Jul. 5th, 2017

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Starting with the eve of. Every year, the Lexington fireworks are advertised as beginning "at dusk," rather than just stating outright that the scheduled time is 9:30 PM, unless something or other comes up. If Arthur is around again next year (he is often out of town), I will try to not insist that we go down the street (a good viewing spot is about a two minute walk away) far too early. Nice local scene, a good mix of ancestral nationalities, lots of children, too many cars, pleasant lights in the sky.

Morning of - I started a project that made us leave fifteen minutes later than the scheduled 10:45 (so that we could be at Old North before noon), but due to an amazing combination of getting a parking space right outside of Davis station (no buses to/from Lexington on Sundays or holidays) a Red Line train that came in three minutes, connecting to a Green line train that pulled up as we hit the platform at Park Street, we were actually almost fifteen minutes early. Precisely what google maps claims for driving the whole way, and that doesn't include finding a space in the North End. I sent the T a thank-you email.
Noon ringing was good, lots of ringers and friends in attendance. The snacks we provided (three kinds of berries, store-bought cake, chips) were mostly consumed. Out of the tower in time to avoid inconveniencing the tour people. Some confusion about lunch, but Arthur and I and three others had take-out food under a tree on the Greenway.
Arthur and I walked over to the Church of the Advent to put the dinner picnic food in the fridge, and then considered what to do in the four+ hours before said picnic. We decided to go see Wonder Woman at the Boston Common Loews. It was pretty good, but we think we have had enough superhero movies. We liked the temperature, sound level, and seats at the theater. The Burlington Ten, our closest (geographically) blockbuster theater, is always too loud and they have recliner chairs that we find uncomfortable.
After that, we wandered over to the Frog Pond and surrounded ourselves with America. Many colors, languages, ages, financial levels, all enjoying the late afternoon together, either wading or playing at the playground, eating, getting faces painted, sitting quietly on a bench watching people, taking selfies with the statues on the Common.
After that came the only rant-inducing time of day. We were going to walk in the Public Garden, but it was locked. Gates chained shut. I asked a nearby police officer, who said it was because of the bad things happening in the world. I called the BPD non-emergency number (Arthur: you have that in your phone? me: yes) and complained. The dispatcher switched me over to City Hall, and after a few rings I got a customer service person of some sort. He said it was the State Police's idea, not the city's. I don't actually have *their* number, so we kept walking. After realizing how far one has to walk to be inspected just to stroll to the esplanade, we gave up. I noticed Bill Evans, the BPD commissioner, standing on a median, in casual clothes, chatting with passersby. (Arthur: How do you know who that is? Me: he's famous. I've seem him at the Mother's Day march in Dorchester, and in the New Year's Eve procession, and on TV many times. He's famous). I waited my turn, then started my rant. He said it wasn't a security decision at all, and that the park police had shut it down at the request of the Friends of the Public Garden, who feel that the garden can't cope with the 4th of July crowds. Harrumph. Tell that to the sad family we saw, who couldn't ride Swan boats and then got to the carousel too late as well. Maybe he used his influence, because when we walked by at 11:15 PM, the gates were open again.
Lovely potluck picnic with ringers in the church garden, good ringing for the concert (although we wish we were more audible above the sound of the chimes on stage), good fireworks in ideal weather (not rainy or windy or so hot that one would be miserable) , and a mostly efficient trip home. It was better ages ago when the concert started (and therefore ended) an hour earlier, but if one has to be up that late, it's a pleasant way to occupy the time.


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