Dearest Rachel –
We’ve come in to Boston by sea. I found myself waking up at a quarter to five to watch as various harbor lights passed by (I wasn’t wearing my glasses in bed, so I couldn’t tell you anything more specific than that); that’s what comes from collapsing to sleep by nine in the evening. I dare say that Paul Revere would be hard pressed to get the message from his compatriots, with all the other visual noise out there.
Of course, it’s not as if Boston would feel the need to be taking up arms against the likes of ourselves; quite the opposite. We may not be big-bucks contributors to the local economy, but the fact that we’re here means that we’re likely to spend at least some time and money here, and who’s opposed to that? Money isn’t red or blue, it’s green (and please, don’t come at me about the new multi-color banknotes; you know what I mean). We’re not enemies here, we’re customers.
Then again, we’re a lot of customers arriving all at once. And while we’re not enough to raise the population by even a single percentage point – and I suppose that Daniel and I are outliers insofar as we’re staying in town, as opposed to heading directly to Logan airport for a ride home (wherever that may be), since tomorrow is a Monday, and folks need to be back at their jobs and what not (hoo boy, do I remember those days) – it’s still enough to make an impact, I would think. And they should wish to welcome us and our wallets with open arms.
So while Daniel and I aren’t exactly red-carpet types – we neither ask for nor really want that level of treatment on our arrival – I’d like to hope that the city has itself readied for its visitors. So, here’s to hanging out the two lanterns, because we’re coming in by sea. Are you ready for us, Boston?
I’ll let you know soon enough, honey; until then, keep an eye on us, and wish us luck. We’re going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 