s e v e n i s a j o u r n e y

Bill and Karl both have really neat places. Bill’s is a condo in a big four storey brick townhouse in South Boston. It was the old parlour, with a big curved bay window and proportions that are simultaeously graceful and imposing. It’s also got the original etched-glass pocket doors and has the most ridicoulously ornate crown molding. Bill’s taste in furnishings pulls it together — elegance without need for pretension; classy, yet comfortable. Karl’s apartment, by complete contrast, is in and old converted piano factory — all exposed brick and heavy, raw timber beams. Very artsy industrial funk.

After driving through some pretty hellacious downpours — including losing a couple hours in New York due to flooding-induced road closures — we staggered into Boston. Luckily, Stephen managed to rub two brain cells together and generate a spark of a memory of where Bill’s place is. Bill helped us get the car parked and then he and Karl took us out to one of the local jazz places for dinner. (This is one of those neighborhoods that started out very rich, then got very poor, and is now in the process of gentrifying. It was apparently *the* happening place in the heyday of Jazz.)

Donuts for breakfast. Mmmmm…. donuts.