pressure gonn’ drop on you

Go out of your way for your friends and it usually turns out to be worth your while.

On Saturday, I drove to Bukowski Tavern – not a huge jaunt from my house, but farther than I might normally drive – to catch Heather C. on a rare trip to Boston. She spotted me before I saw her and swam through the crowd to catch me. I chatted her up for a bit before running into Dana J. and TC, whom I shared beer and hot dogs with while talking about the scene. I had soaked at Inman Oasis for half an hour before hand; loose muscles and craft IPAs inspired me to speak more than I usually might.

Later that evening, Misch needed a ride back to Jamaica Plain after the trains stopped running. We talked art in the car ride home. “You seem to already be composing the review in your head when you see something,” she said. And though I have a profound tendency to get immersed in whatever I’m seeing – a TV show, a movie, a good play – this is true. I think about what I view in critical language. I had done this earlier in the evening watching a sketch duo called Tango, who I suspect are about four months of work away from being the funniest sketch performers in Boston. Call me on it.

And on Sunday, Fraley invited me to his place in Newton to watch the ball game. Snow was falling and more was expected, and the warm embrace of the couch tempted me. Or hell, my choice of sports bars within a few blocks of my front door. But I realized I’d rather watch the Ravens’ triumphal victory – or regrettable loss – in the company of good friends and nourishing food. Fraley and Melissa have always been generous in providing both.

I’m not much of an extrovert. But it’s good to know that when I choose to step outside my shell I usually choose right.

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