Endless Knots

Before the Marathon

Snapped some quick pics this morning as Michelle left for the Marathon. She had choices for where to pick up the buses to get out to the race start in Hopkinton, MA, and finally decided to join the Mass State Police contingent, which left from the Boston Athletic Club headquarters in South Boston.

She made a wise choice. After leaving her, Michelle's hubby Bob and I drove around to Boston Common, another pick-up point. Where Michelle was able to board a luxury coach quickly, at the Common thousands, literally, thousands ringed the Common from Tremont Street, along Boylston, and all the way around Charles Street (Bostonians can appreciate how far this really is), waiting to get on school buses.

One interesting/baffling thing: We were there at 7:15, early, obviously, and it was more than evident that something really big was afoot. Cops everywhere, barricades, volunteers, and, as mentioned, dozens of school buses.

So the rest of us schmoes were just waiting to be waved on. Yet one driver after another seemed to feel that honking would help. No honking. Take a breath. It's a holiday. A little embarrassed for my tourist passenger to see how rude our local drivers can be. Enough grousing. On to the pictures!

Check out clock over Bob's head

 

Many very thin people waiting to board at BCA

 

The all-important amenity

 

The po-lice waiting to escort the buses

That's Michelle on the bus

Get thee to Red Lentil

Speaking of Watertown, eat at Red Lentil. Boston Phoenix: "By now everyone knows Red Lentil is dog-plays-the-piano good. It’s the best all-vegetarian and lots-vegan restaurant Boston has ever had." I agree.

Many very delicious things

 

What's wrong with this picture?

Do you see what I see?

Take a bow, Boston

Readers of The Boston Globe may not have noticed yesterday's astonishing headline on Page 1 of Metro, even though it occupied prime real estate: "Boston escapes '09 with no fire deaths." John R. Ellement did not bury the lead:

Last year, for the first time in at least 37 years, no one was killed by fire in Boston, a historic accomplishment for the Boston Fire Department whose leaders yesterday credited increased public awareness and “boots on the street’’ for the success.

Fire Commissioner Roderick Fraser said 2009 was the first time since at least 1972, when the Fire Department started keeping detailed information on fatalities, that no one lost their life in a fire-related incident in the city. “We think that’s fantastic,’’ he said.

We spent a number of years working with fire departments around the U.S., promoting fire prevention education (the same program that resulted in the famous Dick Van Dyke commercial memorable for its tag line, "Stop, drop, and roll"), a largely ignored field until the establishment of what's now called the U.S. Fire Administration. While things have improved quite a bit since we trudged around the country, interviewing fire safety officers in such far-flung places as Arlington Heights, Illinois, Riverside, Calif., and Dade County, Florida, the U.S. still has one of the highest fire death rates in the world.

Why? Because our fire safety focus remains on public buildings, not where we live. And devastating fires do happen, even to people who are extremely safety conscious and have the right equipment installed, viz., our close friends who watched as their house burned down recently, the fire likely caused by a wiring problem, while firefighters lost precious time looking for the fire hydrant, buried under snow.

Perhaps this was a fluke and city officials knew where every other hydrant was situated...not the point I'm trying to make. Just want to laud Boston firefighters and the residents of Boston for a year of no deaths from fire. Truly worthy of a very big headline. Meanwhile, check your smoke detectors, know where your closest hydrants are, and be sure you and everyone in your family knows how to get out of the house if you do have a fire. As our friends, whose equanimity in the face of having lost all their possessions is beyond inspiring, continue to remind those who console them, "It's just stuff." They were not harmed and their loss allows all who love them to give in myriad ways, which makes us all a little larger.

In defense of Margaret

Clip of review of Margaret Fuller's 1845 book, The Broadway Journal

Thanks to Princeton, Massachusetts, Town Moderator Harry Pape, I've learned that my letter to The Boston Globe, standing up for the reputation of Margaret Fuller, saw the light of print on Sun, Nov. 8. For reasons unknown to me, it doesn't seem to be online so I hereby offer it--and the original, a study in editing for those who like to learn about such things. Either way, I am very pleased that June Wulff, who writes and edits for The Globe, plucked mine from the slush.

As published, "Fuller in full," Boston Sunday Globe, Section N, P. 2, November 8, 2009:

Matthew Guerrieri Guerrieri identifies Margaret Fuller, the brilliant, widely published author from the 1840s, foreign correspondent for Horace Greeley's New York Tribune, editor of The Dial, the translator of Goethe, and author of "Woman in the Nineteenth Century," as the "sexy muse" of the Transcendentalists ("Beethoven's Early Believers," Arts & Entertainment, October 25). Trivialization hardly describes his dismal description. Fuller has been the subject of doctoral dissertations and biographies, has an academic society devoted to her, is taught as a major figure in American literature, and will be honored next year on her bicentennial. Sexy muse? In your dreams.

JESSICA LIPNACK
Co-chair, Margaret Fuller Bicenten-
nial Committee in New England
West Newton

As submitted:

To the editor:

No offense but is Matthew Guerrieri a bit of a "tool?" Fair's fair: In "Beethoven's Early Believers," October 25, 2009, Guerrieri identifies Margaret Fuller, the brilliant, most widely published author of the 1840s, the foreign correspondent for Horace Greeley's New York Tribune, the editor of The Dial, the translator of Goethe, and the author of Woman in the Nineteenth Century, along with many other books, as the "sexy muse" of the Transcendentalists.

Trivialization hardly describes his dismissal of the woman around whom intellectuals and artists of the 1830s and 1840s, both in the US and in Europe, revolved. Not to mention that Fuller has been the subject of numerous doctoral dissertations, has an academic society devoted to her, is taught as a major figure in American literature, and will be honored on her bicentennial next year, 2010.

Oh, I almost forgot. She did all of this without benefit of a long life (she only lived to forty), wrote entirely by hand (sorry, Mr. Guerrieri, unlike you, she didn't have a keyboard to make it go fast or the web to look up salient details), and spoke six languages.

Sexy muse? In your dreams.

Jessica Lipnack
Co-chair, Margaret Fuller Bicentennial Committee in New England, and author of The Persuasion, a novel about Fuller
West Newton, MA

Comfy chairs, wireless, and a harp

Maybe it's this way in all such places. I don't know. Like you, I'm sure, I try to avoid them.,  But every so often, someone we care about has a "meeting" in one of these places and there you are, waiting. Such was the case this morning when a relative had a rather long meeting with a machine made of magnets. Anticipating that the magnets might be running a bit late, I brought along my computer, thinking I could work while waiting, hoping that if the meeting went on too long, I would be able to find a plug.

To my delight, I found a place to sit, a very comfy chair with a coffee table in front, a light on the table behind. Ah-ha! There had to be a plug. A three-pronger, no less. I turned on my machine and ...! Wireless with a welcome notice, allowing me in as a guest, without even registering or providing my name. A good strong 5-bar signal at that.

I got to work, opening, storing, deleting, writing...and then and then...just behind me, the gentle plucking of strings. A harpist had come in, set up, not ten feet from me, all so quietly that I hadn't even noticed until she filled the lobby with a celestial serenade, the lobby, that is, of Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center in Boston.

Mirabile dictu: Phish phans @ Phenway

Fotos by Eliza Stamps

Given the large number of Phish fans (and the hilarity that sweeps the phamily recalling the time I repherred to the band as "The Phish") and given that one such phamily member* went to the concert, I must repher phans to Sarah Rodman's review, "Phish and fans come back together for a pledge of mutual allegiance," in today's Boston Globe. I love her lede (the word phormerly known as lead but somehow transmuted in recent years):

"The Star-Spangled Banner" felt like an appropriate opener for the Phish show at Fenway Park last night, as the members of the Vermont rock band reconvened with one another and their nation of fans to pledge allegiance to the jam.

If band members were seeking a good omen for this reunion, following a five-year hiatus, they had to look no farther than the sky. In the time it took them to get back from the rain-soaked infield - where they performed an intricate a cappella version of the anthem in Red Sox jerseys - to the stage for the start of the show proper, the sun had broken through and a rainbow appeared over the outfield.

 

View from pitcher's mound

*First-hand report of small miracles: due to phamily scheduling conphlicts, said member was phorced to take a taxi to the T into Boston in a horrible downpour. As she departed the cab, the taxi driver gave her an umbrella. Moments later, she emerged from the T to phind her concert-mate at the appointed spot. The rain stopped, the clouds parted, the sun emerged, and as they took their spots, centers seats on the phield, the rainbow appeared.

Go, e-Patient Dave!

Globe Staff Photo / Suzanne Kreiter--thanks!

He comments here on occasion and has made headlines of late when he discovered that his medical records contained, shall we say, a few inaccuracies when transferred to Google Health.

Today, e-Patient Dave, the person/blogger who passes in the real world as Dave deBronkart, is featured in Elizabeth Cooney's interview, "The excellent patient," in The Boston Globe (which, btw, continues to arrive in the driveway). Congrats, Dave, and thanks for all the good work you're doing on behalf of patients, reminding us all that our best advocates are ourselves.

Yesterday on the Charles

It's just another one of those phone pictures but...how beautiful, really, this remarkable river that runs through nearly two dozen Massachusetts towns before emptying into the Atlantic (bays and such in between). No matter how often I walk this route along the banks in Newton and just brushing Watertown, I'm always thrilled again to live so close to the river.

From Wikipedia for the nature lovers:

The Charles River is fed by about 80 brooks and streams and several major aquifers as it flows snakelike for 80 miles (129 km), starting at Echo Lake (42°11′35″N 71°30′43″W/42.193012°N 71.5119°W/42.193012; -71.5119) in Hopkinton, through 22 cities and towns in eastern Massachusetts before emptying into Boston Harbor. 33 lakes and ponds, and 35 communities are entirely or partially part of the Charles River watershed. Despite the river's length and relatively large drainage area (308 square miles; 798 km²), its source is only 26 miles (42 km) from its mouth, and the river drops only 350 feet (107 m) from source to sea. It is the most densely populated river basin in New England.

A little history on the Computer History Museum (and MassNet, RIP)

A comment today on another post by Harry Stevens prompts this post. Harry asks whether I've ever visited The Computer Museum in Boston and if so whether they would be interested in the donation of a server with his ground-breaking software, Participate, on it.

Long before most reading here were even thinking about email (or for that matter computers), Harry Stevens had developed Participate, computer conferencing software described below. Visionary and its basic design still underlies most really good discussion software.

Alas, The Computer Museum in Boston exists no more, having closed in 1996 (what does that say about our history), its collection now belonging to The Computer History Museum in Mountain View, California (i.e. Silicon Valley), which opened in its current location in 2002. Watch what's coming there: next year they're opening an exhibit called "Computer History: The First 2000 Years." Bold. I also will refrain from commenting on the endless rivalry between Silicon Valley and Boston's MIT/Route 128 cultures, evidenced by the museum ending up in "their" vicinity rather than ours. Harrumph.

Why am I writing this post really? Because for a few years before and after 1995, a group of us, including Jeff Stamps and me, volunteered to create a new initiative here in Boston that would engender the kind of collaborative culture that, for all its cutthroat competitiveness has characterized Silicon Valley: "MassNet: Collaboration for the Commonwealth," which leaves but this small trace on an MIT server.

On a cold January day in 1995, MassNet brought together 250 representatives of each of the area's major sectors--from business, education, the denominations, foundations, healthcare, government...you name it, they were there. Among the event's sponsors was The Computer Museum, then housed next to Boston's incomparable Children's Museum right along Fort Point Channel, which provided the space for the event. (John Marchiony was then executive director of the museum--forever thanks, John).

When not talking about collaboration and how to forge strong links across the notoriously non-collaborative sectors in the area, participants wandered around looking at the first 1000 years of computer history. It was a beautiful space to hold this event and the cast of presenters and participants was stellar.

Among those who spoke: Congressman Ed Markey, an early visionary about telecommunications, Rosabeth Moss Kanter, the Harvard Business School prof and author who has written often about collaboration, Peter Drucker, yes, *the* Peter Drucker, who participated via videoconference from his home in Southern California, Drucker's grandson, Nova Spivack, late of Twine, Harry Saal, then CEO of Smart Valley, an initiative in Silicon Valley to wire the area (the digital divide was then the major topic among computer aficiandoes), Charlotte Kahn, who leads the Boston Indicators Project at the The Boston Foundation (and was my high school classmate), and others, including, need I say, moi. David Straus, founder of Interaction Associates, led the band of facilitators who conducted the breakout groups.

I could go on with all who participated and how ambitious our agenda was. Like so many great ideas, MassNet ran its course then died, having left a lot of people educated about the value of collaboration.

One last bit of personal history: Jeff's and my book, The Age of the Network, had its launch that night, also at The Computer Museum, where our publisher, Darryl Landvater of Oliver Wight, and our editor, Jim Childs, now publisher at Time Inc., hosted a book party

So, thanks, Harry, for giving me the opening to write about MassNet and...try The Computer History Museum. If they're not interested in a server loaded with Participate, they should be.