In light of the recent Boston Marathon bombings I felt like
writing a little about this city to which I’ve come to adore so much over the
years. This is not a rant; I don’t have the chops to wax political and do justice
to my point of view. Besides, by now there has been plenty said about how
senselessly cowardice the act of bombing innocent people is. This is more of a
personal homage to Boston and why these recent events hit a little closer for
me.
Nearly everyone that knows me knows that my favorite band is
Buffalo Tom. I’ve made a trip almost every year, since the late nineties, from
wherever I was living at the time, to Boston to see them play. To this day they
remain the only band that I will plan a trip around going to see.
They were the catalyst to a period of musical enlightenment
for me that turned me on to other Boston area bands like Dinosaur, Jr., Mission of
Burma, The Pixies, and The Lemonheads. Sure I listened to other bands from
other places but in the 90’s the Boston music scene was the epicenter for the
songs that I would carry around with me for the rest of my life. They were the
songs that hit me at the right place and at the right time and are the songs
that instantly conjure up a warm sense of nostalgia in me on the random chance
that one would pop up on my iPod’s shuffle play.
So when the Boston Marathon bombing occurred this week I was
instantly horrified, then angered, and then saddened. It was different for me
this time, different from what happened in London in 2005 and different from
what happens on a seemingly weekly basis in the Middle East. This time I have
an intimate connection to the city. I’ve been to Copley Square and I’ve walked
the streets of downtown Boston enough to feel comfortable getting around. I
also have friends living in and around the city. With every landmark mentioned
on the nightly news I could instantly recall an image in my head and say to
myself “I’ve been there, I know exactly where that is.” This time it’s
different for me.
You don’t need to be from Boston to know that its people are
proud of their city and that they have an unrivaled affection for it that runs
deep, deeper than most. You don’t need to tell Bostonians to “keep their chin
up” or to “stand tall”. They’ve never stopped. As I'm writing this, the sadness I was feeling when I started has shifted to a sense of pride. I'm proud that as an American we have a city of this caliber that belongs to us. And I'm proud of the fact that an attack like this will only bring us closer together as a nation.
I have a trip planned to Boston next month to see well, you’ve
probably guessed it, Buffalo Tom. But to also take some time to reflect on what
Boston means to me and who we are as the human race and what we mean to each
other.
Buffalo Tom - I'm Allowed (Live from Barcelona - Primavera Sound 2008)
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