Saturday, September 20

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Accents and Outbacks

The first signal that I have departed from central New Jersey and the New York metropolitan area is purely auditory. However crude nonnatives may find the convention, a Boston accent casually overheard affirms that I am indeed home with more certainty than any other custom. And thicker, more frequent usage of the accent generally coincides with increasing proximity to the city.

Now to be honest, I don't have the prototypical Boston accent and am actually much more product of greater Boston suburbia than the city itself. In fact, my Midwest-raised parents were so terrified I would actually have a Boston accent that as a first grader, I was sent to a speech therapist, who repeatedly prodded me as to what sound a seal makes — ar! ar! — an entirely cruel proposition. Yet since coming to Princeton, hearing the Boston accent has become oddly comforting, soothing even. More simply put, "heahing people tahk ahbout how legit the Sahx, Pats, Celts, or B's ahe is [expletive] sick, kid." For those still unfamiliar to that which I am referencing, please revisit any recent movie attempting to evoke Boston, such as "Good Will Hunting," "Mystic River," "Fever Pitch," "The Departed" or my personal favorite, "The Boondock Saints." Or simply attend a speech given by Sen. Edward "Teddy K" Kennedy (D-Mass.). Just make sure you don't accept his offer of a ride home afterwards.

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My affinity for the Boston accent stems not from enjoyment of hearing people communicate in this fashion, but rather its holistic representation of the city. And to my knowledge, there exist only two other famous Boston icons: New England Clam Chowdah and the Subaru Outback wagon.

"Chowdah" is, like so much of Boston, appealing in part because it is traditional, originating from Boston's blue-collar, seafaring heritage. From the citified neighborhoods of Southie and North End to the Revolutionary War battlefields of Concord and Lexington, a sense of Boston's history and tradition is tangible in everyday life. Thoreau's Walden Pond is less than 10 minutes from my house by car. When homesick at Princeton, or hungover from a debaucherous night spent on Prospect Avenue, "Chowdah" serves as my comfort food panacea. (N.B. To those readers curious, I recommend Legal Sea Foods at The Mall at Short Hills. Their "Chowdah" has been served at every Presidential Inauguration since 1981, and the 45-minute drive offers ripe reason to procrastinate.)

Similarly, the Subaru Outback wagon offers the quintessential convergence of New England economy, efficiency and environmental sustainability. And the sheer multitude that congregate in the parking lots of Whole Foods and Barnes & Noble sheds light on greater Boston politics. Adorned with bumper stickers castigating conservative causes, supporting liberal politicians and usually promoting one of those rather indistinguishable New England Small College Athletic Conference schools, the common Subaru Outback is modernly emblematic of the fiery political activism historically rooted in the city.

From hosting the Boston Tea Party to becoming the first state to allow gay marriage, this traditionally incendiary yet embraceable political passion makes me strongly doubt that I would raise children elsewhere. Thus, the Subaru Outback is illustrative of our social politics: to keep to one's business, to allow individuals to lead the lives they choose and to enable these individuals via plausible government support.

However cliche, it would be an obvious flaw if I failed to mention the Red Sox given that it is October and the Yankees' season just ended. The Red Sox epitomize the perception of Boston as a hardworking, underdog of a city — scruffy around the edges. With each game the team plays, aspiration and hope fuel Red Sox fans to boisterously support their hometown squad. Yet perhaps the Red Sox' appeal stems not from their play, but rather from the team's ability to unify Boston's populace across racial, gender, linguistic and socioeconomic barriers. Boston is often referred to as "Beantown," a nominal term that evokes the diversity present in the city. And never is this diversity more apparent than at Red Sox games, when Boston's populace puts all differences aside and unifies as fans.

Despite my shameless touting of the greater Boston area, I fully recognize that the city is not free of social ills. From the Busing Crisis of 1974 to the more recent budgetary and structural problems associated with "The Big Dig," Boston's history contains injustices just as in so many cities across the United States. Yet what inspires me is not only the opportunity for improvement, but also the residents' desire to effect meaningful change. With the long-awaited completion of "The Big Dig," the redevelopment of the South Boston waterfront and an array of more localized improvement plans, Boston is undergoing a renaissance, ushering in a new era of a legacy already laced with pride. So, to those of you who think there exists no good reason to venture north of the New York metropolitan area, take a drive up to Boston this fall: Enjoy the peak New England foliage, witness the Head of the Charles and comprehend how much Boston truly has to offer.

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