What's happening to my Downtown Crossing?

(images courtesy of Clueless in Boston)

What's happening to my Downtown Crossing?

They're tearing down Filene's. It's almost gone. It's like a mini ground zero. That's okay. Cities change. Department stores change hands. Sports arenas change names for The Gardens to TD North. (But the Gardens still sounds so much better.)

Now, a NYC firm is proposing a $200 million project catty-corner to the old Filene's site. Two hundred luxury apartments and three floors of retail space on the corner of Bromfield and Washington.

Frankly, the building they want to tear down is pretty groady. Aesthetically, it's the pits. But there are some really pretty old buildings on DTX, and I hope the long range plan for the street isn't to either tear them down or even do what seems to be the trend here in Boston: Keep the old facade and build a glass tower behind it with condos and offices and high-end stores that no one --meaning regular old working folks like me--can afford. Or else they just pile red bricks to the sky to make it fit in with the rest of the city.

DTX is such a gem. It's one of the only places in Boston (along with the subway) that's actually integrated and people are walking around. Every color skin, every language can be heard out there. Otherwise, in Boston, whites hang out in certain places, and "people of color" frequent other places. There are still carts out there that sell everything from hot dogs to shish kabob, and belts and scarves. Yeah, there's a Starbucks out there, but there's also an Army/Navy store and a FYE music store. While the developers are coming in from NYC and every other point on the compass, it would be nice if someone tried to turn DTX into a neighborhood with it's own flavor like the South End, JP, or Beacon Hill.

The great thing about Boston is it's manageable. On a nice day you can walk pretty much the length of the downtown area without resorting to cabs and the subway. And it's an enjoyable walk with lots to look at. You don't get the feeling your walking in steel and glass canyons.

Truth in Advertising

There's a panhandler out on Downtown Crossing today.

His sign says,

Why lie?
I need a beer.

The last I saw, some tourists were taking their picture with him. Maybe he's on to something...

Downtown Crossing Christian pains-in-the-you-know-what

Sunday brings on daylight savings time. It's March, and in New England there still should be snow on the ground, but I walked around Downtown Crossing today with my coat open.

And a sure sign of spring coming is those loony Christians with their sketch pads on Downtown Crossing. I guess they figured out what other communicators figured out a long time ago: Use pictures and you'll increase readership/viewership substantially. I guess people are so used to staring at the television that if someone stands there and hollers out inanities but is drawing pictures at the same time people actually will stop.

And again, I asked the question: Would someone please explain to me why I have to be subjected to that during the one short time in my day when I'm looking just for some peace? It's their first amendment rights? Uh, do I have any rights?

I have to say, raised a Catholic, I gave up on Jesus and all that a while ago. There ain't no heaven, and there ain't no hell. I think the bible is a wonderful book. I haven't read the entire thing, but enough of it. I think there are great stories in there on how to live your life right. And I think Jesus was a great man. He brought love and kindness to a world when it didn't exist before. He realized that we need love and kindness for our own survival. It was couched in spiritual survival, but as a species that is not only capable but seems hell-bent on killing ourselves, emotions like love and kindness and sympathy and forgiveness--all the things that Jesus preached we should have--keep the species alive.

But I think however the world is made up, I think it's a lot closer to the Einsteinian universe consisting of multiple and parallel universes, where we repeat our lives over and over again.

I think the universe as described by Christians dumbs down something as great as a Creator and the universe. It makes it so they, the dumb nuts standing out on Downtown Crossing, can understand it.

Winter's coming; take a walk

Winter and cold will soon be here. It's the thing about fall that makes me kind of blue. While the days are so gorgeous here in New England, and nature is pulling out all the stops like the horse smelling the barn, I still can't help but think of the dark and cold and wet that soon will be here for so long.

I hate to use the word bittersweet because it's so overused and so cliche and sappy, but that's a bit what it's like. I, like I'm assuming many people, can hold and feel two opposing emotions like joy and despair at the same time. Weird, and it makes for some interesting and frustrating interplay with some people, mostly those who are concrete with their feet planted firmly on the ground. Serious types who insist on the world being black and white.

So...on my commute I've been getting off the train at Back Bay and taking the Orange Line to Chinatown, one stop before Downtown Crossing where this winter I'll be able to get off and keep dry by ducking under overhangs on the short walk to the office. Now, I stroll up Washington Street while I can still enjoy the nice weather.

Downtown Crossing/Washington Street is still vibrant, despite the construction on the Filene's Building that caused all of those vendors to vacate. At that hour workers and street people co-mingle. The constant flow of people delights me. An Asian nun gives way to a heavy-set woman with a small tattoo on her jiggling bosom. Another heavy-set woman pushes a stroller with one hand and walks a small chew-toy dog with the other. It's getting late in the season, but two tourists orient themselves to that standard map the info centers hand out. Rounding the corner of the Filene's Building, I almost run smack into one of those bicycle-riding Boston cops. I try a smile but his work is grim and serious; he wants no part of it.

Screaming evangelists are okay??

Okay, let me get this straight, an evangelist wearing a sandwich board and screaming at the top of his lungs about the bible and salvation and all that is okay, right in the middle of a beautiful day on Downtown Crossing? I mean, it's okay for him to ruin my attempt to get away from the drudgery of the office and get some time to myself?

He's allowed to that?

Why?

A change of pace

The day is gorgeous and although I was running behind this morning thanks again to the commuter running about fifteen minutes late, I decided to get off one stop early, at Chinatown, to stretch my legs.

Walking up Washington Street towards Downtown Crossing, I was pulled along by the city's energy, and today Boston gave up all the reasons why I love this city. It can be cold, oh so cold and I'm not just talking about the winters. People here can be so rude and opportunity slim.

This little part of Boston is where the real Bostonians live their lives. Not the white Brahmans, the Yankees with the bow ties that people associate with Boston, but African-Americans, Latinos, Asians, white working stiffs, of which I count myself as one. A pair of cops walking their beat, a couple of blue-collars unloading their truck. The old Paramount, getting refitted and she's already looking so proud. Shop carts were opening up, another day and another day survived against urban revival, renewal, gentrification...everyone has a different name for it depending on how much money they have in their pocket. Some of the homeless were still curled up under grey moving blankets. I noticed two spooning, just like Sue and I do. And just the ordinary people, again, one of whom I count myself among, filling in the blanks.

Lyrics and images and stories popped into my head. Life, maybe not the way some or even most don't want to live it but there's no denying it, is out on the streets.

Protect Downtown Crossing

Downtown Crossing is a Boston treasure. It’s probably the only really integrated part of Boston. It’s our Times Square, the perfect place for people watching. Urban living to the max. Instead of trying to relocate vendors to Government Center, where no one goes and where these vendors’ livelihood will just wither, during the construction project on the Filene’s building the Downtown Crossing Association should increase the number of licenses to keep people coming. Bring on more street musicians and more ethnic food.

Downtown Crossing Apostles

If you’ve spent any amount of time at Downtown Crossing this summer, you’ve seen the guys—I haven’t seen any women—with the easels, paintbrushes, and the charming, entertaining patter. They start off by inquiring if their audience members are as smart as a fifth grader—a funny, engaging little hook. Then they do a sleight of hand with some numbers, sketching out answers with glib brushstrokes. All a bit of Faneuil Hall busking, it seems. A co-worker clued me in, though, that they are really Christians out to save souls, so I’ve always given them a wide circuit. Today, though, I listened. I feel that you have to listen to the right as much as the left, the Christian equally as the atheist.

But while I was standing there taking in their pitch, and sorry, it’s same old song and dance about redemption, a man standing next to me asked me what I thought of the presentation. Not to be fooled, I asked him what he thought of it. He said he thought it was interesting. “Are you connected to it?" I asked him, figuring he was a plant in the audience and I was correct. He asked me a number of questions, and I was willing to engage him, including telling him I have no idea what would happen to me if I died today.

I think anyone who reduces this life or the Creator to a simple question of right or wrong, who believes the world was built in seven days is denying the Creator’s greatness. To reduce the universe to terms that a common person can understand is reducing creation’s beauty. There is nothing wrong with saying, “We don’t understand.” Sometimes ours is just to marvel.

I try to be the very best person I can be. I think the truth is that everyone is trying the very best they can, some doing better than others. The truth is, I’m only human, something I’ve tried to explain to certain special people over the course of my life with greater or lesser success. I have flaws—lots of flaws—along with some good points. Every day I try to do something good for myself, for someone else, and for the world at large. It’s not easy. Sometimes I can do all three; sometimes not. Blogging, if you can believe it, is my way of giving back to the world. To share my experience of this reality we call life to others so maybe someone might not feel so alone. But the upshot is my redemption and spirituality is none of his or anyone else’s business, that it’s between me and my Maker, whoever or whatever that might be. To think otherwise is terribly presumptuous of these people.

Nasty music on Downtown Crossing

Some guy wearing a Quest Diagnostics polo shirt was playing a keyboard today out on Downtown Crossing. Horrible crap. Just screeching elevator music.

I looked in his case and there were a few coins. I wish someone rich would come along and throw in a hundred bucks if he'd stop.

I noticed Jenn Taranto is playing someplace in Newton Highlands tonight, and thought she might be out there today, since it seems like she plays there when she's up in this area. I hope she wasn't pushed out of her spot by this dope.

Lucinda moves up in the world

Was in Borders at Downtown Crossing checking out some Wilco CDs and noticed Lucinda William's CD was on a special rack out in the aisle but she was near the bottom.

I looked both ways then moved her up to eye level.

The peeps need to know about her.

Shhhh....artist at work

Today out in Downtown Crossing I noticed some old Leica's hanging around an older man's neck. The thought went through my head that he was probably a tourist, and got out his old tried and true flim cameras to record his vacation. Nothing digital for this purist. He had a flash connected to one of the cameras with a long sync cord, too.

Then, without focusing, he lunged at a passerby, the flash firing, like a lizard goes for a fly. He was working...making images...

I watched for a little while longer, as he stalked his quarry, not sure if I was watching a crackpot or a genius...

And funny, everyone around him was as complacent as bugs on a bush...not knowing they might end up in some developing tray somewhere.

Biggie Rat on Washington Street/Downtown Crossing

Was sitting over on Washington Street around noon today. I like to just sit and people watch. Some other guy who was sitting there around those statues of the Irish immigrants just kept talking to me. Straight out of a David Mamet play. The guy was definitely on to something. Or doing something. He was whittling. A letter opener, he said, for a friend. Who the hell uses letter openers? And was he hell-bent on getting me to talk.

"You're not from Boston, are you?" he asked, pointing to my boots. Let's call him, Biggie Rat.
"Yeah," I answered.
"You don't see many boots like that," Biggie Rat said.

Stuff like that.

Then...some other definitely twisted individual came up. Long hair, bad teeth, cheap cologne, talking, talking, talking. Dude, what have you been popping, snorting, sniffing, shooting?

I'm actually enjoying myself by now.

They were talkng about raising kids. Sheesh, what poor child gets raised by these two? I'd rather be raised by wolves. It started with the gum. Hippie offered Biggie Rat some gum. They did a thing about how gum isn't what it used to be, which led to kids eating sweets, which lead Biggie Rat to talk about how "they" don't allow his daughter to have sweets at home which led to Hippie talking about his nephew who is fat because his brother and his wife would keep sweets away from him.

"I saw it coming," he said, grinning, showing his gross teeth.

Then...Hippie noticed some guy. He had just been killing time. Got real serious. Biggie Rat and Hippie quickly palaver, quietly, to the side. Hippie goes up to what looked like a homeless person. I turned around again and they were both gone.

A few more minutes, and Biggie Rat suddenly stood up. "Oh shit, I have to be somewhere in a half hour," he said.

"What did you say your name was?" he asked.

I didn't.

"I'm Mark," Biggie Rat said, offering his hand.

"John," and off he went, crossing to the street into the subway. I checked my wallet and watch.