gratitude-a-thon day 1048: Mayor Marty Walsh

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Who knew that ‘covfefe” meant “I’m going to murder the planet and piss off the rest of the world” when Trump wrote it the other day on Twitter. The current president of the United States not only doesn’t care about my family and yours, he clearly doesn’t care about his own. I mean, is he building a Trump Tower on another planet to escape to when he helps to destroy this one?

Here’s the thing, Trump is acting against hard scientific facts, people with about 100 more IQ points than he has, world leaders and industry giants who all know that climate change is real and cannot be ignored without dire consequences. We’re going to need that birth control he’s pulling, because the planet won’t be healthy enough for future generations to live on.

Gratitude to the progressive and awesome Mayor of Boston, Marty Walsh (not to mention the mayor of Pittsburgh who is with Paris, not with Trump) who responded to Trump’s bonehead move with this:

“Withdrawing the U.S. from the Paris climate agreement isn’t just a setback, it’s irresponsible. This damages our nation’s reputation as an international leader and puts future generations at risk to the threat of climate change. Boston will not standby given what’s at stake.

We are committed to addressing climate change head on and will accelerate Boston’s efforts to become carbon neutral by 2050. Fighting climate change means fighting for all those affected by worsening air quality, extreme heat, eroding coastlines — issues that will continue to impact residents for generations to come.

As Mayor, I will continue to work with U.S. Mayors and cities around the world to uphold the tenets of the Paris climate agreement and protect Boston against the very real impacts of climate change.”

I love that dirty water, but I hope Trump loves it too. Because it’s going to be everywhere, and not just in a song about Boston.




gratitude-a-thon day 1029: 26.2


I went to the Marathon on Monday, just like I’ve done for the past 38 years. I guess maybe I’ve missed a few, in fact, I was in Miami with my daughter during the horrific marathon bombing, (which you can read about here and here and here, too) but mostly, I’ve been cheering from the sidelines during at least 35 of them. I have seen it from Park Drive and Beacon, the finish line when I lived on Newbury, Heartbreak Hill, and more recently Washington Square in Brookline. I’ve cheered for friends and acquaintances as they’ve made the trek. I’ve clapped until my hands hurt, and watched until I was nauseous.

Sometimes the weather is cold, so good for the runners, but bad for the spectators, and sometimes it’s hot, which nobody really loves. This year was warmer than ideal, but really nice. I brought my sister, who, despite living in the Boston area for a long time now, had never been! We didn’t stay long, because she was having some pain from a recent surgery. But even though I have been on the sidelines so many times, I still marvel at the guts and athleticism it takes to keep putting one foot after another for 26.2 miles. I always wanted to run this thing, but my running days ended after college, when I found out I had a herniated disc in my low back and had to put away my sneakers. I cherish this event for its soul (and sole). Every year it has stories of hope and help and heart. And whether you’re running or watching, everybody is part of the great tradition that is Boston, baby.

Grateful this historical and iconic race went off without a hitch, a backpack or a misstep. I will always love that dirty water.


gratitude-a-thon day 685: Welcome to Boston

The Strandbeests walked, or actually had to be pushed. They were plenty cool, though.

I’ve lived in Boston a long time. Like since Paul Revere rode through the streets. I used to know the city intimately, could drive anywhere. But once the Big Dig happened and one wrong turn could land you in New Hampshire, I sort of stopped going downtown. But what was happening while I was letting the reorganization spook me was evident last night. We went to the Greenway to see the Strandbeests walk (truth be known, they had to be pushed because there was not a bit of wind), and go to the North End for dinner with friends. But it was anything but an ordinary Friday night, it was totally electric, with public art dotting the city like snowflakes in February.

First of all, weather is everything. A nice night could make a dark alley attractive, but add the smell of the sea, and miles of art, a carousel and scads of people eating and drinking at outdoor restaurants, and you’ve got a place you want to call home (hey, it actually is my home!).

I fell in love with Boston last night. All over again. What a great city. Boston Strong might have to be replaced with Boston Amazing.