I am sitting in our small but elegant room in the Omni Parker House in downtown Boston. Yes, you read that right. A white, redneck Montana boy and his wife are actually in Bean Town, pretending to fit in with blue-blooded uppercrust old historic New Englanders. Quite comical.
First of all, I have to ask Justin why they hell there aren't any fucking Cinnebuns (or even Cinnebits) in the fucking Denver airport? I had to settle for some dried out, unheated piece of shit cinnamon roll that I was barely able choke down for $4.
Arrival into Boston was uneventful. I made the mistake of watching the pilot episode of Journeyman on the plane, a new NBC drama about a guy who goes back in time so he can help save people. The premise seemed interesting at first (before I realized there was a purpose to his time travel trips) but it just got worse as it went and less interesting and unique since they chose to make it an episodic show and there are no mysteries left hanging between shows.
The first thing I noticed about Boston is that there is a Dunkin' Doughnuts on every block. I'm barely exaggerating. I'm going to have to see what the fuss is about and grab a doughnut tomorrow. Never been to a Dunkin' Doughnuts before.
We took the blueline from the airport to Government Center and walked to our hotel. According to the promotional information supplied by the hotel, this is the longest, continually operating hotel in the US.
JFK announced his candidacy here and also had his bacherlor party here. Emerson, Thoreau, Hawthorne and Longfellow met here routinely for their "Saturday Club."
While it's now owned by the Omni Hotel chain, it feels very old and ornate, a better hotel I can't imagine and the price was pretty fair.
Anyway, we walked around downtown for a bit and then ate at a nice little pub called Emmitt's.
The misses and I will be heading to the north side tomorrow evening for dinner and will decide where to go in the day by random methodology.