1 September 2001

Today was moving^[1] day in Boston: a massive sudden inward flux of 250,000 college students descending on the city in a caravan of moving vans and SUVs. The streets were a panicked chaos of activity.

It was wonderful.

^[1] Joe and I argued briefly and violently about whether to call it “move-in day” or “moving day.” My swift and terrible reasoning came down meanly on the hyphen, splintering it irreparably, and “moving day” won out.

Shooting from the hip in Brookline.

Collegiate sidewalk cot.

I spent most of the day helping Joe and Jacob move.

Transporting Jacob’s box spring and Joe’s grill.

And then later we drove around Allston.

The money shot.

It turns out lower Allston is awash with drunken frat-house buffoonery:

Life imitates a prison riot.

As we were barreling down Mem. Drive, Joe at the wheel, we passed these two guys in a Grand Cherokee. One of them mysteriously held out a photograph of three people in a bar for our approval.

Mystery photo of mystery photo (taken at 30mph).