consider a re-fi.
Mr. President, please explain "toxic" assets in the following context by contrasting the following to the current housing crisis:
If I buy a new $10,000.00 auto with 10% down and financing at 6% APR for 60 months and I drive off the lot.....6 months later the open retail market on THAT used car is now $7900.00. Is that asset now TOXIC? Does that asset become more toxic as time passes even though I am reducing the principle? Shouldn't the focus be on keeping people in their homes and not worrying about the perceived value of homes? Why should the government establish a "bad bank" to buy up the banks' mistakes? Why can't we compell them to restructure loans by lowering interest rates and/or extending loan terms to 50 years until the market recovers?
On another note, mortgage rates are under 5% (no points) and should be for the next few weeks. If you're paying anything over 5.5 and plan to stick around for a while, it may be a good time to consider a re-fi.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
Wicked Good Grammer
My blog crush Adam G at Universalhub commented that he heard an older guy at Logan complain that he lived too far away to take the rattler to the airport. Rattler? Why, it's old school Boston slang for subway or streetcar of course. My dad, like so many upstanding South Shore rats, still uses this phrase fairly frequently. Then again, my dad also eats spuckies and becomes visibly upset if he forgets to DVR Saturday morning candlepin. It's definitely a generation thing.
While I grew up hearing phrases like b'dayduh (potato), spuckie (small sub), and "having a time" (going to a party), I generally avoid using them because quite frankly I get made fun of enough. A couple of other phrases you'd be hard pressed to hear in some of Boston's leafier suburbs:
Cahm Ya Livvah (calm your liver): Cool Your Jets
Basement: Synonym for bathroom. People actually use this phrase. Be cautious if a person over 70 comes to your home and asks for directions to the basement.
Garbage (not to be confused with Trash): Garbage is classified as stinky stuff that a modern day garbage disposal would take care of (eg: grease, vegetable peelings, etc). Trash is the non-stinky stuff (eg: paper, packaging, etc). Back in the day the city would have designated "garbage" and "trash" days and people were expected to know the difference. Of course growing up in the bucolic suburb of Stoughton my parents didn't have sewrage, so the tradition of seperating garbage and trash continues.
No Suh!: This is not a polite way of saying "no, sir" but really a polite way of saying "are you effing serious???". Big difference.
Rat: a fairly common phrase that I used earlier (eg: like so many upstanding South Shore rats). It's a borderline term of endearment to describe someone who is native to a particular geographic area (aka: a townie).
Tonic: When I waitressed the old folks would ask for tonic, which confused the hell out of me. Tonic is an old school term for soda (eg: Coke), but it also means tonic water, which apparently is not the same thing as seltzer. Luckily the place where I worked had a tonic button on the soda gun, which cut out a lot of the confusion. No need for anyone to cahm their livvah, at least when a smiling pahkcah02 was their waitress.
While I grew up hearing phrases like b'dayduh (potato), spuckie (small sub), and "having a time" (going to a party), I generally avoid using them because quite frankly I get made fun of enough. A couple of other phrases you'd be hard pressed to hear in some of Boston's leafier suburbs:
Cahm Ya Livvah (calm your liver): Cool Your Jets
Basement: Synonym for bathroom. People actually use this phrase. Be cautious if a person over 70 comes to your home and asks for directions to the basement.
Garbage (not to be confused with Trash): Garbage is classified as stinky stuff that a modern day garbage disposal would take care of (eg: grease, vegetable peelings, etc). Trash is the non-stinky stuff (eg: paper, packaging, etc). Back in the day the city would have designated "garbage" and "trash" days and people were expected to know the difference. Of course growing up in the bucolic suburb of Stoughton my parents didn't have sewrage, so the tradition of seperating garbage and trash continues.
No Suh!: This is not a polite way of saying "no, sir" but really a polite way of saying "are you effing serious???". Big difference.
Rat: a fairly common phrase that I used earlier (eg: like so many upstanding South Shore rats). It's a borderline term of endearment to describe someone who is native to a particular geographic area (aka: a townie).
Tonic: When I waitressed the old folks would ask for tonic, which confused the hell out of me. Tonic is an old school term for soda (eg: Coke), but it also means tonic water, which apparently is not the same thing as seltzer. Luckily the place where I worked had a tonic button on the soda gun, which cut out a lot of the confusion. No need for anyone to cahm their livvah, at least when a smiling pahkcah02 was their waitress.
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