That St Louis gal wouldn’t look like what she ain’t.
— from “The St Louis Blues” as sung by Doc Watson
The other day, I expanded my Boston-area horizons somewhat. Various routines are apt to keep me to a small repertory of well-beaten paths, but Saturday night I headed out to Brighton, for it was high time I broke bread again with a friend who, in the days ere I knew him, migrated to Boston to kick the St Louis blues. (Just rhetorical flourish, of course; I’ve never heard him speak a word against Missouri.)
One component of the overall experience that day was, new surroundings to ogle while waiting 40 minutes for an MBTA bus.
More amusingly (much, much more), however: I saw — when the bus had finally arrived, and we were trundling through Brookline Village — that a movie house in Coolidge Corner is holding a “Holy Grail Quote-Along” (and later this week as it turns out). I should not actually go, of course; but part of me is delighted simpy at the thought that they are doing such a thing . . . .