I’m not really here today. I’m not really procrastinating on my taxes until the very last minute. Here’s why: it’s Patriot’s Day, a legal holiday in Massachusetts.
Today is the Monday when some poor descendent of Paul Revere will ride a horse for a good 30+-mile stretch down the Boston Post Road. There will be a re-enactment of the Revolutionary War – weather permitting. And there will be the Boston Marathon – despite the predicted Nor’ Easter with 30-mph winds.
So, in my vivid imagination, I will be cheering the runners on from the side of the road in Wellesley – within earshot of screaming co-eds. I’ll be bundled up in a layers and foul-weather gear. I’ll enjoy a Red Sox win at Fenway Park from seats on the first base line (I can dream, can't I?) and fan out into the streets just in time to catch runners as they recover from Heartbreak Hill. I’ll be at the finish line on Boylston Street, admiring the reflection of old churches in the blue glass of the John Hancock tower - and the guts of all those people who qualified for the race in the first place.
I’ll wake up plenty early to see the coverage on Versus. I’ll drink lots of coffee. But in my mind, it might be a tall Rolling Rock.
Then, I'll go for a run.
Magazines Left: 9
New Ones: 4