A P.S. on Publishing

First, it was Jordan Marsh.

Then it was The Boston Globe.

Followed by Filene's.

What next? Larry Luchino and George Steinbrenner get wise to the economies of scale, merge, and have The Boston Yankees play against their sister franchise, The New York Sox?

Enough with the Manhanttanization of the land of the b 'n c....already.

And the benefits of merging are apparently not lost on The Grey Lady's editors, who seem to be assigning stories to both theirGlobe and Timesunderlings on a "kill two birds with one stone" basis. Otherwise, how do you explain this story in The New York Times, and this story The Boston Globeboth of which appeared on the February 21.

Or is it that Wednesday is still Prince Spaghetti Day?

Freedom of, and from, speech

Part 1: Freedom of Speech
Okay, so here in the land of the b 'n c, we had an interesting kerfuffle about electronic freedom of speech vs. freedom from (certain) speech.

Over at Etiquetteer.com, our guide to Perfect Propriety does a wonderful job of outlining the particulars of the situation. And, I have to say: I agree completely. With the advent of technology such as the one employed to create this blog, there has been an utter lack of civic instruction with regard to the eventual distribution of that technology. If 14-year-olds have access to a computer and the internet, they then must be taught that what they publish—and make no mistake, blogging or MySpace pages are publishing—is open for all to read.
(Let's just consider this: Why do "public" and "publish" share such close taxonomic roots? They are connected.)

And if your average 14-year-old chooses to use profanity, than he or she should not feign horror or shock when profanity is used back at them.

Part 2: Freedom from Speech
Company today requested that I be nicer to it. Company wants me to "not be so blunt, and perhaps, take an interpersonal relationships course".

Company has determined that it does not want me to speak freely. I don't agree.

Since technically, Company has more individual rights than I do, does that mean I must abide by Company's desire for freedom from certain of my speech? Where does the country end and Company begin?

Sigh.

Frakkin' rain

And here I was, levitating with glee about a big, ole' snowstorm....but no.

A mighty swath of tropical air is pushing the arctic cold front northwest just far enough to make certain that those of us dwelling inside and southeast of said tropical swath will see our hard-won, paltry, three inches of snow turn to slush by 3PM tomorrow afternoon.

Poopy smell-head warm air mass!

Cheese and Snow

Is it remotely possible to have a better weekend than one surrounded by good friends, good cheese, and good wine? I think not. Well, I suppose the whole thing could have taken place in a cozy, remote cabin surrounded by quietly wheezing pine trees and mounds of fluffy, yet sculpture- and ski-friendly snow.

Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot. It's never going to snow in Boston, again, is it? No, it's not. Thank you ExxonMobil.

Or is it? YES!!!

Let me frame my excitement for you:

Meteorologists on New England-based television stations get, on average, three to four times as much air-time as meteorologists in other parts of the country. Further, our local affiliates do not—DO NOT—hire "weather readers". In order to work those blue screens, you have to be a genuine scientist.

So, that said, these poor guys and gals have been stuck in the most boring weather pattern this side of of a desert. For almost two solid weeks, it's been "dry and cold...artic air will continue to settle over the area, and it will be bright and sunny".

Forecasters do not move here to say that.
They move to San Diego.

Residents do not live here to endure that.
They move to San Diego.

So I honestly can't recall the last time I've seen so many of our local meteorlogists practically levitate with glee at the potential for a serious snowstorm on Valentine's Day.

And, with so much cheese and wine and good fellowship still in me, I too, and levitating with glee.

Citizen Charlie

While my ideal method of transportation to and from the office would be....padding to the computer in my jammies, for now I either take the subway (the "T" for all those not residing in the land of the bean and the cod), or ride my bike.

And so, it is to the T we now turn our attention.

We who ride the T have become Citizen Charlie. On a good, high-functioning, not-counting-the-commuter-rail day, there are about a million of us. And Citizen Charlie is accustomed to:
• having packages, boxes, and bags shoved in our face if we are lucky enough to grab a seat
• learning to decipher a PA system that sounds like seven hoarse huskies barking into a wind tunnel
• using scampering mice at Park Street as a train-detection arrival system and wondering why the mice don't get smushed
• standing on the outdoor Green Line platforms in every wind and weather and realizing that we still have it better than the bus riders
• trying to explain where the name "Lechmere" comes from
• convincing confused tourists that the Government Center T stop is notthe entrance to a city-wide safety bunker
• looking on with scorn and disdain as the suburban, auto-driving masses invade our territory during Red Sox/Celtics/Bruins season and have the nerve to complain (File this one under, "Only I may complain about my family.")

And while this list is entertaining enough, it naturally brings me to the biggest, weirdest, most pressing issue of all:

Who the hell is Charlie?

This clip from YouTube features the Kingston Trio singing the song, but not including the political portion. (Clearly, the creator lives in Newton....the Green Line, commuter rail, and trees.)

So, as you drive/bike/rail/sail/fly/pad back to bed in your jammies home tonight...hum a tune, sing a song, and remember this: We are all Citizen Charlie....fightin' corruption and just trying to get where we're going.