esrosedotblog

Things seem to be clearing up in Boston.

As a retired Bostonian living in a new place I still have roots there. They are strong and deep and location of my current life cannot remove them.

So I read this item with great interest and affection this morning.

Finding Out Who Shoveled the Boston Marathon Finish Line"

It was a great idea and somehow took a lot of the pain out of the bombing aftermath which seems to bleed daily into all the news outlets.

I will let you read why he did it but it is for the best reason I can think of.

Let's say reverence or affection. It is in his work neighborhood and there it was and he took a shovel to it.

This is the kind of thing that regularly can take the sting out of life's downsides.

I am not a fan of the whole "Boston Proud" thing. Another slogan tainted with the same mindless boastfulness that offends in all other areas of life. Hokum for the boobs.

But there is a quiet pride in Boston in my heart. One which does not go toward aggrandizement or making the town bigger than it is already in my heart.

True pride is quiet and loving and fond.

And, apparently it had nothing to do with the crazy brothers.

Labels: Boston