Jeremiah reports from a C train on the Green Line:

If I die suddenly, it might be because some bum was spraying an aerosol can on the Green C-line. There was no paint coming out, but I could smell the fumes. Also peculiar is that he was spraying the heating vents. ...

Despite what you may read elsewhere, the last time the Citgo Sign underwent a major renovation was not 1965. It was 1983, when Bostonians protested plans by Citgo to tear the sign down (four years after it was turned off to conserve energy):

... Boston mothers played an important role in the protest. At one time, the sign was visible from the maternity ward at Beth Israel Hospital, where mothers-to-be timed their contractions by its pulsing flash in the evening sky. ...

I've not written anything on the latest Lawrence Summers/Harvard controversy because emotions are high and plenty of other people have taken up the in-the-moment sort of commentary. I have nothing to add to this. I'm more interested in the big picture anyway, and have been just sort of keeping an eye on what's been going on since I moved up to Somerville and all hell started breaking loose. To me it seems as though Summers may be onto something if he's managing to piss off all the right people like he seems to be.

This Tech Central Station article provides an excellent synopsis of the controversies to date, from Summers denouncing a call for Harvard to divest from Israeli companies to his calling Cornell West on his quality of scholarship, disallowing the law school from participating in that suit over federal funding for schools that do not allow military recruitment on campus, and the current tempest fomented by some hysterical reactionaries regarding his comments on women in the sciences.

To this, I would probably add that he's gained no fans for the current relooking at Harvard's reexamination of its student rape/harassment policy, as well, though I'm not certain to what level he's involved.

It's at this point that I make my admission that, though I have no real fondness to this behemoth north of the Charles that tends to overshadow everything else, I'm watching with much interest how this all pans out for Dr. Summers. I wish him the best in his endeavors, as 17 years ago, when I moved here, the former "sleepy commuter school," and "backwater Boston College" I was attending was in the throes of almost exactly the same sort of conflict. The gritty, strong-armed visionary who set nearly everyone on edge over there managed to pull something amazing off, too, by turning this former party school into what is now considered to be an "academic powerhouse." (I see a lot of parallels to Summers in Silber, as well - from the confrontational style to the ramping up of academics to even the Democratic politics with tough-love delivery). Boston University had nowhere to go but up, and it skyrocketed, thanks to John Silber. Harvard will always be Harvard, but perhaps with Summers to kick it back into shape, it will reverse its decline in some areas into a "Coach Bag" diploma (expensive, pretty, lots of brand name cache, but of decreasing quality - is that a BU girl metaphor or what?).

Should cities and towns be providing wireless Internet connectivity? BigMegaTelcos say no (of course), but Charles says Boston's 19th century experience with water supplies suggests another answer:

... Public wells in Boston were limited by some of the same problems affecting private (and public, for that matter) Wi-Fi hotspots. Wells dry up and hotspots disappear as companies decide the fee based structure no longer works. Well water quality declined in Boston as the population grew, likewise, the more people using hotspots, the more the quality of service can degrade. In addition, using a private WiFi spot leaves one at the mercy of the provider, which can track what you’re up to when you’re online. Conversely, providers are subject to unwelcome uses. Both wells and WiFi hotspots are examples of uneven distribution. Wells existed only where water was undergound and paid WiFi only exists where economically feasible. Vast segments of the population have the potential to be underserved. ...

Be reports:

... Walking home tonight, on Park Street in Somerville, I saw a little hybrid car with a bumper sticker that said:

"What Would Wellstone Do? (WWWD)"

May whoever strike me down for this, but being brain-fried into literal mode by the events of the day, all I could think of was, "be rolling in his grave?" ...

I am cowering in my basement as I cut and paste this headline from Michelle "50% less anorexic than Ann Coulter" Malkin's site:

ANARCHY IN BOSTON

On top of its al Qaeda problem and its MS-13 problem, Boston has another headache: anarchists.

When, oh, when will the president send in the troops to save us? The Liberal Avenger sends out this last dispatch before the anarchists descend:

... It's like Mad Max in the snow here.

Remember me like I was before the beginning of the end.

Remember me fondly.

Karl compares Boston's chaotic street layout to Chicago's orderly grid and concludes:

... I like narrow curving roads that provide surprises at every corner. I like "streets" that are so narrow they can't accomodate automobiles. It all just feels so much more organic to me...more intimate.

Peter notes a squib in a Minnesota paper about Danny Ainge possibly moving there after the current season to coach the Timberwolves:

... Two games after the Walker trade, people are starting to actually follow the Celtics for the first time in three seasons. Why would he walk out now?

File this one under pipe dreams. Or maybe crack pipe dreams.

Chris vows not to buy the new CD by the Irish Tenor Dr. Ronan Tynan, you know, the guy with the ears who sings "God Bless America" during the seventh-inning stretch at Yankee Stadium:

.. Where does he get off having such a long title anyway? Is "The Irish Tenor" not good enough for him? He feels he needs a "Dr." too? Why doesn't he go ahead and add "Esquire" to the end of his name. Better yet. how about "The Irish Tenor Dr. Ronan 'Two Tons of Fun' Tynan, Esquire." ...

Roslindale street scene this morning.

Halley: My cross-country skiis have gotten quite a workout this year.

Trevor: It's bound to stop snowing soon or later, right? He posts mid-storm photos.

Nat posts mid-storm photos as well. Ana too. Mats posts photos of a Kenmore Square car accident. The Urban Pantheist takes shots along the Muddy River.

Andy's flight from Paris to India is delayed because the plane got stuck in our storm.

Angela: Mother Nature, I'm begging you - please make this the last one.

For the love of God! I can't take this snow anymore! Mercy!

Heather refuses to mention how tired she is of the snow.

All snow, all the time - Latest snow comments from you Hubby bloggers.

Outside JP Licks, Centre Street, Jamaica Plain, on Sunday.

Chris doesn't understand all the lefties getting excited about former Coca-Cola exec Deval Patrick's impending run for governor in the 2006 elections:

... On one side, you have a candidate who's charismatic, experienced and almost tailor made to take on Romney on the reform platform. On the other you have an unknown, out-of-state candidate whose only raison d'etre is that progressives find Reilly too moderate in both style and substance. Look, I find Reilly too moderate, too, and am especially leary of a governor that opposed gay marriage vociferously. I even find his opposition to the wind farm craven NIMBYism. However, there is a time it's useful for progressives to be demanding more from their candidates, and the election after four Republican governors in a row is not that time. ...

Sketch's band played in the Emergenza competition at the Middle East:

...We were the only band composed of 30 year olds (actually make that 33 year olds, and you're a bit closer to the average age of the band). I'm pretty sure we were the only band with a bald dude and a gray haired Arlo Guthrie looking dude rocking the socks off the joint. We were the only band without a screamer or someone spitting water on the audience. But, we rocked the socks off the place, let me assure you. We were the only band that played anything even remotely resembling a "trippy space jam" one minute, and thrashing out industrial-esque noise the next (rocking, as they say, the socks off the joint). ...

Photos

Wish me luck kids. I'm on my way home from work and I need to stop at the grocery store. While Big Dump Truck finds the forecast for Leominster is like an inch of snow, I'm anticipating a few more inches, and need to go buy all the milk and bread I can get my hands on.

Because, you know, they'll never make any more, ever again.

Actually -- we ran out of trashbags yesterday, and there is nothing more ghetto than using grocery store bags. So I'm doomed. I'll have to go deal with the chaos, the traffic, the panic that Harvey and Todd and Kevin instill in all area old ladies. Pray for me.

I was taking the trash out this weekend behind my Cleveland Circle condo building, when I noticed some shelves, a mattress, a bunch of framed prints, a couple of stacks of clothing, all leaning against our trash barrels. In my building, a combination of units that haven't changed much since 1924 and overpriced renovated units housing Longwood transients for a few months at a time, this isn't an infrequent occurrence at the end of the month. At the end of every month since I've lived in Brighton, I've found myself trying to understand the mindset of people who leave a houseful of almost new items for the trash collector when they move. I mean, I'm finally at a point in my life where if I moved, getting $20 for my couch is hardly worth the hassle. But the idea of leaving a perfectly usable item for the landfill is just unfathomable to me when so many nonprofits will come and pick things up with a phonecall or e-mail.

This month it really crossed the line though. As I was glancing at the pile of housewares to see if anything interesting jumped out at me, I saw...

...an iMac.

Yes. There was an actual living breathing iMac sitting out there amongst the boxes and trashbags and furnishings. I actually waited a day before grabbing it, just to see what would happen. I wanted to make sure it had really been placed by the trash, and I also wanted to prove what I suspected, which is that dozens of people would walk by and just leave it there. Which they did. So I grabbed it. I know of several repair places that will give me $200 for the thing on the spot.

What's next, people leaving their old worn-out cash behind the building?

CM reports:

... The brutal visual of commuters riding the subway and reading the Boston Herald does not phase me today.

To my surprise, my neighbor pulls out The Souls of Black Folk from his backpack (Dover edition). His bookmark rests on the chapter, "Of the Training of Black Men."

He looks like an urban hipster whose literary sensibilities would be more in tune with the likes of McSweeney's and The Believer. I can't resist.

"Are you reading Du Bois for a class?" I ask.

"No," he says. "I'm reading it on my own." ...

WUML, the formerly all-student radio station at the University of Lowell, looks to become the public-broadcasting powerhouse of the Merrimack Valley, or something: It's signed former WBUR talking head Chris Lydon to do a one-hour show. You may recall how he left 'BUR in a tiff with then station head Jane Christo over money and control issues. Christo has since left (over, um, money and control issues). Hmm, could 'BUR license Lydon's new show?