We arrived in Boston on a drizzly Thursday afternoon, made our way to our fabulous airbnb room (the bathroom itself is worth the visit), and then headed out to davis square for something to eat. We ended up at redbones (a rib place) – the pulled pork was pretty good and the vinegar sauce made it amazing. Emily had the brisket which was a little dry but pretty good. I had a 15th Anniversary Escondidian Imperial Black IPA to drink – super excellent. We walked and walked and walked – around Davis square, then to Harvard and around Harvard Yard. Emily says:
“Harvard is just as surreal as one would imagine…students waxing philosophical on the greens, students playing classical flute and violin out of their dorm windows, girls practicing ballet in high studio windows, at least one over extended asperger student stuttering complex formulas aloud in repetitive fashion, and an exorbitant number of blond boys in khakis and silk striped ties looking like they owned the place. It was both frightening and strangely comforting…”
We headed back to Davis square for a nightcap (Harpoon Belgian Pale Ale on cask & Shipyard’s Smashed Pumpkin – meh) – then tried to sneak back into the house without waking the other guests. No go – Roberto’s very friendly & enthusiastic rottweiler/doberman mix barked for ten minutes after we arrived.
Friday morning we headed to the Isabella Gardner Museum – a place highly recommended by one of Emily’s coworkers, metafilter, and our gracious host Roberto.
Boston. Fenway Court. View from the entrance by Boston Public Library, on Flickr
The Isabella Gardner museum is a fabulous place, curated by Isabella from the ground up as a gallery. Everything in the museum is exactly as it was on the day she died, and a stipulation of her will is that the collection must remain that way or the entire collection must be sold. She combined art from different countries and eras – she loved tapestries and sculpture and portraits – and it is a truly magical place.
After a few hours there we went to have lunch at the Buddhist Cultural Center – turnip cakes & veggies & tofu & tea. Super delicious. We walked from the Central T stop down to MIT. Walked along the Charles River, watched the sailboats turn and dip in tandem. Walked across Longfellow Bridge, through Beacon Hill, to the Boston Commons. Walked all around there, too, and through the Gardens where we watched the ducks and swans. A guy was playing a weird instrument – part guitar, part accordion, part wind up box – it was cool to watch but annoying to listen to. Ended up at the Intermission Bar in the theatre district, drank more beer (Sam Adams Brick Red) and had some deep fried pita bread w/ red pepper hummus. Met an interesting artist from St. Augustine who convinced us to go to Cuba. We did not get to try the pineapple vodka (the bartender advised waiting: “it’s not good until the pineapple looks nasty”). Stumbled back to the house around midnight.
Outliers: The Story of Success is another one of those straightforward “why didn’t I think of that” books. The premise of the book is that success is something that can be cultivated, but that circumstances surrounding a person can influence “success” a great deal. For instance, if you want your son to be a successful hockey player, you should try to have them born in January, February or March. That gives them a slight advantage physically when they are playing junior league hockey – a kid born in January will be bigger and faster than a kid born in December, but they will play on the same team. That slight advantage will turn into a larger advantage as the kid grows up – obviously the kid has to have talent, but if he does have talent, being bigger than other kids his age is a definite advantage. Gladwell also talks about the 10,000 Hour Rule – basically, it takes ten thousand hours to master a skill. Professional musicians? They practice their asses off, so by the time they reach college they have amassed more practice time than their peers. Same thing with athletes and technology gurus.
