Earlier this month, Paul took off to rural New Hampshire, where in between driving firetrucks, playing with water hoses, setting up fireworks, eating flavorful grilled meat, teaching people to juggle, and riding motorcycles through the countryside, he learned all sorts of intimate knowledge about Massachusetts folk from the locals.\u00c2\u00a0 For example, he learned that most New Hampshire restaurants and services have two price points, a high-price printed one for those from out-of-town (read: those who have weekend homes in NH but live elsewhere) and one for locals.\u00c2\u00a0 While setting up the fireworks display, he had several run-ins with folks in expensive cars irritated that they couldn’t park within the out-of-bounds safety zone mandated for a community fireworks display.\u00c2\u00a0 When he noticed that both of the incidents involved cars with Massachusetts license plates, his friend responded, “Yup.\u00c2\u00a0 That’s why we call ’em Massholes.”<\/p>\n
Awesome.\u00c2\u00a0 With a name like that, who wouldn’t want to go hang out with ’em?\u00c2\u00a0 Which is exactly what we are thrilled to be doing in October.<\/p>\n
We’ve got a little over 3 days in Boston and have no idea what to do.\u00c2\u00a0 I was 5 when we moved from Billerica (a NW suburb) and only have vague memories of the library, gardens, and swan boats.\u00c2\u00a0 Actually, besides the day when my brother rode his Hot Wheels through the woods and into a 4-lane highway,\u00c2\u00a0 my best memory of Billerica is bringing our trash to the dump.\u00c2\u00a0 I feel that this does not necessarily reflect the character of the community but more likely speaks volumes of me.<\/p>\n