TIAFCB: There Is a Free Comic Book

The principles of economics teach us that there is no free lunch. But they should also teach us that there is such a thing as a free comic book.* In fact, there is a whole day for them: Free Comic Book Day. 

FCBD is a thrillingly easy event to hit up. Occurring once a year – every first Saturday of May – it is celebrated by brick-and-mortar comic shops who offer free books to any interested patrons or passersby. All of the major publishers participate (DC, Marvel, Image – think Walking Dead) and a host of others, too.

 

In Boston, the best places to collect your freebies would be Newbury Comics, New England Comics, and – at the very top – Comicopia in Kenmore Square. Free Comic Book Day may be over, but check out these shops when you get a chance. Even if they don’t have any remnants leftover, each has a healthy selection of discounted issues and paperback collections.

And, if you’re still interested, don’t forget the newly rescheduled Boston Comic Convention, coming to town on August 3-4 at the World Seaport Trade Center. Last year’s event at the Hynes was a great time, and this one is only going to be bigger.

Lastly, I caught Iron Man 3 last weekend on the big (BIG) screen at the Fenway Regal (totes awesome, by the way). In celebration, enjoy these circa-five-years-ago pictures from the first Iron Man's London premiere.

 

Til next time!

*(Please note that in actuality the principles of economics teach us that even free comics cost money to produce and to shelf – they just don’t cost the customer anything. So… they’re not free, after all.)

Tardiness, of the Most Green Kind

As many of us did, I found a way to celebrate Saint Paddy’s Day... like, a million weekends ago. Following the advice of this article, I kept it simple: a good, home-cooked meal and my closest company. It was a fun, low-key celebration that took us through two hearty meals.

Breakfast’s main course was an omelet, filled with green peppers, cheddar cheese, and green food dye. It was complemented by corn muffins and bacon, and – to make it traditionally Irish – a juice glass of stout and some slices of Irish cheddar. It was a filling meal, a ploughman’s breakfast if ever there was one.

 

Dinner was a delicious stew that, while not traditionally Irish, felt just right for the evening.

Of course, there is always the other side of the coin. Read this undercover account of Boston’s Black Rose for all sorts of Paddy’s Day ballyhoo.

In the spirit of things, enjoy these illustrations of Ireland, based on photos taken from an earlier visit. (And, by the way, that is why this post is so incredibly late).

Til next time!

Boston, You Are Loved

Today, Boston mourns. The events that have led us here have been widely reported. They have also escaped description. Words of mourning and loss have their limits. 

Things have changed indelibly in our city, and our words have described that, but they do not compare to the heaviness in our hearts, the lumps in our throats, or the tears in our eyes. Our grief is a silent one, because the words that would contain it cannot be found.

Likewise, words of comfort and hope cannot be contained. But those we have in abundance, and we are thankful for them.

Boston, today, is a case of the human condition: that our emotions are conflicted – that they coexist despite their divergence – that at the same time we grieve, we hope.

We have heard words that inspire us today, from our religious leaders, our mayor, our governor, and our president. Even these words cannot contain our hope, because long after their utterance, our hearts will still be lifted, our song will still be sung, and our eyes will still shine bright. These speakers have given us more than words: they have reminded us that we are the City of Boston, and we are not just strong, we are Boston strong.

Think to your childhood, about what strong meant then. Strong was sixty home runs, strong was Superman saving Metropolis.  To me, strong seemed superhuman because I didn’t know what it was. Today, I know it is not simply physical or emotional; it comes from one’s will. It is the knowledge not necessarily of what to do (and whether you are prepared or not), but the setting out to do something because it is right.

In its response to this tragedy, Boston has shown its strength, and Boston is beautiful for it. Let us all do something (even something small) to keep Boston beautiful – plant flowers, paint a picture, run, write.

Boston, you are loved.

Overtime, 107-102

For all of the love that I have expressed for the Red Sox, I have neglected the other Boston sports teams. Much to my deficit.

On Friday night I saw my first Celtics game at the Garden. It was a nail-biter to the end. The Celtics played the Atlanta Hawks. Gaining – and then losing – a 10 point lead, the Celtics soon found themselves in a shootout that didn't end until overtime. By the end, everyone in the Garden was on their feet, yelling at the tops of their lungs, and when the buzzer finally announced a win for the C’s, I found myself lifted into the air by my neighbor.

Maybe that’s not how all of the games go, but it was a great time. If you haven’t been yet, grab some tickets before the season ends. Even separate from the game, the Garden puts on a heck of a show.

As for the Garden itself, it is one impressive building. Not only does it house a stadium that seats thousands, it sits atop North Station (oh yeah, it accommodates trains, too). As home to both the Celtics and the Boston Bruins, its exterior façade glows team colors on game day. If the building is gold, the Bruins are up; green and it’s the Celtics.

The stadium seating is tall, not so wide – as in, construction went up because there wasn't any room left to go out. But, hey, it’s not like there’s much spare room around that end of the Bean, anyway. Climbing to the top rows feels a lot like it must have for Romans climbing the Coliseum back in its heyday. Which, I can’t lie, piques my interest for Wrestlemania, coming to the Garden this summer.

Til next time!

Mustachioed Monuments -- Part Deux

Tis the return of the mustachioed monuments!

With mustaches being all that these days, it seems fitting to put them where everyone can see them: skyscrapers. And so I dig into the character and history of the structure in question, finding which hirsute hairstyle is most complimentary.

100 Berkeley Street is home to one of the Bean’s oldest tallest buildings (second tallest from 1947-64), the Berkeley Building, aka the Old John Hancock. Though construction was completed in 1947, it is arguably the most prominent art deco building in Boston, making it something special to its two preceding decades.

Running with its art deco styling and the spirit of the Roaring Twenties (the decade that bore and best represented the movement), my search for the perfect ‘stache began with The Great Gatsby. Unfortunately, neither Robert Redford nor Leonardo DiCaprio wears a mustache in either of their movies (1974 and upcoming in 2013, respectively). And F. Scott Fitzgerald himself didn't either, old sport.

Then inspiration struck – not unsurprisingly – in the form of George Clooney. The mustache that best fits the Berkeley Building is the one that George Clooney wore for O Brother Where Art Thou, set in the 1930s.

Til next time!

Lazy Saturday!

Want the perfect way to wake up early(ish) this weekend?

The answer is simple: take a stroll. Step out of the apartment / condo / brownstone / townhouse / househouse that you call home. Head to a favorite coffee shop, grab a cuppa, and get all zen-like on your own two feet. Sip, walk, relax, and enjoy.

Should you need a suggestion on just where to begin, might I recommend entering the Theater District? Yes, even before primetime.

A quick T-ride to the Boylston Street station puts you within walking distance of Thinking Cup, the coffeehouse that has recently been ranked the best in Massachusetts. And, though I haven’t been to all of the coffee shops in the Commonwealth, the title is not undeserved. Walking into Thinking Cup is like entering the Narnia of all things java. Pull back the heavy brown curtain (just past the entrance) and let the visual and aromatic rush redefine morning buzz for you.

I only grabbed a house coffee (which was delicious) and a pastry. The selection was large and varied in both the pastry and coffee departments. Try the maple-bacon-pecan scone to experience amazing.

Now, regarding that stroll, you have two great options – head into the Common or turn down West Street. Coffee in hand, enjoy a good browse around the outdoor bargain books at the Brattle Book Shop (as long as it’s after 9 am). Maybe you’ll stumble upon the post-apocalyptic-biker-space yarn that I almost nabbed this weekend.

And that would have been another buck well-spent.

Til next time!

Of Beer and Blizzards

I think the Bean deserves some compliments. Nemo was certainly a less-than-pleasant experience, but the city (pedestrians, especially) seemed to come alive with courtesy. Strangers patiently waited for each other to cross streets and sidewalks before barreling themselves through. And I saw more than one group come together to push a stuck car or shovel out a neighbor. So, kudos.

Now, of course, the snow “looks kinda scrummy.”1

So just what do you do while a blizzard reigns?

Seems like as good a time as any to try a new recipe. For months now, I have been excited to make an earnest attempt at pulling Guy Fiere’s Guinness Milkshake out of the digital pixels of foodnetwork.com and putting it into my blender.

Lucky for me, the power didn't go out.  

The shake was Guinnessy-good, and it did not disappoint. One quick recommendation: like any good  recipe, this one works in ounces and cups. It is a bit easier to think of as a cocktail recipe, though; two parts chocolate ice cream, one part stout worked out well for me. (As long as I’ve done my math right – of which, there is only a 60% chance.) Maybe just stick to the recipe as written by Guy Fiere himself.

And on the topic of beer…

I finally put the finishing touches on the new bar tray. The tray itself comes courtesy of West Elm.

The beer labels, however, come courtesy of Beantown.

Many different labels sampled from numerous local establishments such as Thaitation (where it all began with an idea and a bottle of Singha), Cafeteria, Parish Café, Pico, and Happy’s (a sad goodbye). The make-your-own six pack at Trader Joe’s also contributed quite significantly.

I should also add that this project has been ongoing since October of 2012. Which is all to say that for a year and a half I have been peeling and saving beer labels at every restaurant in which I ordered, and, naturally, looking quite odd.

Til next time!

Resolution Check:
+More Beantown
+More art

1. Steinbeck, John. Of Mice and Men. New York: Penguin, 1993. Print.