Having just rediscovered my love for the song "Please Come to Boston," I had it on continuous replay this morning and was singing along with it in the kitchen, each version getting louder and more heartfelt as I reconnected with the aching poignancy of the lyrics. Now I realize that everybody in the post office below (we live in an apartment above it and the kitchen is directly above all the p.o. boxes) could hear me loud and clear as I belted it out over and over. I'll know it's bad if the postmaster starts singing "please leave old chatham" under her breath as I get the mail today.

- posted by cricket @ 6:03 AM