Diggin’ In The Crates-Boston:
How was it?
When a friend who decides to sleep in instead of get up at dawn to go surfing asks you this, you tell him it was great. Even if it was miserable. Even if you sat out in the lineup being buffeted by a cold onshore wind, trying to find just one wave to ride in so you could get the hell out of there. You tell your friend it was great because it could have been. Everything could have come together perfectly. And he didn’t give it that chance.
If someone asks you this about a period of time, like Boston in the early nineties, the tendency is to do the same thing. To say it was great. But it wasn’t. It was at times. At times there were months on end where literally every day contained something new that
was discovered, or created, or learned. And at other times it was downright depressingly awful.
But everyone got out of bed for it. No one slept in. We were all together. And there was magic in that.