I came into Boston on the 24th. First order of business was meeting Karen (a friend from the German school) for lunch.

We walked around Harvard campus first.

We spent maybe an hour in the Harvard Art Museum where Karen amazed me with her knowledge of iconography in the Christian artwork we saw, and her knowledge of art history generally when we got to the more modern art. Then we ate Indian.

Next I checked into my hostel. It was in a rather grungy part of town, and that impression was not ameliorated by the experience of checking in. The man at the front desk was 78 years old and had a strong Boston accent. He was talking with the owner, also about 78 and with an equal accent. "I hope there's not a full moon tonight, I had enough crazy yesterday." There had been a "crazy [woman]" there yesterday, who tried to check in for a month, but the owner in his wisdom said, "let's start with a day." She bothered the guests, and wouldn't leave until the police came. "[Woman] was even crazier 'n me," commented the front desk man.

He was huge and muscular for a 78-year-old. When he shook my hand he nearly crushed it. He was ex-military, I learned. He and the owner were childhood friends, and he had only joined the military because it was offered to him as an alternative to jail time.

"You look young for 78," I remarked.

"It's these young ladies, they keep me young," he answered.

Ah. Someone should tell the scientists about this.

My next order of business was meeting Leo (another friend from the German school) for dinner. We also met at Harvard Square and walked around the campus, but I saw it at night this time. He knew all sorts of history about the buildings on campus and funny stories about his own experiences there.

We talked and before I knew it, it was 1:30 am.

Ugh.

So I walked to the parking garage, and got in my car, ready to drive home. A guy approaches my car, looking quizzical. His car was dead and he asked me if I could help him jump his car. I was happy to help. Then he called his friend, and informed me that his car wasn't in the parking structure, it was down the street a little ways and if I would just follow him we could have his car jumped in 5 minutes and I'd be on my way.

I grew a little suspicious at this point. His friend came, so there were two guys now. And I wasn't sure about following them down a dark street at 1:30 am in downtown Boston.

But on the other hand if he was really in trouble I wanted to help him out. So I gave him my cables, and told him that his friend could jump him with his car and my cables and I'd wait right here.

They were back in 10 minutes, very relieved and grateful, and they offered me a smoke. So in the end it was not a nefarious plot.

I drove to the hostel and fell right asleep.

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