Boston (2)

One last thing before I return to Albuquerque. I was never really a Bostonian. Nor even a New Englander. You need to grow up there for that. It helps, too, if your parents and perhaps their parents grew up there, as well.

Yet, I'm married to a native New Englander. My son spent his childhood there. I, myself, lived in the area twenty years there.

And, well, I'm proud of the town…my other, adopted home. I'm proud of the way it handled the crisis. I am proud of the way it aided the injured, grieved for the dead, endured the lockdown, co-operated with authorities, celebrated the capture of the bombers, and did it all without too much bloodlust.

There was something noble in all of that.  I'm not sure that, had I been there, I would have managed it quite so well.

So, bravo (and brava) to Beantown. You're a better place than I am a person.