The Best Of Boston

Myself and Hayley went to the Harvard Natural History Museum on Sunday and while we didn't stay for long I founds two areas of note. They had a marvellous collection of mineral samples and while I've not previously mentioned my love of minerals I did spend much of Saturday night fondling a large bar of what might have been calcite at Elspeth's flat which may have piqued my curiosity on the following morning. There were some very dark, black samples which may have been manganite, galena and antimony samples which I can heartily recommend.

It could all have gone downhill from there but no, the very next room housed the amazing (yes, amazing) collection of glass flowers made by Leopold and Rudolph Blaschka. They made marine animals out of glass for the purposes of display and education back in the 19th Century. Someone saw one of their jellyfish or something and commissioned them to make a huge range of glass flowers. These cats knew their glass and they clearly didn't get out much, the collection is stunning.

Before the Natural History museum we went to the Peabody Museum. Not so much.

However, Peta met us later in the day and we went to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum which was probably one of the best museums I've been to for the following reasons, (a) small, (b) no explanatory plaques to reveal what I was looking at (c) it was closing an hour after we arrived (d) great garden.

No piles today

Following recent concerns over my health I am happy to report that I have no problems with haemorrhoids.

No pain when sitting down, no grimacing on the lavatory and no blood in my underpants. It's all gravy as they say. I think over here they say there are no lumps in their Cream O' Wheat.

When speaking of haemorrhoids I don't imagine that  sufferers would enjoy thinking about either gravy or the aforementioned lumps but there you are. I am not suffering from them and while I pity those poor souls who have been neglecting their diet to such an extent that their farmers are playing up again I can't curb my enthusiasm solely to suit their delicate ears.

Customer Survey

Thank you to those readers who responded to our request for some feedback on your experience while reading our blog. The responses have been compiled and we will be revealing your suggestions over the coming weeks.

This week we wanted to focus on the most common response to the question, "What can The Boston Cheese Party do improve?" It seems that most readers are finding the blog to be preoccupied with matters related to dentistry and as one responded wrote, "Who wants to read all this misery? Just make up some happy shit."

So with these sage words in mind we would welcome to you to our special series, Happy Shit.

Another fun day at the dentist.

Three hours for a clean today. Apparently they need to practice their hand skills so no machinery allowed...hence the epic scraping.
Thankfully a local anesthetic was allowed but curiously it was Pina Colada flavour.
Back again tomorrow for some more root canal.
Do I have anything else to write about other than my teeth?
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Throwing In The Towel

While my boxing career has yet to reach the heights of the late, great Frank Bruno I know what he meant when he said, 'Boxing is the toughest and loneliest sport in the world'. Those who have never lived the life of a fighter may strive to include mountain climbing in the lonely sports list but I can tell you from bitter personal experience that being punched repeatedly on the side of the head by a stranger is a pretty lonely experience.

That's why I find myself sitting here tonight considering my future in the ring. Tonight was my first day back at boxing and frankly I wasn't looking forward to it. I've been to the gym four times in the last five days in a vain attempt to ready myself for the physical demands of the class but I was unprepared for the mental scars which would result from being humiliated by a man half my age, with twice my strength who seemed a little irked at being paired up with me and explained that I'd learn nothing of he didn't go for me with real punches. School's out mister!

I have experienced the thrill of being punched in the head when training on King Island but on that occasion Elgin (the coach rather than the marble enthusiast) knew what he was doing and hit me a manner which suggested that he knew what he was doing and was sharpening my skills. My 'buddy' for this evening however took more of the school of hard knocks approach, making no allowances for my feeble reaction times and my limited capacity for prompt evasion.

Once we moved upstairs for pad work I was thankfully paired with George who is a delightful coach, humble, knowledgeable and considerate but the damage was done and I felt dejected and left class early (before we sang our club song and did that thing when you all get in a huddle and shout 'TEAM' while simultaneously throwing an arm in the air.

Admittedly I was already in a shitty mood not having quite recovered from the loss of my dear bicycle which caused me to head out the hills last night in search of the succour one finds in a cigarette. Things were that bad it was time to pull out the dramatic gesture! As I positioned myself on the hill next to the Harvard Observatory       I pulled my tobacco from my pocket (where it has lain dormant for what seems like a month) and realised that I had no Rizla with which to construct my symbol of anger and frustration with which I would rage at the cruelties of a world that allows someone to receive an interim bill for $6000 for their teeth, have a bike stolen and have failed to take out insurance on either of these eventualities, all in the same week.

I now console myself with wine and have taken the additional precaution of 150mg of Tramedol which is in theory for my back but is in practise for my mood. I expect that's how it started for that Aussie bloke who played the Joker. 'Just a little something to take the edge of the loss of my bike'. And look where he ended up. But he didn't actually because that bloke with the beard says he was 'whacked' by a hit squad of star killers.

Glad I've got to the end of that posting.

Good news, bad news.

I'm sitting in the second row of a free screening of Four Lions, the new (first?)Chris Morris film.
My bike has been stolen.
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Day 2

Yesterday was Day 1 of Nanowrimo and I completed my 1667 word target for the day. Not saying the words were strung together in a particularly cohesive manner but thus far I'm on target. Hopefully I'll hit my Day 2 target but I need to get out of the apartment and head down to the library if I'm to stand any chance of success.

One of the problems with having a fair bit of time on my hands (coupled with access to an excellent public library) is that I get to read some marvellous books which is inspirational in some ways and intimidating in all others. If I was reading rubbish crime novels I would be able to adopt the 'I could do that'
attitude but having just read a novel by Jess Waters and currently reading Child 44 by Tim Rob Smith, interspersed with browsing through The Best American Nonrequired Reading 2010 I'm (a) intimidated, (b) disheartened but also (c) enjoying some excellent writing.

I can't do that.

I'm going to see Four Lions with a talk by Chris Morris (satirist) tonight which is quite exciting so I'd better get cracking.


Extract from - Best American First Lines of Poems Published In 2009




No one will read to the end of a poem about butterflies.
Butterflies -  Mike White


Best American Nonrequired Reading 2010.