So Here's The Thing...

On Monday, a day that generally celebrates people who inspire was ruined by someone who thought it would be a good idea to set off two bombs at the finish line of the Boston Marathon.  Truly, if you’ve never gone to watch the race, you’re missing out.  It is amazing.  Seeing thousands of people running – some to accomplish a goal, many to raise money and awareness for diseases, gives you a feeling of community, of flat-out awe, and a pride in your town that cannot be described in words, but is easy to see on the faces of the participants, the crowd, everyone coming to encourage one another.  It’s not a gift-giving holiday, it’s not commercial, it’s just awesome.  And now it’s been compromised.  But I promise, it won’t be ruined.  And here is why: People from Boston are crazy.

Crazy, you say?  How can you say that?  That sounds disrespectful and rude, but that’s not how I mean it, and if you’re from here or if you’ve been here you know exactly what I’m talking about.  Here’s the thing: there is nothing Boston does better than a comeback.  There has been some really nutty stuff that has happened here over the past, well four hundred years, and no matter what, we’ve turned it around and we’ve kicked ass.  We turned the Salem Witch Trials into an adorable little tourist trap, because, well, bygones, right?  Redcoats?  Please.  A colonial version of the Pink Hats you see at Fenway (and even they are fierce in their commitment to the Red Sox, even though they have no idea what a pop fly is.  And no, I don’t either, but are you honestly going to mess with me right now?  I’m six months pregnant, sick as a dog and I’d soon as sock you in the jaw as listen to your crap.).  We were the first to okay gay marriage because we all understand that everyone, no matter what your gender, has the right to be unhappy.  Because we are.  We’re a bunch of miserable f*cks who wouldn’t have it any other way.  Trust me. 

Boston is full of adults who still live at home, smoke cigarettes, and hate their jobs.  It’s freezing even though it’s SUPPOSED to be nice in March.  Traffic sucks.  We’re looking for someone to take it out on.  So whoever they are, wherever they are, if I didn’t hate them so much I’d feel sorry for them.  Because not only do we love a comeback, we hold a grudge.  If we fly into a rage remembering the fistfight we got into with that elderly bitch who took our parking space seventeen years ago, they don’t stand a chance.

By now, we’ve seen the footage and we’ve heard about the amazing things that people from all over the world have done to show their support and to honor those killed and wounded, and it’s astounding.  The grace by which the populace at large has made us all realize that whatever low-rent animal(s) did this are in the tiniest minority and that goodness is the rule, not the exception.  But it doesn’t change the fact that we’re mad as hell and we’re going to protect and fight for our family – and by that I mean our Boston family – and nobody is going to be able to change that.  Ever.