Tuesday




I was struck at how English, how civilized and how perfect aspects of Boston is. Even the rough and ready parts still are maintained, neat and tidy, no trash, no rough edges--very on the up and up. Being in Cambridge, surrounded by the walls of brick with stone accents, the 12 over 12s or the 12 over 16 panels of glass in the white mullioned windows, the grooved granite slab sidewalks, the perfectly pointed brick, and clean roofs seemed calming--but almost too calm for an atmosphere of learning and intellectual study. It seems a very straight path, very organized and orderly where people don't raise their voices too much, quietly purusing books and publications, and silently accessing the world wide web. It is not the shaggy north we inhabit where there are lots of edges, lots of loud talk and lots of people who are not tucked in, not clean and straight. I didn't see one tattoo parlour in Cambridge unlike Ithaca where you can get ritually decorated on every street corner. It was interesting walking a bit on the campus with Tom who is an HBS graduate. Tom waxed eloquently about the Harvard track--and those who are accepted are honored, but once they get into the "mill" they study hard, live quietly and move through the system until graduation. And after being through the mill, I would surmise, they look to continue this quiet, orderly existence--in panelled clubs with perfect brick and mullioned windows, perhaps moving to Washington or Philadelphia to move the world in small (and large ways) versus the wild haired, loud talking folk from Cornell where the world is your oyster and you can solve a lot of things through feeding the world (with ground peanuts)--prefereably with illustrations winding up your arms and legs and an offbeat tune in your heart. I didn't come to Boston for comparisons--but somehow it seemed obvious and necessary to do.