Super Bowl Sunday

The smallest things can be the biggest indicators.

When I learned that the New England Patriots were going to the Super Bowl, I was not surprised and not interested.

But as soon as a friend told me that the Philadelphia Eagles was the other team, I got excited and decided to root for them.

It's no secret that I have not been happy in Boston--it's not you, baby, it's me--but the instinct (it wasn't even a decision) to root for the other team got me thinking about my relationships with other cities, and how it has worked out between me and others.

Philly is sentimental and sensitive--at least, according to this link that a friend sent me today--and thus much more suited to my INFP than stoic and traditional Boston.  I did have an affection for the City of Brotherly Love.  It just sort of exists, with its old buildings silently looking on as new issues unfold, and you can visit and enjoy it without being asked anything in return.

It's much quieter and sparser than New York, where bustling energy borders on chaos but is contained within the grid of the streets.  New York welcomes ambition and creativity in the way stretches on for miles and never goes to sleep--and in its soaring skyscrapers.  The blue sky is the limit.

Boston, by contrast, is older and more conservative.  Ironically, that also means that it has newer skyscrapers than New York--they waited a few decades to make sure the towers didn't collapse in other cities before attempting building their own.  It also has circular roads and one-ways, making driving confusing and walking quite indirect.  Perhaps its citizens make up for this by being forthcoming and honest.

If there's anything I've learned about Bostonians, it is that they are reliable and trustworthy.  Not a bad thing when one lives and works here, I suppose.  But not something that makes them fun and exciting to be around.  They are also quite unable to understand when someone expresses a dislike for their city.  They lack the self-awareness of New Yorkers who love to hate their concrete jungle, and they have so much unconditional pride in their sports teams that it goes without saying who you should root for.

Well, this is my way of not conforming to Boston culture in a tangible way.  I'm rooting for the Eagles, and of continuing to maintain my individuality in a city that collects and then colonizes those  within its reach.