In Which Our Heroine Realizes Her Identity
I realized it the other day.... I'm a Bostonian.
This is impressive, as I've never really felt like I was from somewhere before. We moved a lot when I was a kid. Granted, it was never very far, but it always was far enough to change schools (and once even change back.) But only one person I know lives in the town where I grew up now, and I wouldn't recognize the place if I went back. I'm not from there any more, if I ever was.
But I sat there on Monday, having taken most of the day off work to watch the Red Sox home opener against the Yankees, and even more importantly watch them get their World Series rings, and during an opening video of Boston sports moments (which was at least 20 minutes long) I realized I'm now *from* here. I recognize Bobby Orr and Ray Bourque, and I'm not even a hockey fan. I know why the new bridge should be called the "Bill Buckner Bridge," I know the curse of the Bambino, who Yaz, Teddy Ballgame, and Catfish Hunter were. I can name my senators, and even my US Representative. I know the history of Beacon Hill, where the opening shots of the Revolution were fired, that the Battle of Bunker Hill was fought on Breed's Hill, and that where the current tea party ship is docked is not where it was docked when Sam Adams and co staged the Boston tea party. I know that Evacuation Day is Marathon Day, when the Head of the Charles is, and the names of every bridge on the Charles for over 10 miles.
Most importantly (and this is the true test), I can "get they-ah from he-yah." And once you can do that, it is official. You are from he-yah.
P.S. Visa arrived today. Now that I'm from here, I'm leaving!