Now on Instagram!

I am delighted to announce that Don't Look Down, Beantown is now on Instagram. You can follow along on the @dontlookdownbeantown page. There you will find much excitement; already there is the Prudential Tower, Harvard, the Charlestown skyline, and doughnuts. Here, have a quick peek:



Prudential at night



Harvard's entry/exit gateway



Charlestown skyline

I know, I know. No picture of the doughnuts. What gives? Well, it's its-own-post worthy, so I am saving it for later. And, yes, it is a continuation of my Union Square saga/quest for the glorious maple bacon doughnut (parts one and two).

Truth be told, it is the renewed inspiration and passion for this little project that I am most excited about. It is easy to fall out of the habit of keeping up, especially when life gets busy. I won't lie, though, I am a bit intimidated - there is already a countless number of talented Bostonians sharing their experiences in the Bean via Instagram. I am happy to become one, too, and hopefully prove myself a distinct voice in the crowd.

Til next time!

Suspension of Disbelief

These were taken within driving distance of the city. Within sight of the Prudential. A literal hop, skip, and jump over the Charles. 

How can this be real? Below three dollars? I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't just paid it.

Happy holiday travels, everyone.

Til next time!

BBF 2014: History, Architecture, and an Almond Croissant

Not twenty minutes ago, my fiancee and I had this conversation:

"Do you want to go out?"

"Not really. Why, do you? Want to walk around?"

"Not really. I'm kind of enjoying reading."

"Yeah. It's nice."

Reading is nice. Reading is important. If you were one of the lucky attendees of the perennially great (and free!) Boston Book Festival, then I think you left feeling the same. Reading - whether it is the latest historical tome from Doris Kearns Goodwin, the popcorn mythology of Rick Riordan, or the artistic approach to architecture from Lord Norman Foster - is incredibly important. If not because it reaffirms what is important and meaningful to you, the reader, then because it reaffirms what holds us together as a group, the general audience.

This year's festival was jam-packed with excitement. For instance, when I first arrived at Copley Square, it was with what I thought was enough time to grab a bite to eat before hopping in line to see Doris Kearns Goodwin (author of Lyndon Johnson and the American Dream, The Fitzgeralds and the Kennedys, No Ordinary Time, Team of Rivals, and The Bully Pulpit) speak. As is usually the case when it comes to timing my arrival to important events, I was grossly mistaken. (The less said about every major holiday of the past half decade the better.) Taking my place in line, stomach grumbling, gave me the pleasant misfortune of viewing the farthest corner of the Trinity Church away from the entrance. In other words, by the time I arrived, the line had already wrapped seventy-five percent of the way around the building.

 

Slowly progressing towards the entrance (or, according to my appetite, slowly abandoning my proximity to the Bon Me truck parked at the corner of Boylston and Clarendon), I paced into the Trinity Church.

First of all - Wow. Beautiful and iconic on the outside, the interior is a sight to behold. Second, what an amazing venue for a talk with a historian and, later, an architect.

Ms. Kearns Goodwin's conversation with WBUR was great. In it, she more or less revealed that she is mulling a next book on the topic of leadership, pulling from all of the previous research she has done. Earlier this year, while I was in Nashville, I had the good fortune to hear Jon Meacham (author of Franklin and Winston, Thomas Jefferson: The Art of Power, and the complicated biography of controversial American President Andrew Jackson, American Lion) speak on which attributes he would like to see the next generation of Americans exhibit: from Jefferson, curiosity; from Jackson, resilience; from Roosevelt, charm; from Churchill, courage. In this regard, I think Kearns Goodwin is almost overqualified, and I can't wait to see what comes of this next book. Per Kearns Goodwin's talk and her own work, perhaps Lincoln as a model of critical problem solving in assembling his cabinet? Johnson for social responsibility in his Civil Rights legislation? Teddy Roosevelt as a motivator? Eleanor Roosevelt as leadership itself? Of course, it's also possible Doris Kearns Goodwin is reading this, screaming "Nooooo! That's not it at all!" Apologies if I misunderstood, but I do hope (and think) I understood correctly.

Her talk concluded, there were precious few moments before Lord Norman Foster's (architect of Foster + Partners) talk began. Just enough time to run to Au Bon Pain on Boylston, grab an almond croissant (mana from heaven) and a small coffee.

And... back in my seat, underneath and consumed by the beautiful architecture of Trinity Church once more, just in time to hear Lord Foster speak. If you are unfamiliar with his work, you can see his projects here. Most notable to Bostonians is his work on the Art of the Americas expansion at the Museum of Fine Arts, which was news to me. (Whoops.) For all that I have written on the museum (probably my favorite place in the Bean), and for all of the times I have walked by the expansion, I did not know who designed it.

I have always loved the Art of the Americas expansion. Lord Foster's philosophical approach to architectural design - that you must first define your task as well as the space you are working with - can be seen on full display here in Boston. As many of us have noticed, it is the largest part of the museum to feature windows. Refusing the traditional approach to museum exteriors (my interpretation is that they use heavy stone and limited windows to reflect, to some extent, an exclusivity of knowledge at the same time that they physically protect the works within), the expansion skips to what happens inside the museum: the open conversation and beginnings of dialogue on art, history, and the humanities. To my mind, it achieves this by placing statues and art where large windows meet the ends of long hallways. The statues are instantly visible from the outside, leading you toward the hallways and, hopefully, into the museum. It effectively begins your dialogue before you even enter. Personally, I think it's genius. Of course, it's also possible Lord Foster is also reading this, screaming "Nooooo! That's not it at all!" Again, apologies if I misunderstood, but I do hope (and think) I understood correctly.

Yes, there was much more to do at the Boston Book Festival, but I was fully satisfied - amazed, really. The festival gets better every year, and in only its sixth iteration, it is hard to imagine how it could get any better. But I do know this. Its organizers are miracle workers, and if anyone can push something almost perfect nearer that ideal, it's them.

Til next time!

Boston Book Festival's One City One Story

Next week the Boston Book Festival will overtake Copley Square. Every year the city brings top talent - local, national, and international - to the public spaces that surround its historic library. Fitting, though, that a city with such literary tradition approaches this annual celebration with joy.

Even more fitting that it approaches it through the rigors of academic and literary achievement. 

The authors that speak are impressive in their own right, that is without doubt. In fact, it is refreshing to see the air of celebrity that surrounds them. Why shouldn't those who compete in the major leagues of the written word receive some adulation? Beantown has been (and still is) many things, but it nice to know that - even for a day - this town of sports, medicine, and science celebrates its status as a center of the arts.

The authors themselves, though, are not the entirety of the day, and they are not the entirety of celebrating this academic and literary legacy. That honor belongs to the organizers of the event, the annual author of the One City One Story short, and the residents of the Boston area. 

One City One Story is the city's Autumn push for literacy. Sponsored and distributed by Dunkin Donuts and Zipcar (genius! both are on every corner in the Bean), the initiative floods the city with thousands of copies of the same story. This is not simply an attempt to publicize the festival, it is instead an earnest attempt to highlight everything that the festival celebrates: the continuation of the open dialogue and exchange of information and experience that writing has given us. 

Imagine if the common thread wound through Boston for a day was a discussion on shared storytelling. Find a copy of the story at Dunkin Donuts and book stores around the city (I found mine at the Brookline Booksmith) and make it a reality!

For more information, follow the Boston Book Festival on its website here. Visiting authors this year include Doris Kearns Goodwin (Team of Rivals), Rick Riordan (Percy Jackson series), and over 150 more. 

Til next time!

Elsewheres: Nashville, TN

The thing about Wish-I-Was-There travel lists is that they never get shorter. Once the travel bug sinks its teeth into your skin there is no shaking it; you might scratch a place off of your list only to find yourself adding another ten. Just to share, my top three five are Paris, Rome, Venice, Istanbul, and Barcelona, but I also want to see Peru, Mexico, Argentina, Romania, Portugal, China, Cambodia, and Egypt (and even that is not a comprehensive list). And Iceland. Whoops. Tokyo, too.

Get my point?

I have been to plenty of places within the United States thanks to growing up with generous and adventurous parents, but there was one in particular that – until this June – I had always kept in the back of my mind: Nashville, Tennessee.

Traveling to Nashville was, for me, the completion of my Music Cities of the South trilogy. First, there was Memphis (I applied to a college there – the only one outside of New England – and therefore needed to visit), home of Sun Studios, Beale Street, and the blues. Then there was New Orleans (I attended a wedding that my now-fiancée was a bridesmaid in), home of Bourbon Street and jazz. Finally, there was Nashville (I had the good fortune to attend a conference in town), home of country music, honky tonks, and Second Fiddle. Only in retrospect have I realized this, but if you want to travel America, follow the music.

So now that my trilogy is complete, what can I conclude? Memphis had my favorite music and New Orleans had the best food, but nothing beats the downtown of Nashville. As a sum-total experience, the combination of endless live music, good local beer (Yazoo), and a close-quarter, safe downtown to cut loose in makes Nashville an experience. Like a full-immersion language program, Nashville drops you into the heart of Country Music Culture, never lets you forget where you are, and – with its fine Southern hospitality – smooth talks you into a sip of the Kool-Aid. 

You’ll leave wishing there were honky tonks wherever you’re from.

Getting downtown in Nashville is easy; it’s a relatively small pocket of blocks that starts with Tootsie’s and ends at the Cumberland River. Tootsie’s is an easy find. First of all, it is purple. Second, it is all over the promotional materials for downtown and it is pretty much always packed. Which is exactly why I avoided it, and exactly why I would recommend the place next door instead: the aptly titled Second Fiddle. I might be busting tradition (I am a known curmudgeon), but Second Fiddle is better and far less crowded, which makes it far more enjoyable. I walked into Tootsie’s, up every flight of stairs, made uncomfortable body contact with every crowd, saw that each floor was packed, and walked right out. It was a lot like being on the T, actually. Luckily for me, Second Fiddle was comfortably busy (there was actually a seat at the bar), and the music was good. I mean, it was real good. We’re talking Waylon Jennings covers that sounded like the man himself.

Whether you’re a country music fan or not, the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum is a fantastic and worthwhile visit. There is a wealth of American history seared into its music, and the museum works equally well as a history of the genre as it does part and parcel of Americana. It revels in showing you Elvis’s gold Cadillac and Patsy Cline’s outfits while explaining the origins of country music and its place throughout the course of American history. The museum is a feat of shared storytelling, the dream of country music fans and historians alike.

And lastly, there’s the people-watching. People in Nashville are cutting loose, man. They’re dropping $500 on a pair of snakeskin cowboy boots, chasing it with a ridiculously huge belt buckle, and polishing off their stay with dance moves that run the gamut from Dancing with the Stars-level choreography to Chris Farley’s “Fat Guy in a Little Coat.” But everyone – I mean everyone – is having the time of their life doing it. Nashville has an infectious happiness. But how could it not? It is a holy city in the Tao of Country Music.

So there you have it. Nashville has a coaxing charm that is propelled by country music and the stories it tells. There was a catchy joy in knowing I was watching a lot of other people’s travel dreams come true. It was so catchy, I realized that I had really always wanted to visit myself – as I said, this was the conclusion of my Music Trilogy. 

Like the ancient Greek sirens, Nashville sings a melody into the air that will draw you in. Unlike the sirens, Nashville has no strings attached – just good times.

Til next time!

Another Mustachioed Monument

This weekend seemed a good time for the next installment of mustachioed monuments. The Boston Comic Con is in town and it has inspired me to return to some of my own illustrations. Not only that, but just this morning the New York Times featured this piece by Anand Giridharadas on the virtual landscapes of art museums, and how some are using this web-structured appeal to create exhibits like "The Mustached Men of the Met." You can only imagine how affirming this was of my pursuits here.

Now, on to the details!

The clock tower of the Customs House is one of the most recognizable landmarks of downtown Boston. (See the views from the top here.) Built atop the original building – a seeming model of Rome’s Pantheon – the tower is one of the city’s tallest.1 Because it is, too, one of the buildings that greets visitors and residents alike from 93 and is located in Boston’s heart for tourism, Government Center/Quincy Market, it is one of the city’s friendliest. Simply put, there is something exceedingly historic, recognizable, and trustworthy about its architecture.

Which is why it bears the recognizable mustache of the trustworthy Randy Price, host of the Eyeopener on WCVB Channel 5. Whether you tune in or not, he’s always there to start your day. His is the mustache of Boston’s morning bustle.

Til next time!

1. Scott. "IWalked Boston's Custom House Tower." Iwalkedaudiotours.com. IWalked, LLC, n.d. Web. 9 Aug. 2014. <http://iwalkedaudiotours.com/2011/04/iwalked-boston%E2%80%99s-custom-house-tower/>

Saccharine Sanctuary

Doughnuts have always been a safe haven for me. If I learned one thing from my Memere, it’s this: In times of trouble, there is little that they cannot solve. I also have a long family history of visiting Wells, Maine – the home of Congdon’s Doughnuts. If ever my family wakes up in Maine and there aren’t enough buttercrunch doughnuts to go round, there is hell to pay for whoever picked them up. Testament to my loyalty – even here in Boston, I subscribe to the restaurant’s (very entertaining) newsletter.

Despite being late to the game (more trend-observer than trend-setter), you can only imagine my excitement at learning of UnionSquare Donuts’ march towards Massachusetts morning pastry domination.

Good Lord, they are delicious.

Getting them, however, proved to be an adventure in itself.

Originally, I wanted to make my first purchase at the SoWa Market – I think I wrote about this a little while ago – but they were sold out. Next time.

That next time was July 2, the day my fiancée and I moved, and we kind of thought it might be fun to greet our minions/volunteers/family with a delicious selection of doughnuts. You know, just some casual maple bacons, salted caramel bourbons, and hazelnut crunches – nothing too fancy. But that got scrapped, largely because I did a terrible job of putting things in boxes throughout the preceding days. Ugh.

This past Saturday, otherwise known as Beach Day, was also intended to begin with doughnuts. And, in fact, it nearly did. After sorting out all of the necessaries for getting to Revere (buying beach chairs, getting sunscreen, and of course watching Pioneer Woman on Food Network first), Miss Beantown and I found ourselves lost in Somerville attempting to locate Union Square Doughnuts, getting nowhere in traffic, and hunting down possible parking spaces, all the while expounding upon the amount of time being spent on a tense search for pastries when the beach awaited in all of its laid-back glory.

But then!  Then the skies parted. Shop in sight, meter pumped, mouths salivating, we arrived at the tail end of a very long line. Having made plans to meet a friend at the beach, we were forced to abandon ship. And we were so close. So very, very close.

At this point, by the way, I was quite the unpleasant pheasant, thinking “These better be the best doughnuts I have ever tasted.”

The very next day we returned to the place where this quixotic saga began, the SoWa Market. Knowing to get there early, we strolled right up to the Union Square Donuts stand and calmly – very calmly, like Val Kilmer calm – ordered some as if we had done it a million times before.

Worth. The. Wait.

These doughnuts aren’t just good. They aren’t even just really good. They are incredible. And we didn’t even find the maple bacons, salted caramel bourbons, or hazelnut crunches. Instead we stumbled upon vanilla bean, strawberry, and orange creamsicle. They were huge, fluffy, doughy, tasty, ornamented treats that were more than worth the wait.

Whatever you have to do, these are not to be missed.

Til next time!