Sitting in traffic on Route 128 on Friday afternoon, I was reminded of a commercial for a local tire company which features a little girl proclaiming to the world, in an adorable Southie-accented mumble, that the aforementioned highway was “a parking lot”. I was on my way to Fred’s for my haircut, and to see JonMartin for the first time in months, and, for once, I didn’t let the traffic get the best of me. I just puttered along like everyone else and didn’t scream even once.
I wanted to scream later on when I heard that the crowd at Fenway Park had been booing Manny Ramirez, but that’s a whole other story.
Fred trimmed my hair while he and Jon talked about England and Shakespeare and other assorted things. I hadn’t heard much more than Fred regarding Jon’s time abroad, so, for the most part, I just listened. When the conversation turned to Harry Potter… well, then I had to butt in. I suppose that, as a supposed Master of Fine Arts, I should feel slightly embarrassed that I know more about the works of J.K. Rowling than I do about the works of one William Shakespeare, but I don’t.
And, other than that, there wasn’t much to report on Friday. Work went well, but I’m considering alternate commuting routes which may save time, money, and wear and tear on my car. That’s all for another day, though.