Cross-Country Road Trip! Day 45-47, Mile 6948: (Mostly) Happy Times in the Home of the Bean and the Cod.

Is joy dead? 

 

If you look around the world today, you might be tempted to think so. But like the snake swallowing its own tail, the eternal cycle of grief and joy will inevitably come back to joy. You have to nab it while you can.

And that's what we're doing on this trip. With a little help from our family and friends. 

We've been lucky enough to have met up with an amazing number of both as we drive in a huge circle around the country, a journey that will inevitably end with us right where we started, but much richer in experience.

Boston was no exception to this dance of friends and family. We started our visit with a magnificent walk with two old friends. Nina used to work with us at the ad agency where I met O almost 40 years ago. We met her and her husband Jim at Mt. Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge.

In spite of the fact that it is a cemetery, Mt. Auburn is a deeply happy place to walk, especially in the spring.

The sun filtering through the newly-leafed trees, the spring flowers, the singing of the many birds all contribute to a feeling of peace and well-being--joy in being alive. We had time to catch up on each others lives and to marvel at the beauty of the setting.

Mt. Auburn is a National Historical Site. Not only are there many historical figures buried here, but it's also the first landscaped or garden cemetery in the U.S. Before its design, cemetery were utilitarian burying grounds, usually affiliated with a church. Mt. Auburn is a botanical garden and arboretum as well as a cemetery, its hills and valleys are home to over 5,500 trees of over 700 species.

It made us all very happy.

Though there are some spooky parts that are more traditionally graveyard-like.

The next day, we walked from our hotel in South Bay to the seafront district. The day was sunny, but quite windy, and though the temperature was in the low fifties, the moisture in the air gave the wind a strong bite. 

We smelled the Fish Pier for many blocks before we laid eyes on it.

We stopped for lunch at Ye Olde Oyster House, which claims to be the oldest restaurant in America. Mr. Google claims otherwise. In any case, it's pretty old and has quite a history. Many of the founding fathers stopped here for oysters, and Daniel Webster was a regular. The booths in the oyster bar are unchanged since 1826. 

The oysters were still worth ordering, but the rest of the meal was mediocre. 

And there was something a little fishy about these servers.

O had to study for a class she's taking, so she took a Lyft back to the hotel while I wandered through the meandering narrow streets toward the North End.

There was the Old North Church where the two lights signaled the British approach by sea to Paul Revere.

Close by is one of my favorite burial grounds of the pre-landscaped era. Copp's Hill Burying Ground plays a disturbing part in Lovecraft's story Pickman's Model, and I delight to stroll its ghoul-haunted paths.

In its early days there were no trees to soften its bleak purpose.

These days it's rather more attractive, even peaceful. No sign of feasting ghouls.

Almost 80% of the old headstones feature this popular winged skull motif.

Okay, so there's one ghoul. This is the tomb of the Mather family. Increase Mather is buried here along with his infamous son, Cotton.

Since the Republican party seems determined to resurrect his theological and legal views and return us to a pre-Enlightenment form of governance, the least I could do is visit his grave and wish fervently for him to rest in peace.

The day was so beautiful that I continued my meanderings across the Charles River. 

These old locks remain from the days when canal boats were the primary way to move freight.

In the distance I could see the masts of the U.S.S. Constitution and what looked to me like a Fletcher-class destroyer. I knew I had to check them out.

It was indeed a Fletcher-class destroyer, the U.S.S. Cassin Young, commissioned in 1943. The ship survived two kamikaze attacks during WWII. I built a model of the U.S.S. Fletcher (first of its class) when I was a kid, so I can easily recognize the lines of these ships, the most numerous class of destroyers built during the war. The two stacks and those blocky 5" gun turrets are a dead giveaway.

Old Ironsides is considered a terrorist target, I guess, judging by the amount of security around it. I couldn't get close enough to take many pictures without going through a security screening and probably a cavity search, so I kept walking.

Next, I walked through the old streets of Beacon Hill, where the wealthiest of the Boston Brahmins lived. There are still many charming, and expensive, old row houses here, with gas lamps to further the elite old-money ambiance.

Window boxes packed with flowers and brick courtyards with flowering trees make the area a lovely place to walk.

Walking further down Commonwealth Avenue and Dartmouth Street to Copley Plaza past a plethora of beautiful old buildings, I found myself appreciating Boston in a way I haven't all the other times I've been here. 

I stopped by the restaurant where we were to meet another set of friends later that evening. Seemed legit.

Then I decided to walk the rest of the way back to our hotel, about an hour away.

I walked through several other historical neighborhoods, but as I continued south on Southhampton Avenue, the environment changed.

First their was Boston Medical Center, a modern-looking building, but surrounded by patients in wheelchairs and on crutches. Most of them were Black and poor, I assume, because anyone white or with means would have a way off the street.

As I continued south, things got bleaker, there was a strip mall church surrounded by a milling crowd of people, most with obvious disabilities, both physical and mental, with nowhere else to go, waiting for food.

A few blocks further, a few parked police cars did nothing to deter a man from squatting to take a shit on the sidewalk and another man from sticking a needle in his vein.

They were not joyful. And neither, now, was I.

I continued on to the hotel, footsore, and full of heartache. I had walked over 13 miles and I was spent. On many levels.

But for some of us lucky souls, the snake keeps swallowing and joy comes around again. This time in the form of Daniel and Trang.

O and I met Trang in Vietnam in 2009. She was one of our students there, and we've kept in touch via Facebook ever since. Last year, she married Daniel and they went on a months-long road trip that took them through Boise. They stayed at our house for the last couple weeks of December, then continued on their merry way. We had a lot of fun together and we looking forward to meeting them in Boston. Their enthusiasm for life gives us great joy.

We were also supposed to meet my nephew, Spencer, who recently moved here. He, Trang, and Daniel all work in the medical tech field, and we thought they could do some good networking together. Spencer made a reservation for all of us at Buttermilk & Bourbon, an edgy Southern-style restaurant, but he came down with a cold the day we were supposed to meet.

We were so disappointed to miss him! The food was good, the company even better, but there was definitely a Spencer-sized hole in the evening. 

This delicious raspberry bread pudding is for you, Spencer. I hope you can enjoy it soon.

So thanks, Nina and Jim, Trang and Daniel, and Spencer for making our visit to Boston a happy time.

Joy to you all.

P.