Category Archives: Boston

Boston Slang: A Survival Guide for Anyone Visiting the Hub

Posted on by

 

Boston has its own rhythm, its own attitude, and absolutely its own vocabulary. After fifty years in New England, I’ve learned that half the fun of living here is listening to the way people talk—and the other half is watching tourists try to decode it. So if you’re planning a trip to the Hub, or you’ve ever wondered why a Bostonian told you to “bang a U‑ey” near the “packie,” this one’s for you.

🗣️ Everyday Bostonisms

Boston slang isn’t just words—it’s a whole personality. These are the phrases you’ll hear before you’ve even finished your first Dunkin’ coffee.

  • Wicked — the Swiss Army knife of intensifiers. Wicked cold, wicked good, wicked late.
  • Bang a U‑ey — make a U‑turn, usually in a place that does not officially allow U‑turns.
  • Clicker — the TV remote.
  • Packie — the liquor store, not a package drop-off.
  • The T — the subway system, even though half of it is buses.
  • Kid — a friendly greeting, even if the person is 47 and wearing a suit.

Boston English is less about grammar and more about attitude. If it sounds like it should be shouted across a parking lot, it probably is.

🚗 Driving & Directions

Boston driving is a sport, a tradition, and occasionally a test of faith. The slang reflects that.

  • Storrowed — when a truck hits a low bridge on Storrow Drive. Happens every September like clockwork.
  • The Pike — the Massachusetts Turnpike.
  • Southie, Dot, Eastie — South Boston, Dorchester, East Boston.
  • The Big Dig — the tunnel project we’re still complaining about twenty years later.

If you can navigate Boston without GPS, congratulations—you’re officially a local.

🍽️ Food & Drink Terms

Boston’s food vocabulary is its own little universe.

  • Frappes — milkshakes with ice cream.
  • Jimmies — chocolate sprinkles.
  • Hoodsie — those little ice cream cups with the wooden spoon.
  • Steamers — soft-shell clams.
  • Scrod — whatever white fish the restaurant has that day.

If you order a “milkshake” expecting ice cream, that’s on you. Boston warned you.

🧥 Weather & Clothing

The weather here has personality, so of course the language does too.

  • Nor’easter — a storm that shuts down everything except Dunkin’.
  • Tennis shoes — any athletic shoe, regardless of sport.
  • Mud season — the fifth New England season between winter and spring.

nor’ easter

If someone says “wicked windy,” just grab a jacket and don’t ask questions.

🏙️ Attitude & Local Flavor

This is where Boston really shines.

  • Pissa — amazing, awesome, top‑tier.
  • Smaht — smart, usually said sarcastically.
  • Skeevy — sketchy or gross.
  • No big whoop — not a big deal.

Boston slang is blunt, efficient, and usually delivered with a side of dry humor.

🧭 Place Names Tourists Always Butcher

If you can pronounce these correctly, you’ve earned honorary Boston status.

  • Worcester — WUSS‑tah
  • Gloucester — GLOSS‑tah
  • Peabody — PEE‑buh‑dee
  • Haverhill — HAY‑vrill
  • Leicester — LEST‑ah
  • Copley — COP‑lee
  • Faneuil — FAN‑yul

If you pronounce them phonetically, don’t worry—locals will correct you before you finish the word.

Final Thoughts

Boston slang is more than vocabulary—it’s a cultural handshake. It’s the sound of Red Line delays, Dunkin’ drive‑thrus, and neighbors yelling across triple‑deckers. It’s sharp, funny, and proudly unique, just like the city itself.

And if you ever get confused, just remember: when in doubt, it’s probably wicked something.

 

New England vs the World- a Linguistic Nightmare

Posted on by

 

New England Just Can’t Get With the Rest of the World

Or: Why Ordering a Simple Drink Can Feel Like a Pop Quiz

The Goulash That Started It All

A few days ago, I mentioned the great Massachusetts goulash mystery — how my simple mix of hamburger, tomatoes, and macaroni somehow shares a name with a paprika-heavy Hungarian stew, a baked casserole, and something called American Chop Suey. After fifty years in New England, you’d think I’d have the naming conventions down.

But no. Because if there’s one thing New England loves, it’s doing things its own way. And that includes what we call everyday foods and drinks.

Tonic, Soda, Pop… and Now “Soft Drink”

Ask for a soda in most of the country and you’ll get a Coke, a Pepsi, or whatever fizzy thing you’re after.

Ask for a tonic in New England and you might get a raised eyebrow — unless you’re talking to someone over 60, in which case they’ll hand you a Pepsi without blinking.

Meanwhile, pop is strictly a Midwest thing. If you say “pop” in Massachusetts, people will assume you’re talking about your father, not your beverage.

And then there’s soft drink, the polite, slightly formal cousin that sounds like it belongs in a 1950s diner or a doctor’s office. Technically it means any non‑alcoholic carbonated drink, but around here it’s more of a background character than a star.

So the full New England beverage glossary now looks like this:

  • Soda — the modern default
  • Tonic — the old-school Massachusetts classic
  • Soft drink — the formal, old-fashioned option
  • Pop — something your father is called, not something you drink

A newcomer doesn’t stand a chance.

The Frappe vs. Milkshake Debate (Now Featuring Smoothies)

This one still gets me.

In most of the country, a milkshake has ice cream. Thick, creamy, slurp-it-through-a-straw-if-you’re-lucky ice cream.

In New England?
Nope.

  • A milkshake is just flavored milk.
  • A frappe (pronounced frap, not frap-pay) is what the rest of the world calls a milkshake — because it actually has ice cream in it.
  • A smoothie is the healthy overachiever of the group — fruit, yogurt, ice, maybe spinach if you’re feeling virtuous. It sounds like it should be in the same category, but it absolutely is not.

So yes, you can order a chocolate milkshake here and get something the consistency of chocolate milk. And yes, it still surprises me.

The Grinder vs. Sub vs. Hoagie Situation

If you’re new to New England and someone offers you a grinder, don’t panic — it’s not a tool, it’s lunch.

  • Grinder — New England
  • Sub — Most of the U.S.
  • Hoagie — Philadelphia
  • Hero — New York

Same sandwich. Four names. Zero agreement.

Sneakers? Nope. We Wear “Tennis Shoes.”

Even if we haven’t touched a tennis court since the Nixon administration, New Englanders will still call all athletic shoes tennis shoes.

Running shoes, walking shoes, cross-trainers — doesn’t matter. They’re tennis shoes.

Rotaries, Not Roundabouts

Everywhere else: roundabout.
New England: rotary, and we drive through them like we’re trying to qualify for the Indy 500.

Tourists approach them with fear. Locals approach them with misplaced confidence. No one uses a blinker.

Wicked Good, Wicked Cold, Wicked Everything

“Wicked” is our universal intensifier.

  • Wicked cold
  • Wicked good
  • Wicked fast
  • Wicked expensive

It works for everything except actual wickedness.

Bubbler vs. Water Fountain

This one’s more Rhode Island and parts of Massachusetts, but it still counts.

A bubbler is a drinking fountain.
If you ask where the water fountain is, you’ll get directions.
If you ask where the bubbler is, you’ll get respect.

Jimmies vs. Sprinkles

Chocolate sprinkles?
In New England, they’re jimmies.

Rainbow sprinkles are still sprinkles, but chocolate ones get their own name. Why? No one knows. It just is.

Package Store vs. Liquor Store

If someone tells you they’re “running to the packie,” they’re not mailing a package — they’re buying wine.

A package store is a liquor store.
A packie run is a perfectly respectable Saturday errand.

Final Thoughts

New England is full of charm, contradictions, and linguistic curveballs. Whether it’s goulash that isn’t goulash, milkshakes that aren’t milkshakes, or rotaries that strike fear into the hearts of tourists, we like things the way we like them — even if the rest of the world disagrees.

The Storm That set the Record- You be the Judge

Posted on by | 2 Comments

 

❄️ When They Say the 2026 Storm Beat the Blizzard of ’78… I Have Thoughts

2026

Every time a big storm hits New England, the weather folks rush to compare it to the Blizzard of ’78. And this week, after the February 23, 2026 storm dumped heavy, wet snow across Massachusetts and Rhode Island, the headlines started again: “Bigger than ’78!”

Well, I was here for both. And I disagree.

Yes, this storm was a beast. Yes, it broke some snowfall records. But the Blizzard of ’78 wasn’t just a storm — it was a shutdown of daily life on a scale we haven’t seen since. And I’ve got the personal scars (and canceled vacation plans) to prove it.

Let’s take a walk down memory lane — snow boots optional.

🌨️ Snowfall: 2026 Wins in Spots, But ’78 Was No Slouch

2026

The 2026 storm dumped impressive totals, especially in Rhode Island. Some towns saw nearly 38 inches. But in Massachusetts, totals were all over the place — heavy, yes, but not historic everywhere.

’78, on the other hand, buried the region. Boston got over 27 inches, Providence nearly 29, and some areas topped 3 feet. It wasn’t just the amount — it was the way it fell: fast, relentless, and with hurricane‑force winds whipping it into drifts taller than cars.

💨 Wind & Duration: ’78 Was a Monster

The Blizzard of ’78 wasn’t just snow. It was a nor’easter that parked itself over New England and refused to leave. Winds hit 83 mph in Boston and stayed strong for hours. Coastal towns were hammered by storm surge for four high‑tide cycles.

Blizzard of 78

The 2026 storm had some impressive gusts — especially on the Cape — but it didn’t have the same destructive, drawn‑out punch.

Blizzard of 78

🌊 Coastal Flooding: No Contest

’78 flooded entire neighborhoods. Seawalls failed. Homes were destroyed. People had to be rescued by boat.

2026 brought coastal flooding, but nothing close to the devastation of ’78.

🚗 Travel: One Storm Stranded People for

Blizzard of 78- Rt 128

Days

Here’s where the difference becomes crystal clear.

In 1978, thousands of people were stranded on Route 128 for days. Not hours — days. Cars were abandoned. Roads were impassable. Emergency crews couldn’t get through. Forecasting wasn’t what it is today, so people were caught off guard.

In 2026, we had travel bans, flight cancellations, and a whole lot of “stay off the roads.” But people listened. And the roads were cleared in a reasonable amount of time.

✈️ My Personal ’78 Story: The Vacation That Wasn’t

In 1978, I was working as a property adjuster and had a vacation to Florida booked. My flight out of Logan was scheduled for the day the storm hit.

Here’s the kicker:
My flight ended up being the last plane to leave Logan before the airport shut down.

And I wasn’t on it.

My company canceled my vacation and made me stay in Boston “in case I was needed.” The irony? Once the storm hit, nobody could drive anywhere. The entire region was shut down. So I sat at home, watching the snow pile up, thinking, I could be on a beach right now.

Meanwhile, the folks who did get on that last flight were probably sipping something tropical while I was digging out my front door.

⚠️ Human Impact: ’78 Changed the Region

The Blizzard of ’78 caused around 100 deaths and hundreds of millions in damage (in 1978 dollars). It changed emergency planning, forecasting, and how New Englanders respond to storms.

The 2026 storm was serious — two deaths, widespread outages, and billions in economic impact — but it didn’t reshape the region the way ’78 did.

🧭 So Which Storm Was Worse?

If you’re measuring by snowfall alone, 2026 wins in a few places.
If you’re measuring by disruption, danger, and long‑term impact, ’78 still holds the crown.

And if you’re measuring by “storms that ruined Deborah’s Florida vacation,” well… ’78 wins that one by a mile.

🌟 Bottom Line

The February 2026 storm was big, messy, and memorable. But the Blizzard of ’78 was a once‑in‑a‑generation event that shut down New England and rewrote the rulebook.

Feb 24, 2026- the clean up

So when I hear people say this storm “beat” ’78, I can’t help but shake my head.
Some storms dump snow.
Some storms make history.

And some storms cancel your Florida vacation and don’t even let you work.

Were you here for both storms? Which one felt worse to you?

 

Ghosts in the Dutch Room

Posted on by

Ghosts in the Dutch Room: My Brush with the Gardner Museum’s Lost Masterpieces

When I first moved to Boston in the 1970s, the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum felt like a secret garden tucked behind Venetian walls.

Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum — Museum Review | Condé Nast ...

Stock photo

I wandered its hushed rooms, drawn to the Dutch Room’s moody elegance—dark wood, gilded frames, and masterpieces that seemed to whisper stories if you lingered long enough. I remember standing before Rembrandt’s Storm on the Sea of Galilee, mesmerized by the chaos of waves and the quiet terror on each painted face.

Stock photo

Vermeer’s The Concert glowed with intimacy, a trio of musicians caught mid-note. I didn’t know then that I was witnessing something that would vanish forever.

Stock photo

The Heist

On March 18, 1990, two men disguised as Boston police officers entered the museum and stole thirteen works of art worth over $500 million. They tied up the guards, spent 81 minutes plucking treasures from the walls, and disappeared into the night. No arrests. No recovered art. Just empty frames still hanging in place—silent tributes to what was lost.

Visiting the museum now feels like stepping into a mystery novel. The Dutch Room is quieter than ever, its emptiness louder than any alarm. The stolen paintings are gone, but their absence is palpable. I find myself staring at the vacant frames, remembering the brushstrokes that once lived there.

stock photo

If you’re planning a trip to Boston, don’t miss the chance to experience one of the art world’s most enduring mysteries. The Gardner isn’t just a museum—it’s a living crime scene, a place where beauty and intrigue collide. You’ll walk through rooms curated by Isabella herself, past lush courtyards and haunting gaps in the gallery walls. It’s history, heartbreak, and high drama all in one.

photo credit Deb Neumann

Banner and Balboa, my feline muses, seem intrigued by the mystery too—especially the idea of cat burglars. Maybe I’ll let them sniff around the Dutch Room in their dreams. After all, every good mystery needs a clever sidekick.

 

 

 

stock photo

Travel Tip:
If you’re planning a visit to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, aim for a weekday morning. The museum’s Venetian-style courtyard is especially tranquil when it’s less crowded, and the soft natural light spilling through the glass roof makes the perfect backdrop for reflection—or a moody Instagram moment. Don’t rush through the Dutch Room; linger by the empty frames and let the mystery settle in. And if you’re intrigued by the heist, consider watching the Netflix documentary This Is a Robbery before you go—it adds a thrilling layer to the experience.

 

The Five Frames Left Behind

stock photo

 

Still NO TP

Posted on by

The TP Shortage Continues

We’re now 3-4 weeks into the quarantine. You’d think the hoarders would have stocked up but toilet paper, facial tissues and other paper products continue to be in short supply. Bottled water is also in high demand. We can add banking to one of the new aggravations. I needed quarters to do my laundry. I always go to the bank on Saturday morning to get two rolls. When I arrived at the bank this Saturday only the ATM was open. The Lobby was closed and dark.  Cars were lined up at the drive through but you can’t get coins in the drive through. The weight will damage the money drawer.

Social Distancing taken a step too far?

While I pondered my options two young women drove up. They arrived in the same car and attempted to go to the ATM together. A bank employee rushed out to tell them only 1 person could be at the ATM at a time. The argument that they came and in the same car and that they were sisters fell on deaf ears. I know we’re all a bit paranoid these day but come on! If one sister had it the other would have been exposed in the car.  What happened to common sense? Anyway as the sister that was booted out complained to me I vented my frustration about the coins. My new friend perked up. Her sister had change and she couldn’t deposit it either. Maybe we could help each other out?

 

Looks Like  Drug Deal Going Down

About then her sister came out of the bank. We explained the situation and she said she had a ton of quarters. She immediately started counting out quarters. She had a baggie in the car so she dropped the change in that. In no time at all I had $20.00 in quarters in a plastic baggie. We all got a good laugh as we exchanged the money for the baggie. We looked like a drug deal going down in front of the bank! With lots of laughing and waving we parted ways. The day suddenly seemed brighter somehow. I guess we’ll all get through this somehow. We just need to keep a sense of humor.