I have been struggling a little with how I feel about this. It's Patriots' Day here in MA, in celebration of the battles of Lexington and Concord, and while it is a state holiday, this is the first year I've actually had it off from work. This morning, I went outside and walked down the street and ran into a friendly guy on a horse, yelling about how the regulars should get ready, the British were coming. There were people on the street, laughing and taking pictures. Lots of kids staring up in awe. The police were there to help control traffic.
They jokingly call it Marathon Monday here, because it is the day of the marathon, and it feels like the whole city shuts down to celebrate it. It has other meanings too, and it wouldn't surprise me if some revolutionary fuckhead decided he wanted to make a point.
If you've been following me for a while, you know how much I love Boston. This cuts deep. I was in class on 9/11 when the planes hit. We watched the news on TV. When the bell rang between periods, I felt myself walking around in a haze, unsure of what to do. I feel a little like that now.
But you know, I'm okay. So far, my friends are okay. That's the best we can hope for, I guess.
ETA: Boston peeps, @boston_police has been updating regularly: https://twitter.com/Boston_Police Stay safe.
ETA2: The Boston Globe seems to be updating more regularly: https://twitter.com/BostonGlobe
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