Yo, I get all the other tags mostly, but why is greater Boston "the podcast that never returned"?
It’s from the lyrics of the theme song!!!!
Let me tell you the story Of a man named Charlie On a tragic and fateful day He put ten cents in his pocket, Kissed his wife and family Went to ride on the MTA
Charlie handed in his dime At the Kendall Square Station And he changed for Jamaica Plain When he got there the conductor told him, “One more nickel.” Charlie could not get off that train.
Did he ever return, No he never returned And his fate is still unlearn’d He may ride forever ‘neath the streets of Boston He’s the man who never returned.
Charlie is super well known in Boston! I learned the lyrics in school when I was only 6 or 7 and when the MBTA replaced the old trolley tokens with a fare card they named it the CharlieCard. (Hopefully GB always comes back, though!)
Apart from the fact that green bell peppers are sometimes considered “unripe” bell peppers, the difference between red, green, yellow, even purple bell peppers seems to be primarily aesthetic. It is a difference that is markedly surface level yet at once a deciding factor in their usage, and possibly a psychological factor affecting the way our taste buds perceive them, yet unlike the difference between red, green and yellow chillies (if you’ve ever mistaken a yellow chilli or a small red one for a large green one then you would definitely know what I’m talking about) there is nothing fundamentally dramatic about the distinction in their tastes.
I feel like I am the reverse of the multicolored bell pepper concept - whilst I look similar to the kids who have grown up in America and certainly have been told that I have an American accent and sound like I’ve been a longtime participant of American culture, I feel fundamentally foreign. There is sometimes a sensationalist satisfaction with meeting new people here and observing their reaction when I say “I’m from Thailand”, but less fun is the culture shock of actually being from Thailand and adjusting to a world where expectations of what constitutes “fun” in an American residential college are so different. The rumoured party culture has become reality, and every single movie stereotype has been fulfilled despite what others have said to the contrary, and I sometimes feel overwhelmed by the sheer sensory overload of it all.
What I need to become is a bell pepper - a transferrable taste across tongues, adapting to the situation despite awkward differences that sometimes seem insurmountable. It’s a work in progress, but also an act of neccessity.