There’s going to be a public meeting (on my birthday, no less) about turning a defunct bar in Coolidge Corner (about a 10-minute walk from our house) into a marijuanna dispensary. That’s progress, I guess. Doesn’t make up for all the years the stuff loomed over my life like a cop with radiant eyes. But, hey, there’s no question it’s an improvement over a hooch hole that was notorious for selling booze to college kids even if they were shitfaced.
Here’s the scoop.
PS: I must note that the Globe added an excellent tidbit — because of its riotous, drunken atmosphere, the place was nicknamed “Scary Mary’s.”
but owning a car in MA is good practice for the nasty corners of Purgatory.
At 5:46 p.m., a caller told police she believed her bed was taken and replaced with a different bed.
At 1:29 p.m., an anonymous caller reported that a vehicle let out five turkeys onto Centre Street.
As always, from “Police Incidents”:
Suspicious hair on Aspinwall Avenue: At 5:23 p.m., caller reported seeing a large amount of hair stick out of the green utility box on the corner of Aspinwall Avenue and Harvard Street, by the Walgreens. The caller did not see anything else.
Now I have to put the lovely artwork of this CD in the Never-Play Shitpile with the Nuge.
Hey, the rain today wasn’t a ferocious as predicted …. got to see modern dance presentation at the Isabella Stewart Gardner and get one of my good ganders at a painting of a demon by someone who believed they were real.
(It’s “Saint Michael, Archangel.” The demon does not look like any clever monster-mashups from scary creatures. Really suggests something not from this universe.)
“a caller reported that a flock of turkeys had been separated behind the tennis courts. The caller said that one turkey could not figure out how to reunite with the family on the other side of the fence and all the turkeys were pacing back and forth.”
“a caller reported a blue jay appeared ill and had not moved ‘for hours.’ The caller said the bird was near the farm stand and that lots of people had been touching it.”
Which is what we called him when I took his BU disinformation class in 1979.
As you can tell, very witty, yet made sharp, even corrosive points. One story I remember is that he mentioned learning Elvis Presley songs on acoustic guitar “so young people would trust us at parties.”
One of the most informative and enlightening classes I ever attended.