(*Photo:Gail@Large)

"...a city still built and predicated, I think, on keeping us apart. My old Boston -- the real one, outside my childhood cocoon -- still exists in form and attitude and fears of the unknown. There is terrible urban violence, and it has racial and geographical distinctness, and the reasons are too deep-rooted to be tidily resolved at the end of a column. I'm willing to cycle through the new Boston, but I still haven't figured out how to confront it. I'll never truly make it home until I do."

I was floating around the internet, when I decided to check up on the blog of an old college aquaintance, Judd. He posted a link to an interesting memoir written by the Boston Globe's film critic Ty Burr; the quote from above is a part of that piece that I particularly resonate with in my own ways. While I'm not from Boston, I hope for anyone who grew up on the East Coast to find some truth and similarities to their own lives in that article.

-J. Updike Carryout