Last night I went out with a group of moms. It’s an informal grouping, like a book club with no limit. It’s a great little idea actually. It was started by a couple gals, and every once in awhile they organize a fun group activity. Last night took us nighttime snowshoeing on a trail outside of Chelsea.
Most of us had no idea what we were doing, but once we strapped those puppies on our feet and head out no one had any troubles at all. There’s something really great about tromping around a forest in the still of the night. This is a great family activity – I’ve spoken to lots of people who do it with their kids.
Weather-wise it was the perfect evening.
We followed it up with some drinks. We tried Trio, but there are so few tables that it was impossible to seat us all. We tried Milagro’s, it was packed, and then, as a last resort: Puzzles.
And it was karaoke night.
If you’re live in the Westboro area you might be familiar with Puzzles. It’s a holdover from yesteryear, unwittingly surrounded by the likes of Lululemon and Starbucks. Before yesterday I’d never ventured inside, despite the fact they’re always advertising the $6.95 burger – best in Westboro.
It’s supposed to be a restaurant but everyone knows it’s really just about the drinking. There are people drinking and watching TV at all hours of the day.
So yeah, it’s dicey. (Marla is rolling her eyeballs right about now, she’s ALL ABOUT the dicey joints. Marla, I know, it is character-building!) Most of our party had never set foot inside Puzzles, ever.
As we sat there, being blasted by music, I had a good chance to look around. These were a whole different sort of people. These are the people who don’t drink fancy coffee, do yoga, or eat sushi at MHK. I never see these people, but they’re out there. And Westboro, suffering from a high degree of gentrification, belongs to these folks as much as the latte-swillers (a group of which I am a part). I was kind of converted. I’m pro Puzzles (tho’ I’m not entirely sure I’m going to go there again.)
The karaoke was hilarious. There were all kinds of people getting up to belt out a song, from young (teen girls singing “R-E-S-P-E-C-T”), to old (elderly dude who sang “New York, New York.”) Some were very very good, and others were so very not… ear stabbingly so. (I’m talking to you, Annie Lennox.) We drank beer, ate nachos (think: Tostitos with a half jar of olives, salsa, cheese dumped on top), laughed, and sang along. One of our number even got up herself to do a different Annie Lennox, which was actually good. (And no, it wasn’t me, even though that quart bottle of Corona was loosening me up a notch.)
There was one youngish guy there I thought I recognized from somewhere. I searched my brain and came up dry (no surprise there!).
His tune of choice was Ice Ice Baby and he was surprisingly good … for a white boy, YES, I said it A WHITE BOY even though VANILLA ICE is also a WHITE BOY. The guy knew every word of the song. Then it hit me. I knew where I knew him from … he was a children’s entertainer, and had been in my home for Sarah’s last birthday party. (hint)
Hilarious.
Oh, and someone accidentally poured a beer down my back. But that didn’t dampen my spirits. A friend and I walked home together. All in all, a good night I think.
Today: winter carnival at Dovercourt, followed by dinner with friends.
