Ode to Cambridge?

I find myself torn every time I'm Cambridge. On the one hand, I dig the subtle vibe of snobby intellectualism combined with crunchy altruism. On the other hand, I'm mildly repulsed by the combination scent of puke, urine, and liquor. The abundance of homeless residents, overpriced lattes, non-profit orgs, and mezcla of hippies, yuppies, and business folk elicit in me feelings of life, beauty, and annoyance.

Last night, we spent the evening with good friends at Bruce and Christy's "59 days until Bush leaves office" party. We partied in style in their fancy Cambridge, multi-story pad, drinking wine, playing pool, and listening to Belle and Sebastian. At the end of the night, driving down Mass Ave, I was hit with a sense of familiarity - the same sense of familiarity I often experience in Central Square. I felt comfortable, homey, if you will, for just a slight second. Of course, the second ended when a bunch of wasted kids ran in front of the car like monkeys let out of their cages.

Anyway, just some musings. I'll keep the world updated with my moderately interesting, slowly developing opinion of Cambridge.

For all who are wondering about Brad, since I haven't written about his life in a couple of weeks, here is the snapshot. Brad is well and happy. He will race a 4 miler on Thanksgiving Day. He bought our turkey yesterday. He just took laundry out of the dryer. He is in the middle of Shelley's Frankenstein.