Smile, you're on security camera. From the city's proposal to put cameras in high-crime areas to topics as varied as wasabi-pea ice cream and the T, Boston-area bloggers were talking last week.
Mats Tolander of the Fenway writes on his Internet128 Weblog that he doesn't think much of the city's plans to install video cameras in high-crime neighborhoods as a crime deterrent: ''Nothing good will come out of this. If the cameras reduce crime, we'll be told we need more cameras in more places. If they don't reduce crime, will be told we need more cameras in more places. Instead of putting cameras everywhere, as if Boston were some dadgum post-industrial wasteland in northern England, or its American equivavlent, how about some more freaking cops?"
Karl Coleman of the West End gets on the Red Line at Central Square and sits down next to a young woman smelling of patchouli. At the next stop, an older woman chewing Bubble Yum gets on. On his Adventures in Gastronomy, he writes: ''The combination of those two smells sent my olfactory system into overload. What a beautiful combination . . . seriously! I was euphoric. I was feeling this bizarre sense of deja vu and relaxation . . . some sort of contact high that put me in a place I needed to be at that moment. . . . "
Incense and peppermints
What in the world would persuade Toscanini's in Cambridge's Central Square to make wasabi-pea ice cream? And what in the world would persuade Ben Brophy of Cambridge and a co-worker to eat some of it? Well, for the latter, it was a double-dog dare: ''It's really pretty bad. It's just sweet cream ice cream with a bunch of wasabi peas dumped in," he writes on his La Familia Brophy. ''The ice cream was good, but the peas tasted all mealy and weird." Nick Branigan, an ice cream maker at the shop, was surprised to hear somebody didn't like the month-old concoction. ''The consensus here was that it was pretty good." He says the creation was born because of his love of the salty, crunchy peas as a snack.
Gary McGath, who works in Cambridge, gets on the Red Line at Harvard to try to get to Porter in time for his commuter-rail ride home. But the train isn't moving: A motorman is refusing to let the train out of the station until a paint-tub drummer stops drumming. Only the guy, banging away, can't hear the conductor yelling at him on the train P.A. Finally, something persuades the T guy to shut the doors. Of course, McGath writes on his The Blog of M'Gath, this being the T, it ultimately didn't matter: His train out of Porter was 20 minutes late.
Drumroll, please not
Speaking of the T, recent weeks have seen several sites pop up to critically analyze the T, including Red Line Diary (redlinediary.blogspot.com); MBTA Under (mbtaunder.blog-city.com), which specializes in detailing bus alternatives to subway rides; T Rage (t-rage.blogspot.com) and Transport Avenger (transportavenger.blogspot.com), which often focuses on the Silver Line. The granddaddy of them all is Bad Transit (www.badransit.com), which has been letting T riders vent for several years now.
Take my T, please
Steve Garfield of JP is at Gary's Liquors in West Roxbury when he spies an $85 bottle of Budweiser. Yes. An $85 bottle. Of Bud. Granted, it's a 46.5 ''magnum" of Budweiser's Brew Masters' Private Reserve, but he figured that worked out to $1.83 an ounce. On his Off on a Tangent blog, his take: ''Seems high for a Bud."
Good as gold
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