I was glad to see an article in today’s WoMag about parking privatization, and that many of my suggestions for further research were included. It would have been nice if Sean had been credited for bringing this topic to the attention of many, including me. (It was very nice to see him featured in the Blog Log, though, because the first concert I saw with my husband was Makem & Clancy.)
It was also nice to see a profile of Allie Simone, especially as I’d just found out that Doreen Currier/LaPorte/last name of the week was out and Allie was in as the director of WARL last week.
So — Jeremy — as much as I love providing so much research for your newspaper, you’d better start treating me nicer (mentions in the Blog Log, supportive comments on the blog, shoveling my driveway, Hall and Oates box set, autographed) or you’re going to have to start buying me liquid refreshment. Lucky for you my drink of choice is Tab.
I’d been thinking about WGBH’s purchase of WCRB for a while now, especially Richard Knisley getting cut from the former, the decision to turn the former into a competitor of WBUR, and the completely ridiculous saga that is that big TV screen on the Pike.
Our greatest indulgence as parents (next to owning over 100 books about dinosaurs and prehistoric mammals) has been to allow our five-year-old son to have his radio on all night, tuned to WCRB. Sometimes he’ll tell me that he heard Peter and the Wolf — “without the words!” — when he woke up in the middle of the night. I’m convinced that his obsession with owning a Toyota when he’s older is because he’s heard too many ads on ‘CRB about “the best day of your life.”
His complaints about WCRB were mostly the times when they’d play swing music on the occasional Saturday night; he’d turn up his nose at something so blatantly “not classical music” and we’d pop in the Beethoven CDs we keep in reserve for those occasions.
I heard the new WCRB last week while driving him to T-Ball, and I was pleasantly refreshed. It wasn’t the typical Top-40 Classical music that ‘CRB usually would play in the 5-7pm slot, but much more aurally challenging music, more typical of WGBH’s classical selections. I asked my son if he liked the change in format; he said it was “different” but that he still liked it. He also likes the lack of commercials. (No word on whether his preference for Toyotas has abated.)
“Different” is fine for someone like me, because I’ve played more Vivaldi than I care to think about. But part of me hopes that WCRB doesn’t throw the baby out with the bathwater. It’s great to hear something I’ve never heard before, but there are people out there (like my son) for whom a classical station is also an education, not just a way to prove how cultured they are or what excellent taste in music they have.
I hope that my son will still have opportunities to hear Peter and the Wolf — with or without words — in the wee hours.
Every once in a while some of my favorite bloggers post the search terms that brought someone to their website.
Last week, it seemed like “rosalie tirella” and the variants thereof was bringing people to my blog.
There was also a search last week for blog “hurricane betty’s” dancer, which was followed this week by centerfold rt 20 worcester. (I think to complete the circle, I should put “Crystal Palace” and “Platinum Premier” in this post, so that anyone looking for any strip clubs in the Greater Worcester Area can be directed to my blog.)
For the person searching for nick kotsopoulos home email, sorry, I don’t have it, but I wish you luck! Or a restraining order!
Also, in the past day or two, there have been a bunch of people searching for my first name plus Worcester (or nicole worcester blog + parking). It’s made me wonder how long I can keep the comparative anonymity of using only my first name. It was nice to just be able to introduce myself as “Nicole” when I saw Brian on Sunday. (It’s not that I don’t like my last name — I like it enough to have kept it when I married — but there’s something to be said for not being easily googleable, which I am anyway. And using my first name, mentioning my husband’s Irish language fluency, and waxing rhapsodic about Hall and Oates would be enough for anyone who knew me in real life.)
I know Brendan had posted previously about his foray into the seedy world of breast milk sales. Does anyone else feel like sharing some search terms that brought people to their blog?
I don’t always pay attention to the billboards on I-290, usually because I’m perpetually running late for work.
But on Sunday mornings, my husband drives us to church, so I get to look around a bit more than usual.
If I were Jeff Barnard, I would have taken a picture of the billboard on the westbound side, near the 146 exit, almost exactly above where the Heidi’s Hippie Hideaway billboard once displayed a lavender bus on the side of a three-decker. But I can’t take pictures and drive at the same time.
There’s a billboard for some sort of “ultimate return” that will yield 15%, which one would think no one would respond to in a post-Bernie Madoff world. But the billboard has been up there a while, and so — either out of laziness or because there are those who do respond to this sort of wild impossibility — it has remained, in all its hot pink glory.
So, on one little stretch of 290, in the course of a few years, there have been two different insights into the soft underbelly of Worcester. One was a kinder, gentler (or at least, quirkier) view that repurposed a sign advertising for bus drivers into a hippie vision. The other is a view of people who prey on others’ desperation in an extraordinarily difficult time.
I wonder what insight into the city of Worcester will next be displayed on those billboards.