It's not so much the geographical accident of birth that makes me consider the Boston area my true home, it's more of a mindset. There's a passion, a caring, that manifests itself in odd ways and is often mistaken for callousness. Sure it's a tough place to live. Always has been. But it's also a place where people come together and fight for a common goal in a way that I haven't seen in other places.
That mindset, which goes all the way back to the birth of our country, is why Boston so celebrates it sports, for what are sports if not organized battles against outsiders? A little less than a year ago, I went back home to the Boston area for my Dad's funeral. I haven't lived in the East for almost 30 years, and my Dad had spent the last 7 years of his life with us in Utah. So, we hadn't been back in a while. But the support we found there blew us away.
Last week, when the scumbags bombed the Boston Marathon -- an act that I find so repulsive that it takes me post shock and straight into the kind of pure white anger that makes me want to hurt someone -- Boston responded in a way that makes me proud. It pulled together, stopped all non-essential activity, and focused on getting the guys who did it. Then they got them and the town came together in the cathedral of Fenway Park to remember the lost and celebrate the victory over terrorism. Neil Diamond, a native New Yorker but adopted son of Boston, sang "Sweet Caroline": "Hands touching hands, reaching out, touching me, touching you..."
Boston will not cower. If you mess with it, it will shut down everything and take you out. That's a mindset I can get behind.