West Medford Lobsterfest

I wasn't going to go...after previously agreeing to go. That's called reneging, for you law majors. I was exhausted after a long week, and didn't have the energy for such a social event. Of course the missus called me on this, and offered an artful counter to my why-don't-you-just-take-the-kids, with it-doesn't-start-until-later-so... My armor (as well as my argument) was getting weaker. The kids later sneak-attacked me, and that was that.

Now since I didn't know what later meant, I asked my young friend Google to find out when the Lobsterfest began. Instead I found out much more about my historic, West Medford neighborhood, "The Ville", from a Boston Magazine article. I felt like a heel after reading the first few paragraphs. By now my kids had discovered me on the couch reading intently. At that moment I realized that I almost missed an opportunity not only to share with my kids an important part of Black American history, but of their specific history.

I read aloud the rest of the article to them, explaining and answering their questions as I went along. After finishing the article and then some more digging, I found the time-frame for the Lobsterfest. It had already started. We headed off. It turns out the Lobsterfest, this year, was at our end of the The Ville.