The Plains of Jamaica

I'll probably have one more Boston round-up of thoughts, maybe a video, maybe some photos, before I leave town for keeps (all coming up far too fast for my liking, but all to the good I think)... but after today's excessively-lovely start, I thought I'd make a quick note about how happy my current neighborhood has been making me, and how it's given me a truly good year in Boston.

The street where I live, during this year's "Maybe we'll just have a foot of snow for some reason" dump. NB: this is an extremely lovely neighborhood to be snowed into!

This morning, I walked up to Tres Gatos. It's my favorite neighborhood spot, and possibly my favorite restaurant in Boston these days: a Spanish small-plates spot (think tapas, though a bit more substantial - Vera in Chicago does a similar thing in more upscale/romantic atmosphere) that doubles as a record/book store. It's a delightful spot: delicious, flavorful food, incredibly friendly/happy staff, and an atmosphere that feels welcoming and unassuming. Today was Record Store Day, and the staff were handing out coffee and pastries to people waiting in line outside, who were variously chatting with each other about their kids, the records they were hoping to find, and the neighborhood at large.

The cumulative humanity in a place like this has the potential to make me really happy and hopeful, you guys!

All of this felt like what's made JP special to me. There's a sense of tight-knit community, not in an excluding way, but in that people want to know each other's names, want to connect, assume they'll keep seeing each other around. I noticed this early on, when the staff at the bakery around the corner learned my name by like my third visit (and still greet me familiarly if we pass on the street). It's a deliberately lo-fi neighborhood, generally fighting the incursion of chains, keeping prices relatively low for the Boston area, and committed to principles of inclusion and diversity. It has that magical balance you sometimes find of a neighborhood in a city that retains an urban ambition and forward-thinking energy while also feeling like a small town, the kind of place where (yes) on your walk home from Record Store Day you might see a Little League parade including two flatbed trucks providing live music, one from a Dixieland ensemble, and one from a Latinx trio.

The tail end of a blocks-long parade. BEST THING: these kids' teams weren't, as my childhood ones were, all branded as major league teams. No! It's the old-school model where you're playing for a local business, so you had a JP Licks team, you had a team for a city council member, you had a hardware store team... It was superb.

I've grown fond enough of the neighborhood that, if the money worked and the commute wasn't nightmarish (90 minutes, which I feel gross to report did not feel insane by Bostonian crosstown standards), I would probably have stuck around for one more year while I finished my dissertation. But while I'll be on my way very soon, it feels really good to know that I found my home neighborhood, the place I'll revisit when I'm back in town, and the source of much of my lingering affection for Boston.

My snowy back porch, a deeply lovely place (when not covered in snow).

I've known for a decent bit that my surroundings have a pretty big effect on me; neighborhoods that feel like JP, or my old Chicago stomping grounds of Lincoln Square or Andersonville, with a sense of community openness, caring residents, and a blend of shops/cafes/bars/homes lending a sense of stability and warmth to my life. And it took me a while to find that here - most of the neighborhoods I lived in were student-heavy, the kind of places where undergrads would dump trash/clothing/TVs on the street because they knew they'd be gone in a year, and where the neighborhood vibe was very much "I don't need to learn your name." They had their bright spots, obviously, but it was a hard time for me in ways that I sort-of knew but didn't feel able to do anything about. After four years in Boston, I'm glad I finally found a spot that energized me, that felt like home. Thanks, JP, you swell old thing.

This isn't even one of JP's better murals (and obviously not a great shot of it), but this neighborhood's mural game is strong and great. I will miss it a lot! Who saw THAT coming!

Tres Gatos in its day-to-day "people will eat food in the front, and if they want records they can go to the BACK" incarnation.

Tres Gatos, Record Store Day. Friendly staff, tons of great finds, extremely friendly folk, and just about everything that makes me happy. Hooray for THINGS!