Terri and I are currently sitting at Tosci’s in Central Squaree after walking from home to Davis Square (all 3 coffee shops (Someday, Diesel, Carberry’s) were full) then to Porter Square (Simon’s Cafe was full), then to Harvard Square (we didn’t even try).
We have plans afoot. Big plans, which may involve you!
Everything smells like November. That lovely thing I’m drinking is Toscanini’s amazing Hot Vanilla. It’s super super rich. I limit myself to two a year. One in November, and one in February.
For Terri’s birthday, we went to dinner at Upstairs on the Square; it was excellent. I haven’t been there since it stopped being Upstairs at the Pudding. Guess what kind of soup she had? That’s right. Turnip. I had something that was Italian for “Chicken under a brick”, which, as it sounds, was baked under a chunk of Cambridge’s favorite construction material.
It’s hard for most people in these parts to stomach that Schilling helped us win the World Series, and then started campaigning for Bush. Saw this grafitti in Harvard Square last night.
This is total crap. How does anybody live in Alaska?
Look in tomorrow’s Boston Globe magazine for Terri’s picture!
We were walking down Newbury Street this afternoon. Terri was wearing some funky red and black striped socks and the pointy boots she saw in Prague and bought in Vienna. A woman came up to us and said “I’m not a stalker, I’m a fashion photographer for the Globe. I’m looking for people with funky socks. Can I take your picture?”
Yesterday, Johnny Kelley, who ran the Boston Marathon 58 times, and won twice, passed away. His obituary linked to this fantastic bit of prose. Here’s a taste: “But no: Johnny, doubled over in distress, was merely endevouring to relieve his stomach of the glucose which he had been taking to excess in tablet form, for stimulation. Meanwhile, on came the blue-shirted Dengis, eating up the yards which separated him from the nauseated leader.”
This house just off Holland Street had a mannequin head impaled on a weathervane spike for many years, dating back to the very earliest days of the Terri and Ezra Show– in fact, before there even was a Terri and Ezra show pilot.
So it was with some sadness that when we became landowning citizens of Somerville last year that we noticed that the head no longer was impaled on its spiky home. So, imagine our happines earlier this summer when we saw the return of the impaled head. We don’t think it’s the same head. But to some extent, an impaled mannequin head is an impaled mannequin head, right?
The other “Welcome to Somerville” photo I’d like to present is of a unicycle and a two-seat running stroller in front of the Someday Cafe. I think it speaks for itself.
The Someday has come back into favor with us. I had all but given up on it sometime in about 1998 or 1999. I just couldn’t take the grunginess and the awful music (AC/DC, Kiss, etc.) that the omnipresent long-haired baristo insisted on blasting at conversation-imparing levels. Sometime when I wasn’t looking (read: sometime when we lived in Cambridge), the Someday became a stealth Toscanini’s. Toscanini’s as I’ve mentioned before has hands down the best espresso drinks in the Boston area. Plus, now, the Someday sells Tosci’s ice cream. The vibe is different than the vibe of the overt Toscis; it has kind of a wacko grungy unapologetically 90′s vibe, but my own vibe is sort of unapologetically 90′s, and they’ve dropped the metal, so things are very good between me and the Someday.
Also, someday I hope to have a unicycle.
In Ikea and Somerville news, hopefully Major Joe can get the ball rolling again for Ikea Somerville. If he does, he’s got my vote to become the next Mayor Mike.