came from helping with today's training session for Theology doctoral students who are teaching for the first time to find a curious set of messages waiting for me on my answering machine. I'm off to Boston Thursday morning (my apologies to Boston LJ friends: as it looks like I'll not really have any time to come find you) to visit my dissertation director and dissertation subject, Jesuits Michael A. Fahey and Francis A. Sullivan, respectively, at Boston College. I'll be staying with my buddy Erik while I'm there, where he's been chomping at me for months to make this dissertation visit so that we could also visit some of the Revolutionary-era sites in the area, as some reading in Revolutionary-era history has become a bit of a mutual hobby over the last few years. So the weekend had basically been reserved by my host for such activities, with talk about the John Adams papers at the Boston Public Library, the USS Constitution Museum
, Bunker Hill, Lexington and Concord, and such.
So I arrived home to a set of messages from Erik, who had been trying to catch me and get my okay before making a financial commitment on my behalf. Apparently there were a pair of $50 tickets available for us for the Bruce Springsteen concert Sunday night, but the catch was that he needed to move now
. Given that I wasn't answering his messages, he was having to make an executive decision (like John Adams, don't you know) and judge that I was willing to buy them. My initial instinct, to avoid all unnecessary expenses in this end-of-the [school]-year financial crunch then was amended by my instructions to myself in recent years to make a point of taking in more live music, and that I'd never seen Springsteen in concert. This would seem to override the initial reservation, despite my worries about expenses. I haven't heard from Erik yet, so, as far as I know, it's me, Erik and Bruce on for Sunday night. Eat your heart out, Mom.