Category Archives: Massachusetts

March in New England

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The Month New Englanders break from Winter into Spring Chaos

March Madness, Spring Fever, and the Cats Who Run This House

March in New England is a strange, wonderful, chaotic time. One minute we’re shoveling snow, the next minute we’re celebrating the first day of spring, and somewhere in between, the entire region collectively loses its mind over March Madness.

Yes, I knew it was a big deal.
Yes, I knew it involved basketball.
But I didn’t realize just how seriously New Englanders take it until I saw a news story about companies setting up break‑room watch parties on company time.

Excuse me… what
People get paid to watch college basketball at work
Only in New England.

So What Is March Madness

For anyone else who’s been living under a cozy blanket with a box of tissues (hi, it’s me), here’s the quick version:

  • It’s the NCAA Division I men’s college basketball tournament
  • 68 college teams from all across the United States
  • Single elimination — lose once and you’re out
  • It runs from mid‑March to early April
  • It’s one of the biggest sporting events in the country

It’s not a New England invention, but you wouldn’t know that from the way we treat it. Between UConn fans, bracket pools, and the general “we survived winter, let’s celebrate something” energy, March Madness might as well be our unofficial regional holiday.

Meanwhile, Spring Sneaks In Early

I always think of spring arriving on March 21, but this year the equinox showed up on March 20, probably because even the universe is tired of winter and wants to get things moving.

New England, of course, will respond by giving us:

  • one warm day
  • one cold day
  • one rainstorm
  • and a surprise snow squall just to keep us humble

Yes it's March in New England if its not mud its still snow.

But on the calendar at least, spring is here.

Balboa: The Fastest Paw in the East

While all this seasonal excitement is happening, Balboa has declared war on my last surviving computer mouse. He’s the Fastest Paw in the East, and he takes that title seriously.

Today’s crime
I dared to vacuum during his nap.

He stomped out of the room like a tiny, offended emperor, tail flicking dramatically. I had to issue a formal apology in the form of treats. He accepted, but only after giving me the look — the one that says:

“You may continue living here, hooman, but your behavior will be monitored.”

Now he’s back on the desk, supervising this post and occasionally taking swipes at the mouse like he’s auditioning for a martial arts film.

Banner and the Case of the Missing Hair Band

While Balboa is busy waging war on technology, Banner has discovered a new hobby: elastic hair bands.

During a recent bathroom decluttering session, I found an old stash of them.
Banner thought he had won the lottery.

He carried one around the apartment, talking to it like it was his long‑lost friend. Then he took it into the bathtub — his personal gladiator arena — and tossed it around like he was training for the Hair Band Olympics.

And then… it vanished.

I looked everywhere.
Under furniture.
Behind furniture.
Inside the furniture.
Nothing.

The only conclusion I can come to is that once he finished playing with it, he ate it like a tasty little spaghetti noodle.

So that’s it.
No more hair elastics for Banner.
He cannot be trusted with them.
He has lost his hair‑band privileges indefinitely.

March in New England: A Summary

  • Basketball fans are losing their minds
  • Companies are letting employees watch games at work
  • Spring is arriving early
  • My nose is running a marathon
  • Balboa is plotting the downfall of all computer mice
  • Banner is eating hair accessories like snacks

Honestly, it feels about right.

Spring in New England

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Ah Spring: A Season That Arrives When It Feels Like It

Daffodils are a sure sign spring is upon us

A Poem From the Past

Every now and then, a memory from childhood pops up and refuses to leave. Recently, I found myself thinking about a play we did in school — a bunch of hillbillies, a lot of flannel, and one truly unforgettable poem. It went something like this:

Spring has sprung,  
The skunks air out.  
Spring has sprung — just sniff about.  
Mating time is drawing near,  
You can smell it in the air.

Not exactly Shakespeare, but it captured something very real about spring in New England: you don’t need a calendar to tell you it’s coming. Your nose will do the job just fine.

The Calendar Says Spring… But New England Has Other Plans

Technically — officially — scientifically — spring begins on March 20 this year. The equinox arrives, the sun crosses the celestial equator, and somewhere far away, flowers bloom on cue.

But here in New England?
We don’t buy it.

Around here, spring doesn’t start when the calendar says so. Spring starts when the Red Sox take the field at Fenway Park. That’s the moment the region collectively thaws, stretches, and decides maybe — just maybe — winter is finally loosening its grip.

And since Opening Day at Fenway is April 3 this year, I guess true spring will be running a little late. Again.

Local Wildlife Confirms the Delay

If you need further proof, just ask the skunks. They’ve already begun their annual “perfume tour,” leaving unmistakable reminders that love is in the air — whether we want it or not. Nothing says spring quite like cracking open a window for fresh air and immediately regretting it.

Even the Cats Know Spring Is a Moving Target

Banner and Balboa have their own opinions about the season. Banner has already begun his warm‑weather routine of turning on lights with his teeth — a helpful service at 3 a.m., apparently. Balboa, meanwhile, has resumed his post by the sliding door, watching for birds, squirrels, and anything else that might signal the world is waking up.

They’re not convinced it’s spring yet either. And honestly? I trust their instincts more than the meteorologists.

Spring Will Get Here… Eventually

So while the rest of the country celebrates the equinox, we’ll be here in New England waiting for the crack of the bat, the roar of Fenway, and that first warm day that doesn’t immediately get followed by a frost warning.

Spring comes late here.
But when it finally arrives, it’s worth the wait.

 

Plymouth Rock: The Legend, the Letdown, and the Lovely Town Around It

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The Most Overrated Tourist Attractions? Let’s Talk About Plymouth Rock

So I saw another list, but we’re not going to dig through it all. I’m just going to pick and choose a few choice comments. The list was The U.S. Tourist Attractions That People Regret Visiting the Most. As a travel enthusiast, I felt it was my duty to share a few of my thoughts.

Since I’m in Massachusetts and only a couple of towns over from Plymouth, I thought I’d chat about Plymouth Rock.

What was on the list? Well, without taking the time to bore you with details, here’s the lineup:

  1. Times Square, NYC, New York
  2. Skywalk, Grand Canyon, Arizona
  3. SeaWorld, Orlando, Florida
  4. Salem Witch Museum, Salem, Massachusetts
  5. Hollywood Walk of Fame, Los Angeles, California
  6. Broadway, Nashville, Tennessee
  7. Duval Street, Key West, Florida
  8. Pat’s King of Steaks, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
  9. Roswell, New Mexico
  10. Ocean City Boardwalk, Ocean City, Maryland
  11. Mystery Spot, St. Ignace, Michigan
  12. Plymouth Rock, Plymouth Harbor, Massachusetts
  13. Navy Pier, Chicago, Illinois
  14. Calico Ghost Town, San Bernardino County, California
  15. World of Coca-Cola, Atlanta, Georgia
  16. Fisherman’s Wharf, San Francisco, California

So now you have the whole list—let me talk about Plymouth Rock.

Plymouth Rock: The Legend, the Letdown, and the Lovely Town Around It

As a kid, the idea of Plymouth Rock is irresistible. It’s practically mythological—the rock where the Pilgrims supposedly stepped ashore in 1620. You picture something massive, dramatic, maybe glowing with historical importance. At the very least, something you could stub your toe on.

Then you finally go see it and… well… it’s a medium-sized rock in a granite gazebo, sitting behind iron bars like it’s in time-out. You stand there thinking, This? This is the rock? And yet, thousands of people come every year to have the same moment of quiet confusion.

But here’s the twist: the story behind the rock is far more interesting than the rock itself. And Plymouth—thankfully—is full of genuinely lovely places that make the trip worthwhile.

The Real Story Behind the Rock (Which Is Better Than the Rock)

  • No Pilgrim ever mentioned a rock. Not in 1620, not in 1621, not ever. The first written reference appears more than a century later.
  • The legend began in 1741, when an elderly church elder insisted he remembered hearing from earlier generations that this was the landing spot.
  • The rock has been moved several times, and each move made things worse:
    • 1774: Townspeople tried to relocate it and accidentally split it in half.
    • 1834: The top half was hauled to the town square for display.
    • 1880: The halves were reunited at the waterfront, but not quite perfectly—hence the famous crack.
  • The “1620” carving? Added in the 1800s, long after the Pilgrims were gone.

So the rock you see today is more of a symbol than an artifact. And symbols can be powerful… even if they’re smaller than expected.

What Makes Plymouth Worth the Trip

Plymouth itself is charming, historic, and absolutely worth a visit—even if the rock leaves you shrugging.

  • Brewster Gardens — A pretty little park right off the waterfront with footbridges, flowers, and shady paths. It’s the kind of place you wander into and think, “Oh, this is lovely.”
  • The Massasoit Statue — Overlooking the harbor, honoring the Wampanoag leader who forged a peace treaty with the Pilgrims. The view from up there is one of the best in town.
  • The Mayflower II — A full-scale reproduction of the original ship. It’s surprisingly immersive, and the interpreters do a fantastic job bringing 1620 to life.
  • Plimoth Patuxet Museums — If you want the real, nuanced history—not the postcard version—this is where it lives.

Plymouth isn’t overrated. Historic Plymouth Rock is.

And Now for Something Actually Exciting: Captain John Boats

Once you’ve stared at the rock for the obligatory 30 seconds, you’re only steps away from one of the best things Plymouth has to offer: Captain John’s whale watches.

For nearly 50 years, these trips have been part of my life—breaching humpbacks, sea spray, the thrill of spotting that first tail flick. It’s the perfect contrast to the stillness of the Rock. If Plymouth Rock leaves you wanting more, Captain John’s will give you a show the Pilgrims never dreamed of.

Wrapping It Up

So yes—Plymouth Rock may be one of the most overrated attractions in America, but Plymouth itself is a gem. It’s a place where history, beauty, and the Atlantic all meet. Go for the Rock if you must… but stay for everything else. And if you time it right, you might just end your day with a whale tail against the horizon.

Breaching Whale

 

Back to Boston, Baby

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Vikings, Chowda, and Josh Gates’ Wild New England Detour

Writing about Boston’s quirks and accents made me think of an episode of Expedition Unknown with host Josh Gates, a Massachusetts native son. The episode I’m thinking of—“Viking Secrets” (Season 4, Episode 1), which originally aired in December 2017—was packed with Boston jokes and New England flavor. One bit in particular, a hilarious monologue Josh delivered about coming home to Boston, aired once or twice and then vanished from later edits.

I don’t remember every word after all these years, but the spirit of it stuck with me. What follows isn’t a transcript — it’s my best memory of the tone, the rhythm, and the jokes he tossed out in that moment.

🦞 “I’m headin’ to Boston, baby—my home town.”

Josh delivered that line with the kind of grin only a true Boston kid can pull off. And then he launched into a hometown riff that hit every note:

“I’m headin’ to Boston, baby — my home town.
Nothin’ like comin’ back to a place where you can walk down the street wearin’ a giant foam lobstah hat and nobody bats an eye. Half the time someone’ll stop ya just to ask if the packie had ’em on sale.

And the sports, my God. You step off the plane at Logan and within five minutes you’ve got two guys in Brady and Ortiz jerseys arguin’ about which championship parade had bettah weathah.

The seafood? Forget it. You can’t throw a rock without hittin’ a place claimin’ they’ve got the best chowda in New England. And honestly? They’re not wrong.

But the real sign you’re home? Dunkin’. There’s one on every cornah, like they’re multiplyin’. You leave for five minutes and suddenly there’s a new one across from the old one, just in case you needed backup.

So yeah — Vikings, longships, ancient mysteries… but first I’m grabbin’ an iced regulah and maybe swingin’ by Kowloon. You can’t staht an expedition on an empty stomach.”

It was Boston in a nutshell—accent, attitude, seafood, sports, and caffeine. And then, as quickly as it appeared, the riff disappeared from later versions of the episode. Lost media, Boston edition.

🌳 Comm Ave, Memory Lane, and the Boston That Stays With You

Hearing Josh talk about coming home made me think about my own Boston moments. Walking down

Swan boats in the public garden boston

two Swan Boats 2017

Comm Ave in the fall, leaves crunching underfoot. The Public Garden swan boats. The way the city glows at dusk, all brownstones and lamplight. The stubborn pride that makes Bostonians argue about everything from sports stats to the correct way to pronounce “car.”

(For the record: cah.)

Boston isn’t just a place—it’s a personality. And Josh taps into that every time he comes back.

Is it a Viking tower or a windmill🏰 From Chowda to the Newport Tower: New England Mysteries

Once Josh finished his iced regulah, he headed south to Rhode Island to investigate the Newport Tower—one of New England’s most persistent historical head‑scratchers.

 

 

Is it:

  • A colonial windmill?
  • A Viking structure?
  • A Portuguese relic?
  • A medieval tower built by someone who got very lost?

Depends on who you ask.

Josh did what Josh does best: climbed it, measured it, poked it, and interviewed everyone from historians to enthusiastic theorists. The result? A delightful blend of science, speculation, and “well, it could be Vikings… maybe.”

🦈 Nomans Land: Where Josh Gates Nearly Becomes Shark Chowda

But nothing—and I mean nothing—beats the segment where Josh heads to Nomans Land, the forbidden island off Martha’s Vineyard.

This place has:

  • Rough seas
  • Unexploded WWII bombs
  • Restricted access
  • A coastline patrolled by great white sharks

Naturally, Josh decides this is the perfect place to investigate Viking legends.

Watching him bounce around on a boat in choppy water while the captain casually mentions, “Oh yeah, this whole area is full of unexploded ordnance,” is peak Expedition Unknown. Add in the sharks circling like they’re waiting for him to drop a snack, and it becomes comedy gold.

I laughed out loud then, and I still do now. Only Josh could turn “bombs and sharks” into a charming travelogue.

⚓ Why This Episode Feels So Boston

It’s not just the accent or the Dunkin’ jokes. It’s the spirit of the thing.

Boston—and New England in general—is a place where:

  • History is always underfoot
  • Mystery is always around the corner
  • The ocean is always waiting to surprise you
  • And the locals are always ready to argue about something

Josh captured that perfectly. Even when the intro got cut, the episode still carries that unmistakable New England energy: a mix of curiosity, grit, humor, and “yeah, we’ll go check out the island full of bombs, why not?”

📝 Closing Thoughts

Revisiting this episode reminded me why I love Boston—and why Josh Gates remains one of my favorite storytellers. He gets it. He gets us. Josh knows that New England isn’t just a backdrop; it’s a character.

And even if that original Boston riff is lost to the editing room floor, it lives on in the hearts of those of us who heard it the first time and thought:

“Yep. That’s home.”

Boston Slang: A Survival Guide for Anyone Visiting the Hub

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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.