The Third Decade

Holy Avocados?

Boston is probably the most Catholic city in the U.S. Most of my childhood friends and I were either raised Catholic or went to parochial school and there are still plenty of active parishes around. But today I saw something I've never seen before. While walking through the produce area of the South Bay Stop & Shop I saw a man in his late-30s to early-40s walk up to the avocados and make the sign of the Cross before picking one. I suppose that he could also practice Santeria or Candomble rather than traditional Catholicism; either way, I've never heard of or seen that particular observance before. Anyone have an idea what that's about?

Common Boston Weekend

I'm really digging Common Boston's programming for this weekend and wonder why there hasn't been more publicity for it. As part of Discover Roxbury, I attended our event: the Roxbury Churches, Mosques, and Synagogues trolley tour. Our event attracted a wider variety of people than I had seen before and took us into to religious institutions normally tucked away or overlooked. We visited Masjid of the Quran on Intervale St., Charles St. AME on Warren St., Mission Church on Tremont St., and the First Church in Roxbury in Eliot Square.

As a kid, I went to Mission Church every first Friday, so that was a homecoming instead of a new discovery for me. Still, it was interesting to be there as a "tourist" learning about the church's symbolism and history. Plus, I finally learned the difference between a basilica and a cathedral; a basilica is the Pope's church when he travels from the Vatican, whereas a cathedral is a Cardinal's church.

The mosque was probably the place where I felt like I learned and was exposed to the most. I never go over to Grove Hall for anything, so having a small mosque become my first introduction to that side of Roxbury was eye-opening. I've been to mosques before, but never one in Boston, so seeing who attends that mosque was just as interesting as learning about its history. I knew it would be a Black congregation, but it looks like it's primarily an East African population, probably Somali or Sudanese. I felt a little bad that the imam felt it was necessary to say that his mosque and congregation are not tied to terrorism. At the same time, though, there's no point in skirting an issue some people were probably thinking and which he's probably been questioned about numerous times.

The other two places didn't interest me as much, but it was worth visiting them as a point of comparison to the Catholic church and Islamic mosque. The First Church of Roxbury is...well...plain. If you've seen one Unitarian Church, you've seen them all...at least around here. The Boston area has some really old Unitarian churches, but maybe they look different in other parts of the country. Charles St. AME was nice to visit simply because it has such a high political profile. The building itself isn't particularly impressive, although I did like their crucifix-shaped windows.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to tomorrow's Common Boston events and hope they do more of these more often. Event weekends like this fill a niche by giving Bostonians a means of interacting with and learning about each other on a personal level by taking us into each other's neighborhoods. Hopefully as their programming expands, more neighborhood organizations and institutions will also open their doors and engage the community in additional ways.

Variety Is the Spice of Life

It really does take all kinds.

On Saturday at a friend's birthday party downtown, a bunch of us started chatting about our favorite TV shows and the guys who make them so...um...interesting. To the dismay of our boyfriends, one friend and I started talking about the men of daytime television (yes, people, some of us watch the stories and we're not ashamed to say so). For those of you into the whole dreamy, muscular type, take my friend's advice and check out the Soap Hunks. My site of choice, though is NBC's daytime shows website. I find the picture quality better there.

However, for all you Catholics (or heathens and atheists not afraid of exploring something new), you might want to check out this calendar. Apparently the Boston Herald and gays around the world approve (who would've thought?!). I gotta meet the marketing/PR guy for the calendar and ask how to market Honey Brown Cards as the next hot new thing. We're "advertisting" on Friendster now and will soon be on Myspace so look out for us.

(Thanks to Keith Boykin for the calendar links).

Purgatory

On Friday I caught a glimpse of my afterlife. I'm under no illusions that I'm heading straight for Heaven, but I also don't believe that I'm bound for Hell either. I suppose there's some chance that I may be returned to Earth in some way, shape, or form, too. But, I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm heading to Purgatory for a little while. For those of you unfamiliar with Purgatory, it's the space between Heaven and Earth where not-so-good souls are sent to be cleansed before eventually being sent to Heaven. Some descriptions of Purgatory include firey references similar to Hell, but I suspect that it'll be more like what I witnessed on Friday.

So, how did I see the afterlife? Did I ingest some hallucinatory concoction, suffer a bump on the head, or have a near-death experience? Nope, nothing so amusing, cripling, or frightening. My glimpse at Purgatory came courtesy of the Suffolk Country Courthouse when I was selected for jury duty.

I don't know why I expect government to operate promptly and efficiently. As soon as I stepped off the elevator - at 7:45am I might add - I joined a long queue which stretched out of the Jury Pool, down the hall past the elevator bank, and then back down the hall. My journey through the queue took the better part of 30 minutes, at which point my personal information was collected by a guard and exchanged for a number. At that point I became 10-1. With my number in hand I sat down and made myself as comfortable as possible in an aisle seat watching other unfortunate souls enter the room, trying not to make eye contact with the young homely, blonde woman who was eyeing me, and trying not to make physical contact with the brunette woman who eventually sat next to me. She was ill and caughed and hacked on my left. To the right was a heavy-set man who chatted about nothing at all to the woman on his left with the disinterested expression.

As the morning trailed on the room was made to watch a 15 minute video about the importance of jury duty. That was then followed up by the appearance of a judge who thanked us for being responsible citizens and also equated jury duty service to military service. At that point the sick woman next to me croaked that our soldiers should be sent home. Eventually we were given a 45 minute break, but that did nothing more than provide a little tease of life back with the fortunate souls who were free to move about. Naturally we had to return to the courthouse, which was when I discovered the horrors of the men's room. I thought the Jury Pool was bad enough with the poor ventilation and harsh flourescent lights overhead. Little did I realize how filthy the restroom was until I saw the standing pools of water on the floor and smelled the stench eminating from parts unknown. One man couldn't even make it past the entrance before turning around, but I figured if it was bad on our floor, it would be bad elsewhere.

It wasn't until hours and hours later that the gates were opened and we were allowed to leave. None of the trials taking place needed jurors so we were all allowed to go. With a collective sigh we all rushed out of the room, down the stairs...and into the throws of a snowstorm. OK, so it wasn't the best way to end a torturous experience, but at least I'm absolved of jury duty in Massachusetts for another three years.