A couple of deals before dawn
I had to put a letter in the mail, so after that was accomplished,
spatch and I walked around our neighborhood for several miles. We met two pedestrians, one bicyclist, one cat, two rats, and five or six rabbits; the air smelled like rain because of the sprinklers on Broadway, but then we lost ourselves in a one-way maze of small streets that seemed left over from a combination of streetcar suburb and company town jarred with very new construction, including scraped-off lots a-building. We found our way out via the bike path. Neither of us has any idea of when lovers have started fastening locks to the chain-link of the bridge over the tracks at Cedar Street, formally known as the Peter G. Piro Memorial Bridge. Rob photographed me by some rhododendrons.

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company town
I don't know if there is any sensible way to make the company be Harvard and MIT, even though Somerville provided grad student housing for many decades. Arthur's joke (based on actual data?) was that more Nobel prize winners had lived in Somerville than in any other single city. Including Obama.
If you had asked me what song Obediah Masterson was singing, I would have said "My time of night" (always in Peter Gallagher's voice, although the first time I heard it was presumably when it was the musical in my high school one year). My memory is so faulty.