Jillian C. York

Jillian C. York is a writer and activist.

Month: April 2008 (page 1 of 2)

Finding Boston brew…

I couldn’t get this to work as a sidebar, but check it out – Guidespot.com is a project I’ve been working on for a couple of months, covering Boston’s best. Here’s my latest:

Thursdays on the T…

The green B line of Boston’s T (MBTA or public transit system, that is) is notoriously crowded, filled with rowdy BC and BU kids and people like myself. In Park Street station, where I get on for my homeward commute, it’s particularly rough, with everyone clamoring for the few available seats. Today, I was fortunate enough to be at the front of the line as the ol’ B rolled in and so immediately gunned it to the upper level, where a nice, open seat awaited me…I had barely sat and reopened my copy of Wired, however, when a leggings-and-flip-flops wearing, giant-ugly-Coach-bag carrying BU chick stopped right in front of me, made a face, and began bitching to her friend to my right about how heavy her bag is, and how she really wanted to sit down. And then the two girls proceeded to unabashedly bitch about how I’d stolen the girl’s seat. Yes, indeedy, they loudly complained for over 12 stops about how I, first in line, had stolen a seat on the T. I ignored them, of course. When the seat across from my neighbor to the right opened up though, the ugly-bag-carrying girl, still standing, refused to sit on the grounds that someone’s butt would be in her face (such is the crowded nature of the B line). And I continued to ignore them, until the seated girl gasped and proclaimed “ohmigod that is like, the ugliest, like, dog, I have ever, like seen.” And then I couldn’t help but look…and when I did, I saw something like this…

…Only uglier, and with more bugged-out eyes and a tongue hanging out to the side, and dammit, I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing, garnering stares from not only the two girls but nearly everyone else in the immediate vicinity (except, thank goodness, the dog’s owner, who was happily distracted, perhaps by the fact that she was wearing capri pants with white socks and high-heeled sandals).

In case my depiction of the two girls was not sufficient, allow me to present you with a sampling of their conversation:

Seated girl: “Have you, like, seen that commercial with all the dogs and cats and Sarah McLaughlin?”

Coach-bag girl: “Um, yeah.”

Seated girl, squealing: “Ohmigod, my roommates were all, ‘turn that off!’ because I started crying. I mean, the dogs were like [makes sad dog face] and I was like [makes crying face] and then they were like ‘ohmigod, like shut that off!”

Coach-bag girl: “That is like, so sad!”

That is my commute.

Talib Kweli @ BC

My Saturday night was capped off by seeing Talib Kweli perform at BC…Now, I’ve seen him three times before, but this was by far the best.  I don’t know if the latest politics have gotten him riled up or what but he was on fire (one of my favorite lines from the night was “my name’s hard to pronounce like Barrrrrrack Obama!”).

To my friends who aren’t into hip-hop, he very well could make you change your mind.  I’m not going to spout all the typical “conscious rapper” crap that everyone talks about Kweli, because that’s not all it’s about.  Mos Def, KRS-One, Ras Kass, etc etc are all “conscious” too, but that’s not what draws me to Kweli, rather, it’s the fact that he has no affect whatsoever.  When he rhymes, he is who he is.  Also, he had his kids up on stage with him throughout the whole show, just chilling in the back dancing along but unobtrusively.  At his shows, he makes you feel like a friend from the neighborhood, rather than a simple audience member.

Afterward we hit up Charlesmark which, with its padded walls and all, is reminiscent somehow of both Pacha and a mental health facility.

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