Burning through shoe leather is more than a metaphor for diligent reporting. I came to Cambridge wearing a brand new pair of sneakers. Before I fly home Friday, I will lay them to rest. I won’t mourn them though. My sneakers served their purpose.
Over the last few weeks, I’ve met some interesting characters around Cambridge—a music store owner without a filter, a history concentrator with an eidetic memory and a pizzeria clerk who makes the best subs. If I were to search for these folks on Google Maps, I would find them on different sides of town.
Their relative proximity made taking the “T” impractical. Hubway bikes didn’t look comfortable. Moreover, the Harvard shuttles have proven as elusive as an Indiana ice cream truck in June.
Walking offered the only option for me to meet them, and I’m glad I did.
Each person helped make this summer memorable. One of these characters proved to be a highly-entertaining source for this class. Our conversations often involved the word “crap.” Another Cantabrigian regaled me with theories about the homogenization of modern Ukrainian culture. I also found out what “quotidian” means. The third still makes sure I eat a palatable dinner. I no longer need to microwave like champion while he’s around.
In the end, wearing out my sneakers was a good thing. I would be a lesser person if they were still brand new.