A while back Sluggo and I drove up to Boston for the weekend. I’d always wanted to go there, but now I don’t know why. It’s a pokey little place, full of college kids and Red Sox fans. The best thing about it is a place called Mike’s Pastry that has the best cannoli in the world. Do not write to me and say you know where there’s better cannoli until you taste Mike’s. Then you will know for sure. Overall, the food in Boston is very good and fairly inexpensive, which is lucky because there’s not much to do there except eat. The most fun thing we did was to see a performance by Dheem, a classical Indian dance troupe, that was really outstanding. But we weren’t in Boston to have fun, exactly—we were there so I could be filmed meeting another faceblind person.
When I was still on air at FMU, I mentioned a few times in passing that I have prosopagnosia, also known as faceblindness. For some reason, my fusiform gyrus isn’t hooked up properly and I can’t recognize human faces. This is a very rare neurological disability, and I’ve been participating in a documentary that’s being filmed about it. I’d never met another faceblind person (there are only about 200 of us in the whole world), although I’ve corresponded with some via an e-list. The guy who administers the list is named Glenn. He lives in Boston, and the filmmakers were in Boston, so we decided I’d go up there and meet Glenn in person, on camera.
I was really nervous about it, but it turned out to be okay. Whether it’s because he’s the list admin, or because he lives in Boston where prosopagnosiacs go to get studied by Scientists and Experts at Harvard, Glenn has met plenty of other faceblind folks, so it wasn’t a big deal for him and that helped me calm down a little. Mostly I just wanted to thank Glenn in person for running the faceblind list, because I like knowing there are some other people out there who see the world a little bit the way I do. I like knowing they have the same problems I do at parties, and they don’t see any point in having photos of their loved ones around, and they call people who aren’t faceblind NTs (for Neuro Typicals). I like getting recommendations for movies based on the fact that they have characters I’ll be able to identify all the way through the story. (“Chronicles of Narnia” got good marks for that.)
So Glenn and I met in a coffee shop, and drank some coffee, and he was very nice and a very interesting guy. When I try to remember what he looked like, I think of a sea captain on an old whaling vessel, I guess because of his facial hair or because of what he was wearing that day, and I wonder what he remembers of me. We talked for an hour or two, and were filmed talking to each other, and then the next day it was time to go home.
Sluggo and I drove home the long way so we could go through Fall River. If you remember back when I was the little News of the Dead girl, you might think we went through Fall River to stay at the Lizzie Borden House Bed and Breakfast or something. (The folks there are very nice and the house tour is good, but I don’t really feel compelled to sleep there.) Anyway, that’s not why. We went through Fall River because it is THE MECCA OF ALL ROOT BEER.
This is George’s Root Beer, 2389 South Main St., Fall River, Massachusetts. George makes the root beer himself, from his grandpa’s recipe, and he will tell you all about it if you are polite and really interested in it. The last time we were there he found out we didn’t know what coffee milk was, so he made us some. (It’s a Rhode Island thing, I guess.) I have never had fried clams anywhere else—I don’t have to. I know that George’s fried clams are the epitome of friedclamosity, and no others could ever compare. It’s almost worth driving up to pokey little Boston just to get to make a stop at George’s. Almost.
Thanks for reading my blog post this time, and enjoy your root beer.