i made the move (Part IV of IV)

Emotional state for first 30 minutes: kept repeating "Oh God" over and over like a mantra. Emotional state for rest of the day: erratic. There was laughter, there were tears, there were moments of blinding panic. There were moments of telling myself to get a grip and remember that I had been waiting for this day for a long time. There was a moment of telling myself this might well be the biggest thing I ever did, and it would make a great story, and damn I'm cool. That was a good moment; I liked that moment. I am notoriously bad with directions, and I managed to get off course within my first 1 1/2 hours of driving. I wound up getting a little closer to Sacramento than I had intended. At least it gave me an opportunity to send more hateful thoughts towards the Capitol. I found the right road eventually, and went hell-bent for Oregon Territory. I was really looking forward to crossing the state line. I kept a travelogue of my drive across the country, and took a lot of pictures. I went north across Oregon and into Washington to Spokane, then headed east across Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, South Dakota, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana, Michigan, Ontario, New York, Massachusetts (which featured the worst traffic of the entire transcontinental journey), and finally, NEW HAMPSHIRE! I’ve been here two months now, and I can honestly say that, so far, I love it. It’s beautiful, people are friendly, traffic is like a pleasant dream, the architecture is amazing. I’ve met lots of other Free State Project participants, who are an amazingly affable, upbeat and politically active bunch. If you want to fight for liberty, and be surrounded by others who do as well, New Hampshire is definitely the place to be. Hope to see you here soon. ##

i made the move (Part III of IV)

My original plan had been to leave California on Tuesday, May 17, loading up my car the day before, shrieking "Hasta La Vista, Baby!!" in the general direction of Excremento (the state capital) and hitting the road. Sadly, it didn't work out that way. My STUFF (see George Carlin, Theory of: ) seemed to multiply as I packed, so that while the stacks of boxes increased, the quantity of unpacked STUFF remained static. Has a physicist ever studied this phenomenon in depth? I see real Nobel Peace Prize potential here. So on Monday I was in a flurry of packing. My mother stopped by to give me a goodbye hug, and mentioned in passing "Don't go to Yosemite". Actually, that was exactly what I was planning to do. Apparently the melting snow pack was flooding the park and visitors were being evacuated. Now would appear to be a good time to rethink my game plan, from scratch. I pushed my date of departure back to Wednesday May 18. On Tuesday I started loading my car, and it became painfully obvious that there was no way everything was going to fit! Things that had appeared indispensable suddenly became… dispensable. I packed and purged. The STUFF still wasn't going to fit. I would have to make another "one last trip" to my storage shed Wednesday morning (it's not open 24 hours). May 18, Judgment Day, dawned dark and very rainy. This is unusual for the Bay Area in mid-May. I took the last load of leavable STUFF to my storage shed in driving rain, getting the interior of my car quite damp. Some of the boxes were visibly deteriorating. I said teary and painful farewells to family and friends, all of whom had jobs they needed to get to. So I was actually alone for the final loading of my car, which was just as well; I was pretty stressed out. And as the hours ticked by, and it continued to look like there was no way everything was going to fit, I felt increasingly panicked. I wound up leaving behind things I had intended to bring. But after a while, I just didn't care anymore; I wanted to get out of there. At 1:00PM, the power went out, and I had to finish loading my car and walking up and down the stairs in darkness. If I were looking for some kind of cosmic sign to guide me one way or another, I think that would have been a doozy. Fortunately for the Free State Project, I'm not too hung up on cosmic signs! I finally finished loading my car, choked down a bit of cold Zachary's Pizza for fortitude, drove out of the garage (lucky for me someone had used the manual override on the garage door, or I would have had to stay there and see just how long the power outage lasted), and waved goodbye to the high 'scrapers of Oakland, California. Death or Glory! Free State or Bust!! Live Free Or Die!!!

i made the move (Part II of IV)

Election season rolled around, and like other members of the Libertarian Party, I watched my party’s candidate receive a negligible national vote count. But what really disturbed me was discovering the systematic way in which the LP was excluded from mainstream media, preventing many Americans from even being aware that they had more than two choices. Somehow this one thing made me feel more politically insignificant and powerless than anything up to that point. The LP seemed futile. It ALL seemed futile. I really can’t explain what happened next; just one of those mysterious inner tipping points was reached. Nothing had changed within the FSP, or within New Hampshire (unless you count the embarrassing fact that it was one of only two states where the LP presidential candidate wasn’t even on the ballot); but something had changed in me. Perhaps, like the Grinch, my heart grew three sizes that day. My new motto became “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em”, and I rejoined the FSP. And about a month later, I announced to family and friends that I’d be moving to New Hampshire “after the thaw”. It has been a challenging few months. Not only was my family not supportive of my decision to move to New Hampshire, they actively tried to dissuade me. While I knew a few other Free State Project participants from the northern California local group, and had seen Jason Sorens speak at a convention once, I didn’t personally know anyone in New Hampshire except through my online interactions. I had no job leads and so little money left that even making the security deposit on an apartment would be challenging. I hadn’t lived anywhere with snowy winters since I was 6 years old. All of my friends were in the San Francisco Bay Area. But I felt that time was of the essence. I want to see “Liberty In My Lifetime”, and let’s face it, statistically my life is half over already. If it was going to happen, I needed to get busy making it happen. After analyzing my various relocation options, I finally decided to just do it as simply and cheaply as possible. I’d take what fit in my car (a Subaru Outback), and leave everything else behind in storage in California. I settled on a plan to drive fairly directly and quickly across the U.S., but following a northerly route so that I’d get to see several states I’d never been to before and do a bit of sightseeing along the way. I made a second exploratory trip to the Free State in April 2005, and met some other early movers for the first time. Luckily, I had amazingly great weather the entire week I visited; in fact, I got back to California tanner than I had left. I met with two Porcupines who had bought houses in Manchester and had rooms to rent. I figured that was the logical place for a city girl like me to land.

i made the move (Part I of IV)

It's the holidays, I have a cold, and I'm ticked off that Santa didn't bring me what I most wanted for Christmas, due to its release date being pushed back to March: the Elder Scrolls IV Oblivion . (Code faster, you dirty rat bastards!!) Therefore, this blog is showing reruns. What follows is the original version of an essay I wrote back in July entitled "I Made the Move". This version is significantly longer than the one that was previously published on the FSP website. Enjoy!

I Made the Move!

I joined the Free State Project way back in February 2002, as a “glass eater”, meaning one of those zany people who committed to any of the ten states then under consideration. Anything had to be better than California! Alaska was my first choice, but sadly, very few Porcupines were with me on that. My second choice became Wyoming, after reading a lot of excellent information that was posted by other FSP participants on the discussion forum. However, numerous other FSP’ers felt that New Hampshire was the best choice, and we engaged in many heated arguments in what has come to be known as the “Great State Debates”. We laughed, we cried, and some of us kissed good manners goodbye. But it was only because we all cared passionately about the selection of which state would become the Free State. When New Hampshire was selected, I allowed myself about 24 hours to wallow in the bitterness of defeat, then made plane reservations. I made my first exploratory trip (I had never been to New Hampshire) over Thanksgiving weekend, mere weeks after the state announcement on Oct. 1, 2003. My introduction to the state was less than glorious. I had been overconfident in my estimation of how easy it would be to find an open restaurant on Thanksgiving Day; I wound up “enjoying” a magnificent feast consisting of Dunkin’ Donuts, salted peanuts and Slim Jim pepperoni sticks. It was also too late in the season to see pretty foliage, and too early to see pretty snow; I just saw a lot of rain and leafless trees. I spent the rest of the weekend exploring the larger cities while freezing my butt off (did I mention I’m from California?) and marveling at the mysterious way in which NH natives could stand outside in sleety rain, without jackets or umbrellas, without their knees knocking together. Despite the fact that it wasn’t exactly love at first sight between me and New Hampshire, I couldn’t wait to make the move. However, family and school obligations held me back. In the spring of 2004, feeling trapped in a job I hated, I made the risky decision to quit my job and enroll in grad school full-time. This gave me more free time to engage in that beloved libertarian pastime: arguing online with other libertarians about the best way to restore liberty in the U.S. Matters reached a head in the summer of last year when, completely disillusioned and disgruntled over various management decisions within the FSP, I formally quit... [to be continued]

the shortest day

This time of year the days are very short and many of us are extra busy shopping, baking, visiting family and friends, sending out cards. resting merrily, wassailing, bringing figgy pudding... What with all of that, AND moving, and all the Free State Project activities going on, I'm a holly jolly wreck. Last Saturday we had a Holiday Party/Meet N' Greet, partly to welcome a new arrival from Kentucky and partly just because. There was a mountain of food, profuse quantities of alcohol, and a squirming pack of... ferrets. Twelve of them, to be precise! I had been to this house several times and had no idea that the owners run a ferret rescue organization in addition to all of their political activity, and have a basement full of one of my favorite creatures. I was enthralled. Sunday was the second annual U.N. Flag Burn in Robin Hood Park in Keene. I didn't attend myself (flag burning's "not my bag, baby"), but about 20 others did and apparently had a lot of fun making a political statement while roasting weenies on pitchfork tines. There are some great photos of the event. After the burning, the Free Staters adjourned for a birthday party for one of the participants. Last night, there was another birthday party at Jillian's, an enormous bar in one of the old mill buildings by the river in Manchester, with numerous pool tables, big screen TV's and video games. There was a surprisingly large turnout considering it was a weekday evening. One person came directly from manning the polls for a special election in Londonderry, where the candidate who had attended the FSP eminent domain rally at the airport won! I managed to sink two pool balls, which, if you're familiar with my athletic ability (or lack thereof), is reason for merrymaking and tidings of great joy. After the party, I loaded yet more boxes into my car, mostly filled with books. I have a personal policy of moving all my books myself every time I move. I think of the pain of lugging all the boxes as a form of penance, or an incentive to cut back on my purchasing. Didn't work. In fact, on the way from Manchester to Nashua, I stopped at Barnes & Noble and bought another one. I had to, though. There is one book that I read every year, "The Dark is Rising", by Susan Cooper. It's a classic tale of the eternal struggle between good and evil, and I'm embarassed to admit how many years I've been reading it. My worn copy is back in a storage shed in California, and, acutely aware that it was Midwinter's Eve, I felt compelled to obtain another one.

On this, the shortest day of the year, and a chilly one here in the Free State, I leave you with a poem by Ms. Cooper, who lives not far from here in Cambridge, MA:

The Shortest Day

By Susan Cooper

And so the Shortest Day came

and the year died

And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world

Came people singing, dancing,

To drive the dark away.

They lighted candles in the winter trees;

They hung their homes with evergreen;

They burned beseeching fires all night long

To keep the year alive.

And when the new year's sunshine blazed awake

They shouted, revelling.

Through all the frosty ages you can hear them

Echoing behind us - listen!

All the long echoes, sing the same delight,

This Shortest Day,

As promise wakens in the sleeping land:

They carol, feast, give thanks,

And dearly love their friends,

And hope for peace.

And now so do we, here, now,

This year and every year.

Welcome Yule!

"Best Place to Live in America"

For many years I've enjoyed reading Money Magazine's annual "Best Places to Live" issue. I guess it feeds my "grass is always greener" bent, and it's comical to imagine myself living in some of the places it rates very highly. Who would have thought that, because of the Free State Project, I'd wind up actually living in one of those unfathomable locations. Since Thanksgiving I have been gradually moving from "Manchvegas" to Nashua. Nashua is the only city to have been rated "Best Place to Live in America" twice. And it's very proud of that fact; it's printed right there on the "Welcome to Nashua" highway sign. I've been getting some grief from other Free Staters about my decision. As people on both sides of the political spectrum will tell you, Nashua is pretty different from the rest of New Hampshire; some people don't even consider it to BE New Hampshire. It's right on the border with Massachusetts, and is filled with stores and businesses situated here to take advantage of NH's lack of sales and income tax, while still being within commuting and shopping distance of Massachusetts residents (commonly referred to in these parts as Massholes). Although I work in Nashua, most of my coworkers are Massachusetts residents, and *they* give me grief because they think NH is a godforsaken wasteland that doesn't plough its roads properly. Both factions tell me there's nothing to DO in Nashua. I think they're all full of it! I'm now closer to Boston, making it more feasible to go down there for evening entertainment. I'm an easy 20-minute drive from Manchester, where a lot of Free Stater activity takes place. If the price of having better ploughed streets is instituting income tax, I'll take the streets as they are, thanks very much. Nashua has a great, sales-tax-free, mall, and a zillion restaurants, and a charming downtown with several outdoor dining options in the summer. And for a renter such as myself, it has a lot of apartment complexes to choose from. It must be said that NH is a very WHITE state, ethnically speaking, but Nashua is definitely less white than the rest. There are many south Asian immigrants who come here to work for BAE, Oracle and numerous other high tech/biotech companies. They say that some apartment complexes smell so strongly of curry, it'll make your nose bleed. Whatever... spice is the variety of life, right? NH also isn't particularly gay friendly. But Boston is far more cosmopolitan than any place in NH, and being closer to it may improve things on that score. I can tell you that, at my company holiday party (which, by the way, it's OK to call a CHRISTMAS PARTY here beyond the city limits of PC-topia), Patti brought her domestic partner, Maria, while Jeff brought his better half, Ricky, and as far as I could tell, no one batted an eye. It's clearly possible to be openly gay in the Free State.

absolute zero

Southern New Hampshire reached absolute zero* this week; actually, a couple of mornings ago it was -7 F. Last Friday we had the first real snowstorm of the season, and yesterday we had an icestorm. I can now add scraping my windshield to my list of life experiences. The weather is, far and away, the most common excuse I get from people who otherwise think the Free State Project is a great idea, but who refuse to move to New Hampshire. As a person who spent the past 25+ years living in the San Francisco Bay Area, I approached New Hampshire weather with a certain amount of reasonable trepidation. Many people in California warned me gleefully that I would hate it here. What's weird is that, now that I'm here, natives also keep warning me gleefully, or even a tad vindictively, that I'm gonna start hating it real soon now. Thoughts on summer weather: not nearly as bad as I was expecting. Yes, it's hot and humid, and there are mosquitoes. When I first arrived in the state, my hair started falling out in handfuls. I was rather concerned for a while, but I now think I was just shedding. The mosquitoes weren't nearly as bad as I feared; in fact, I was more bothered by them in California! Almost all buildings are air-conditioned here. There were just a few days that were quite unpleasant, where some sort of evil temperature inversion turned the sky dark and dirty-looking while it was stiflingly hot and humid. But most days were, in my opinion, quite pleasant. There's also a palpable feeling of happiness in the air when there's a break in the heat, which happened several times during the summer. Everyone is smiling, cruising around with their windows rolled down. Thoughts on autumn: people said this was not a good year for foliage, but it still looked pretty nice to me. Scuffling around through the fallen leaves provided a guilty, and NOISY, pleasure. The trees looked like they were on fire: red, orange and gold. The smell of wood smoke lingered in the air. Everybody had pumpkins and scarecrows in their front yards. The squirrels scampered like they had a purpose: those nuts had to be hidden, pronto! The chipmunks' cheeks were so bulging with seeds, they looked like they'd mutated. And they were much too focused on the task at hand to bother running away in fear. The nights were cool, but the sun was still warm. And locally-grown apples were so full of flavor, it was hard to believe they're good for you. It was easy to see why fall is many people's favorite time of year here. Thoughts on winter thus far: the human body's ability to adapt is really amazing. I wear the same clothes I wore in the Bay Area, for the most part, only now I wear them when it's in the 20's and 30's outside rather than the 50's and 60's. On days like today, in the upper 30's with bright sunshine, a coat seems like overkill; I just wear a cotton sweatshirt or a wool sweater. When it gets below 20, I do put on my parka, a hat and gloves. The one thing that is bothering me is the dryness; my skin is splitting and bleeding, and I have to make myself slather on lotion multiple times a day. Winter in New England does make you pay respect to Mother Nature, I'll give it that. It takes far more thought and advance planning than I'm accustomed to. It takes time to mince across an icy parking lot without falling on your ass, time to let your car engine warm up, time to scrape ice off your windows, time to drive far below the speed limit on icy roads. You never know when you're going to have to crunch through a bit of snow, so waterproof shoes or boots are a must. Is any of this a big deal? Not to me! If this is the small price I have to pay in order to live in a place that offers me far more freedom and the hope of more to be achieved, I'll pay it gladly. I still think snow is pretty. Sue me!! * I know I'm misusing the term absolute zero. However, due to a quirk in my education, I never had a physics class. I'm combining that excuse with the standard "poetic license" cuz, hey, I just like how it sounds.

fly Manchester

In case you don't know, you can fly in and out of New Hampshire without dealing with the nightmare that is Boston traffic. Manchester has a perfectly good airport featuring daily transcontinental flights. It was also the site of a protest that took place immediately after the Merrimack Valley Porcupines monthly meeting. What prompted the protest was that the city of Londonderry (which is right next to Manchester) is using the power of eminent domain to force 70 city landowners to sell some of their property to the airport. As you probably learned in first grade, it's not NICE to take stuff that doesn't belong to you, and that's pretty much what eminent domain is: government taking stuff that doesn't belong to it. To draw public attention to this situation, and to show support for the abused landowners, the founder of the New Hampshire Underground organized a protest. We let the airport know in advance that we were coming. In response, we received an amusing list of requirements in order to peacefully exercise our First Amendment rights at the airport. They included such things as "activity must be carried out a minimum of six feet from the outermost entrances of the passenger terminal and must occupy only one-half the width of the sidewalk and allow unrestricted access to the building", "Each location may have up to 8 picketers for a total of 16". and "please provide me with a copy of any handouts that you may be passing out". In the immortal words of Dr. Evil: riiiiiiiiiiiiight. The Undergrounders very politely responded that we did not intend to leap through any silly hoops. A good 30 Free Staters, including 6 of the affected Londonderry landowners, converged in front of the airport and braved a chilling December breeze until past sunset, waving signs and handing out informational fliers to passersby. Not only were we not seriously hassled by the airport guards (of which there were an insane number, in my opinion), we were told by at least one guard that he supported our cause! The protest made the front page of the Concord Monitor. Free Stater Russell, aka the "Unidentified Flying Objector", who has previously been arrested at the Manchester Airport and spent a weekend in jail for refusing to show identification to board a flight, returned to the airport completely unintimidated. In addition to exercising his First Amendment rights, he wanted to exercise his Second. Not being a gunny kind of guy, he decided to "openly carry" a large pitchfork. Needless to say, this caused several security guards to raise an eyebrow, and at least one to chatter excitedly into his walky-talky "There's a protester out here with a.. PITCHFORK!" This issue had probably never come up before in the history of the airport, and despite causing a bit of a ruckus, no one could come up with a good excuse for taking the pitchfork away. I carpooled to the airport with Katherine Albrecht, founder of CASPIAN and author of the critically acclaimed book Spychips. On the way home, she regaled us with tales of the creepy things done to her by some of the businesses that she has gone up against in her battles for consumer privacy. I have met so many brave and inspiring people through the Free State Project; it's quite amazing.

down in the valley

Last Saturday we had the regular monthly meeting of the Merrimack Valley Porcupines. An ally from the Coalition of New Hampshire Taxpayers was kind enough to loan us a P.A. system so that we could hear each other over the sounds of fermentation at Milly's Tavern. Due to a scheduling snafu on the part of Milly's management, only one waitress was scheduled to work when the 40-odd of us showed up at noon. But in the true spirit of DIY, our group leader's girlfriend rolled up her sleeves, went into the kitchen, and started slinging burgers and beer to the meeting attendees (I believe she got a free meal and some tips out of it; I sincerely hope she did!!). Meetings generally include a prepared presentation on a local or statewide political issue, and assorted member announcements about upcoming parties, moves, activism opportunities, and plugs for Porcupine-owned businesses. This meeting was no exception. Upcoming social events include a holiday party, a New Year's Eve party, and a Liberty Ladies shooting class in January. John Babiarz, the chair of the New Hampshire Libertarian Party, spoke about the party's current activities, which include a case to be heard by the state supreme court about the different standards to which third parties are held for ballot access. Babiarz takes it as a good sign that the supreme court agreed to hear the case; it indicates that they sense a possible change in public opinion on the issue. If the LP is successful, it could have far-reaching implications for third parties all over the country. FSP'ers were encouraged to pack the courthouse when the case is heard, as numbers matter to judges. I'll be there!!! Two early movers have started their own business: the New Hampshire Sports and Social Club. The idea is to both give people a way to hook up with others for group sports, and for singles to meet and mingle. I love the company logo: a patriotic-looking guy on a horse, hoisting a beer in the air. The first team sport will be dodgeball. Personally, having people hurl balls in a sincere attempt to brain me is not *my* idea of a good time, but hey, if you're into that sort of thing, check out the club! The most significant part of the meeting for me, personally, was when the group leader announced that he is stepping down at the end of the year to free up his time for other liberty pursuits (of which he has many), and I was foolish enough to volunteer to take his place. So beginning next year, I will be leading the group. Seeing as how I have the social skills of a wolverine (or perhaps I should say a fishercat, to put it in local terms) and despise speaking before groups, you might be wondering why I would do such a thing. Well, what can I say? I believe in the Free State Project, and I believe that it is in my own long-term best interest to have it succeed. I don't know if it will, but I do know that I will have done my best to help it succeed, no matter what happens. I have already done things for the FSP that I never would have seen myself doing just a couple of years ago: appeared on television (twice); approached total strangers to talk politics with them; hung a banner on a busy freeway overpass; organized meetings, and lead discussions, when my preference is not just to not lead them, but to stay home and read a book instead. This is a war of sorts, and all those who are willing need to pick up their arms (there are many types of weapons besides guns) and wield them as best they can.

i love that dirty water (Part 2 of 2)

On the second day of my Free State Project mini-break, I did the other half of the Freedom Trail, which includes more points of historic interest, churches and graveyards. I wandered through Faneuil Hall, an old market building that is now full of shops selling souveniric kitsch. Interestingly, almost all of the shopkeepers appeared to be immigrants. What is it about shopkeeping that attracts immigrants, or that doesn't appeal to natives? Perhaps it's the level of personal risk and commitment required that scares away the 'Merican couch potatoes, or the inability to save up enough to buy their own business in the first place. I had lunch in the Quincy Market, which is kind of like a mall food court only much more posh. If you're ever there, I highly recommend the cream puffs!! On the way back to the Free State, I took a detour to the infamous town of Salem. I went to the wax museum, which covers the two biggest parts of the town's past: witch burning and piracy. The witch burning eclipses the piracy in most people's minds, but apparently at one point in time Salem was the busiest port in the U.S. I took a guided tour of the "witch museum" (kind of cheesy, but hey, if you're sightseeing in Salem, what the hell else are you supposed to do??); it turned out to be a private tour, as nobody else was there except for my friend and me. Our tour guide, a practicing witch himself and bearing a disconcerting resemblance to Johnny Depp, was informative and happy to linger over cigarettes after the tour. He said that Salem now has an abnormally high percentage of pagans, witches, etc., due to its status as the unofficial Mecca for such types in the U.S. Take THAT, girl-burning Puritanical a-holes!!! He listed some of the ridiculous things that could have got one burned back in the day, and I noticed that most of them applied to me (different colored eyes, own a black cat, lazy eye, weird, antisocial). Hmmmmmm. Back in the Free State, I took a spontaneous detour to the "Shaker Village", having no clue what that meant aside from a vague notion that Shakers were similar to the Amish and they designed furniture or something. It's an authentic Shaker village, although no Shakers live in it anymore; the last one died a few years back. Frankly, I'm still pretty unclear on what they were all about; they seem to have been kind of like a convent, and took in kids who were orphaned or required fostering for whatever reason. Gotta love the free market alternative to government-run social support! I was too cheap to pay for the tour, but maybe if you take it, you can explain what exactly their deal was. My final stop before returning home was a detour off the detour to the "Smoked Meathouse". The Shaker Village is pretty out of the way and requires following some narrow and, at this time of year, snow-covered roads to get there, but the Smoked Meathouse was *really* out of the way. My friend started gripping the dashboard a wee bit too tightly in response to my cavalier attitude towards taking ever smaller and dicier-looking back roads, following hand-painted signs for unidentified smoked meat. But I was having a great time; finally my investment in an all-wheel drive vehicle was paying off! I must admit, the strains of "Dueling Banjos" went through my mind once or twice, but we did eventually arrive in one piece. The smoked meathouse was quite small but had a variety of meats, interesting smoked cheeses, and truly bizarre flavors of locally brewed soda pop. After stocking up on smoked trout, horseradish cheese, and a maple-flavored soda, I headed back for the Porcupine house.

i love that dirty water (part 1 of 2)

Last weekend I took both a mental and physical "mini-break" (as the English say) from the Free State Project in Boston. Probably the second biggest complaint I hear from would-be migrants to New Hampshire (after the weather) is that there's "nothing to do there". Baloney!! Boston is only a 1 1/2 hour drive from Manchester, or 1 hour from Nashua. Not only does it have every possible big city amenity, it's one of the most historic cities in the country and has lots of free entertainment, in addition to a mind-boggling array of not-free entertainment. I started my adventure by parking in a pay lot downtown; parking prices in Boston are truly heinous. Apparently the city is suffering from the all-too-common misguided policies against building new parking lots/garages, resulting in demand exceeding supply. But once you get on foot downtown, you can cover a lot of ground, sightseeing-wise. The public transit system, the "T", is also excellent, although I never needed to use it on this trip. My friend and I walked half of the Freedom Trail, which passes numerous points of historical interest, including Paul Revere's house, the old North Church (Paul's destination on his historic midnight ride), Independence Hall, from whose balcony the Declaration of Independence was read aloud to the citizens of Boston, and multiple graveyards where such patriots as Sam Adams and Paul Revere are buried. The trail is easy to follow: it's denoted by either a red painted line or red brickwork on the sidewalk. It crosses the Charles River into adjacent Charlestown and splits into alternate end points: Cobb Hill, location of an important battle during the Revolutionary War; and the USS Constitution, an old naval ship that you can board and explore. I've seen the ship before, but had never gone up to the top of the obelisk at the peak of Cobb Hill. The 270 spiralling stone steps damned near killed me. Adding insult to injury, while I was stopped, wheezing for breath, halfway up the tower, a Frenchwoman and her two young children, one of whom couldn't have been more than 3, passed me on the way down. There was no WAY I was going to be shown up by a 3-year-old, so I did eventually drag my lard ass up to the top, where there are excellent views of both Charlestown and Boston. The Freedom Trail goes through the North End, which is Boston's Italian district. Every other storefront seems to be named "Giovanni's", "Luigi's", etc. I had a truly excellent cafe mocha in a small cafe right across the street from one of the several old churches along the trail. That night, my friend and I gorged ourselves at Legal Seafood, a popular seafood chain in the Boston area. I don't even remember now what I ate, only that I ate way too much of it and it was really really good. I do remember what my friend ate, though: a traditional Boston seafood platter consisting of clams, taters and an entire steamed lobster. I happened to have a seat with a good view of the lobster tank, and I was secretly rooting for the more rebellious ones who were attempting to climb out of the tank on the backs of their doomed companions when the cook wasn't looking.