The plan today was to head into Boston to meet up with my local Lesley friends. We were to meet at the Museum of Fine Arts at 2 PM. Now, since there was a Sox game going down at Fenway, I decided to get going really early. I ended up in town even before one o’clock, despite long lines at the subway station I got on at. A walk through Boston was warranted, I thought, and with as much time as I had, I decided a walk past Fenway Park was in the cards as well.
I haven’t been to see a Red Sox game since I was in Little League and Cub Scouts, when going to a game was a frequent Springtime field trip. Walking around the park as a game was going on really made me want to get back in there, to see a game again. I paused near one of the gates where they’d recently installed a Ted Williams statue. While I was reading the plaque, I started to here the crowd cheer. Someone on the Yankees, it turned out, had just struck out or been tagged out or something. I looked up at the huge video scoreboard, which was visible from outside the park, and A-Rod’s picture came up. The booing was intense and it brought a smile to my face. I knew it would simply become my mission to get into that park this season.
So, with little time to spare, I started my way back towards the city proper in order to get over to the Museum in time. Or, at least I thought I was headed back in the direction of the city. I ended up getting lost on the streets surrounding the park and I lost sight of the Pru, which is the building I always use to get my bearings. When I finally did catch sight of it, I discovered I was headed in the wrong direction. I hurried along. I was going to be late.
It turned out that, with a bit of hustle, I did make it on time. Sara and Jill were waiting outside the MFA and we met up with smiles and a short conversation about how they thought, from a distance, some frumpy, grumpy, kinda plumpy kid standing against a wall might have been me. I looked at him and understood how they could make that mistake, but when we got closer we all decided it wasn’t me.
Inside the museum, we checked out the Gauguin Tahiti exhibit. It was quite good, but quite crowded. I was most fond of his wooden sculpture work, which reminded me of the Polynesian Cultural Center I visited while in Hawaii. Elsewhere, we spent some time looking at nineteenth century American stuff, including some great maritime paintings by Winslow Homer. There was another artist, whose name I can’t recall, who’d done a spectacular painting of Boston’s harbor and skyline.
After the museum, we walked towards Copley Square along Huntington and I tried to tell if the Sox had won or not based on the faces of fans in hats and shirts coming from the direction of the park. I couldn’t get a read on them at all. Sara, Jill, and I ended up eating dinner at the Cheesecake Factory, right near the Prudential building and it was fabulous. I had an open-faced Meatloaf sandwich with mashed potatoes and onion strips, covered in barbeque sauce… It was delicious. The brownie sundae cheescake I bought wasn’t too shabby either.
It was time to start heading home then, but we decided to trek through the city back to the Park Street T station instead of riding the noisy Green line subway to get there. We walked through the Public Gardens and the Common and we got on the T and that was it.
All in all, it was a good time and, though my legs are sore, I’d be ready to do it again tomorrow in a heartbeat.