Independence Day

The 4th of July, or Independence Day is big business in Boston. As the cradle of liberty, the birthplace of the revolution - and quite a few smaller revolutions post-1776 - Boston takes the Fourth of July seriously. Millions of dollars in fireworks displays. Reading the declaration of Independence from the same State House window as it was back in 1773, marching bands, musket rallies, battle reenactments, we've got something for everyone. History buff? Family with small children? Chowder lover? Check, check, check.

Harborfest is a week-long celebration of early American history and the American spirit of independence resplendent with Revolutionary battle reenactments  walking tours, open houses, and a clam chowder tasting contest, which unfortunately fell on one of the hottest days of the year this month. We decided to try something new this year and sojourned seaward.

One of the hidden gems of the city is the Boston Harbor Islands, a collection of tiny land dots scattered through the outer harbor of Boston and Massachusetts Bay. Amongst these 34 islands there is a Civil War fort, the oldest continually operating lighthouse in the U.S., and a surprisingly collection of history and wildlife. The immersion experience is camping on an one of the islands. We took it a step further and ended up on a very southerly island with no running water; Grape Island.

The trek from home was a T ride, two different ferries, and a short hike through the newest version of New England weather: muggy tropical jungle hot not dissimilar to the surface of the sun. We managed to set up the tent before we threw ourselves in the ocean which seemed remarkably warm for July. We feasted on nutella and peanut butter sandwiches and cheese and crackers before hiking every walking path on the island.

As the day worn thin we ventured to the coast to see the sunset and scope out a firework viewing spot. The bugs chased us to the beach, where we took up residence on a rock; as high tide crashed at our feet we watched over a half dozen firework displays from around the harbor light up the night sky. To cap off the night we made a fire on the beach and roasted marshmallows. After a night of sleeping on the ground (which I last did in the aftermath of my 22nd birthday and would like to continue avoiding, thank you very much) we trudged back home in dire need of a shower.

It was a great trip filled with all the adventure of camping in the wildness right in downtown Boston's front yard. I think next time we’ll aim to get a place with running water though.

2012: A Year in Review Part I

2012 is a year that will live in infamy. Not only did I get married and Obama was re-elected, I also met Jeanette Winterson and visited the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. Momentous, if i do say so myself.  So for posterity and good cheer, here’s the year in review:

January
 

See?

It is a little known fact that Hogwarts is located a short distance from Jurassic Park, but I now am privy to this important geological knowledge. The Wizarding World of Harry Potter or affectionately “Harry Potter Land” is located in Orlando, Florida as consolation to all the Americans not lucky enough to actually be British. It is so cleverly appointed, right down to Moaning Mrytle’s incessant weeping and wailing in the girl’s bathroom. It is almost as fun to stand in line as it is to get on the Hogwart’s ride, as you snake through the school grounds, scoping out the greenhouse and Dumbledore's office. Two engaged, late twenty-somethings gallivanting around on the only 40 degree day in Florida to the sound of John William’s “Hedwig Theme” was purely romantic. And cold, but you have to suffer for the things you love.

February

I debate each year which month is worse: February or March. In New England, they are both piercingly cold, dark, mostly miserable time spans. Valentine’s candy typically pushes February ahead of March, but not this year.  I don’t remember anything of note.

March

I think I’ve traditionally disliked March more than other months since by then I am so deep in the SAD disorder, I want to sleep under a heat lamp and can only watch uncomplicated children’s movies without full on weeping. They lied when they quipped “March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb.” In the northeast, it normally just rains or snows or both, all month long.
 
But this March, I met Jeanette Winterson. British author of “The Powerbook”, “The Passion”, and her cover story / autobiography “Why be Happy when you could be Normal”, Winterson is one of my favorite contemporary writers.  And I met her. I said some silly things to her and she signed my copy of “The Powerbook.” Then I swooned all the way home and bought more of her books on Amazon. It was one of those inspiring experiences that made me simply happy to exist.

Oh you know, me and Jeanette.

 April

April 30th was our four year anniversary (and Queen’s Day in the Netherlands). This year was even more special as we would be getting married in two months, on another 30th. We had afternoon tea at the Four Seasons in Boston and semi-anxiously awaited the upcoming nuptials...by pretending nothing was happening at all.

May

About a month before my wedding, in the midst of a plethora of activity and events, I started this blog. I loved to write and wanted to do it more often, but I needed structure (and positive feedback). Thus “Tea and Circuses” was born and I finally stopped being a total creeper and actually started commenting on some of the blogs I had been reading for years.

June

On June 30, 2012, I married my best friend.  While many people make this cliche statement, I actually mean it.  April and I are madly in love and very compatible, but we spend more time playing silly games, reenacting chase scenes through the house, quoting “Shaun of the Dead” or "Austin Powers" and engaging in general ridiculousness than we do gazing into each others’ eyes and reciting poetry. Though I do sometimes read the sex columns and Jeremy Clarkson pieces out loud to her. She brings me tea every morning and rubs my perpetually sore muscles. I cook her favorite meals  and pack her lunches for work. We are the couple the photographer turns to, even when it’s not our wedding but I rarely notice, since I’m usually whispering to April to check out someone’s unfortunate dress choice.

 Part II to follow...

Election Day 2012

Today is Election Day in the United States of America.  It is a close race and this evening promises to be a long night.  I have avoided election coverage, chose to not watch the debates, and have refused to discuss the situation with anyone other than my wife.  I have waited for this day to be over for the past six months and now face the last grueling hours.  The next 10 to 12 hours may be what is left of many of my freedoms. 

 

Under Mitt Romney, my marriage could be declared invalid and my wife barred from my hospital bedside.  My reproductive rights, my right to choose if and when I have children, and the protection from someone else’s definition of rape could all be jeopardized.  The negative influence would probably not end there, but I can barely bring myself to consider what else may change, disappear, evaporate.  

Romney and a large portion of the GOP threaten my family, my marriage, my love because of pure bigotry cloaked in self-righteous religion.  I have tried to be reasonable, cooperative, bi-partisan – as President Obama has – and we all see where that has gotten us.  I will not stand to be stripped of my basic rights as an American.  I will not tolerate hatred and bigotry, even if they brand me a crazed liberal, fem-nazi, anti-American.  I voted for myself, my gender, my sexuality, my race and every other, and for America.  I hope each and every one of you does the same.