Class: another substitute. Made just a couple too many //s between Hitler and GWB. After one of several remarks about concentration camps and gitmo, another student mentioned that one couldn't compare the two concepts. And that was that.
While showing the Frenchie around, it occurred to me that my happy community college is kind of like a cleaner, more user-friendly Stendhal. (Hmm.)
Lunch: The Frenchie wanted un gros steack so I took him to the 99 across the street from school. Explained how this particular restaurant was called the 95. Fiddled around with his calculator in order to figure out how big of a sirloin he was going to get; determined that they all were pretty darn huge.
I like taking him to chain restaurants because they get such a bad rap over in France (an awful lot of chains there are pretty bad, actually, so I can kind of understand the mefiance). He admitted that a brick box was something that a Frenchie would immediately turn their nose up at, but that it was actually quite good and his steak (saignant: run through a warm room) was excellent.
Wandered over to the Constitution, checked out the repair work. Got to experience the wonders of a beautiful working harbor (pictures later).
Long Wharf: bought socks, checked out the Tea Party action. Not much going on at 4:30 pm. Very difficult to explain how a fledgling movement with a few hundred protesters (here and there which ends up becoming thousands) could be so much more threatening to TPTB than the cast of thousands that converges upon the streets of Paris roughly every other week. (Granted France does have lots of problems and shutting things down sometimes works, but not everyone subscribes to the notion that throwing money at pet entitlements is the solution to all the ills at hand). Again, pictures later.
Beacon Hill: Cherries and magnolias in bloom! Train station was gorgeous in the late afternoon light.
Home: Root Beer floats! Noticed that I got a sunburn. Time for bed.