Make Your Boston Vacation Photos More Memorable With the Crab Hat

When I went to Boston recently while visiting friends of mine who lived nearby, one of the first things I did was buy a crab hat. I'd seen the hat already, as Erica had shown me hers, which she'd bought when her sister and niece came to visit. Her niece is seven or eight, so it was a matter of auntly duty to purchase a hat that would inevitably provoke amusement - or at least Erica is at liberty to claim that. I, however, had no such excuse, but as I suspect that she needed none to engage in such extravagant silliness, I shan't hang my head in shame. Even back in Erie, I wasn't blue as I celebrated the 4th of July with this red and white crab hat firmly on my head.

I saw this hat for sale at the store Best of Boston and at least one stand set up in the middle of the walkway around Fanueil Hall Market Place. I did not see anyone else actually wearing one, and throughout the day several people shouted, "Hey, nice hat!" as I walked by. I think some of them meant it, while others no doubt were thinking, "What kind of goofball walks around with a crab on her head all day?" Either way, I didn't mind the comments, and I loved the extra fun touch it added to all of the pictures my friends took of me that day.

The crab hat is a basic felt creation. It has red legs that stick out and two great big white eyes with black pupils suspended above the hat on black felt-covered wires resembling the legs. There are four legs on either side of the eyes. The longest ones are closest to the eyes, and each of these two has a pincher on the end. The remaining three on each side have no pinchers, and the legs get shorter as they get further from the eyes.

The hat has a diameter of about 20 inches, and the strap that wraps around the back is held in place by a piece of velcro. I suppose that with enough re-wearings, this might get worn down, especially if you open and close the velcro frequently, but mine is in terrific shape, and it fits most heads quite well. I made my parents, brother and even dog wear it when I got home, and it stayed in place with no problem, which is more than I can say for the spangly but flimsy wizard hat I bought in Salem, which is too small for most heads and has nothing to anchor it to someone's head.

I bought my crab hat for six dollars. The same amount of money will buy you a lobster hat, which is similarly amusing; it, too, is red, but is more plush and features little eyes on the hat itself, two black antennae and two huge, plush pinchers. According to Epinions, the crab hat is an Oriental Trading product, which surprised me, though upon reflection I guess it looks like the kind of thing they would sell. It goes for six dollars from the catalog, too, so while Boston is an especially appropriate place in which to wear this hilarious headgear, you don't have to go there to buy it. If looking like a goon doesn't make you crabby, yuk it up with one of the zaniest hats around!

Whether You're a Pirate, a Patriot or a Bar-Hopper, Boston Is Tops

I am a Pirate Who Doesn't Do Anything, or so I have been claiming for years. As any die-hard VeggieTales fan will tell you, the most important criterion for being a member of this exclusive club is that one can truthfully state, "I've never been to Boston in the fall." This week, I veered dangerously close to relinquishing my title, but a season stood between me and certain pirate productivity. I have now been to Boston, but not in the fall.

The city of Boston intrigued me long before I became a VeggieTales fan. It's steeped in history and culture; the site of the Boston Tea Party and Paul Revere's Ride, the air is thick with patriotism. It's the setting of Cheers, a show I enjoyed, which gave rise to Frasier, a show I adored, and it's the hometown of Major Charles Emerson Winchester III on M*A*S*H, my favorite show of all. Then, of course, there was the Kingston Trio's harrowing tale of the man named Charlie who rode on the MTA and never returned, and the sneaking suspicion that I would never really be able to say I'd eaten clam chowder until I'd gobbled a bowl from Boston.

Yes, there's a lot to see there. And I only dipped my toe in the stream during my visit with my friends Erica and Art, who have worked in Boston and lived in the greater Boston area for two years. Nonetheless, for a short trip, I saw a great deal, starting with the moment when I got off the train and found myself studying the nearby buildings on the sidewalk above, trying to get my bearings. On our way out of town, my hosts pointed out several buildings, but what made the biggest impression was the traffic, which inched along in the aftermath of a game at Fenway Park, though every once in a while a driver got gutsy and tried to do some ill-advised passing, and now and then the guys in the next lane over, all decked out in their Red Sox regalia, bellowed something unintelligible. That was a Wednesday night. When they drove me into town on Sunday morning, the situation was entirely different, as the roads were virtually deserted, leaving me plenty of opportunity to peer out the window to drink in such sights as the college campuses where Art and Erica teach and an array of unique statues and signs. We also stopped at a coffee shop where I got a dose of the creativity of some artsy locals; on the walls were drawings for sale, and the tables themselves were works of art, each decorated with a different theme.

But the main event in terms of Boston sight-seeing occurred on Thursday, the first full day of my trip. This was when we devoted the bulk of one day to wandering around town on foot, soaking in as much as we could before the clouds looming ominously overhead burst and soaked us. Parking in Boston is expensive; we found a garage right near Faneuil Hall Market Place with day rates of $36, which was pretty typical; by comparison, the top rate at our parking garage in the heart of Salem was $12. Speaking of which, if you're in the area for a few days and plan to go to both places, I'd save most of your postcard-buying for Salem. The cheapest ones I found in Boston were 40 cents a piece, whereas in Salem they're readily available for 20 cents each, and you'll find most of the same ones. Ones that I couldn't find in Salem included Cheers postcards, available from the official gift shop, and cards featuring the statues erected in commemoration of Robert McCloskey's Make Way for Ducklings. In general, however, if you're planning to buy a big stack, you might want to hold off on all but a couple of specific designs.

Faneuil Hall is a massive shopping area reminding me of Portobello Road, described in the Disney movie Bedknobs and Broomsticks as a place containing "anything and everything a chap can unload." While there were quite a few free-floating vendors, though, most of the shopping was more stationary, with permanent storefronts for every taste. There were the traditional souvenir shops, of course; probably my favorite of these was Best of Boston, which featured a wide array of t-shirts, local confections, bells, shot glasses and anything else you might want to bring home. If you don't mind a few funny looks, I highly recommend purchasing either a crab hat or a lobster hat - or both. They run six dollars a piece and are wonderfully goofy-looking, making fun vacation photos even more memorable. Although I didn't end up buying anything at Newbury Comics - where visitors are greeted by Zoltar, that troublesome magician responsible for the transformation in Big - we probably spent more time in that store than any other, and I found about 50 things I wouldn't have minded getting. I discovered on this trip that comic book stores are my downfall. Whatever yours is, you'll no doubt find plenty of opportunities to empty out your wallet. For an idea of what to expect, you can check out www.faneuilhallmarketplace.com.

In the midst of this bustling marketplace, a distinctive sign jumps out at the casual wanderer: Cheers. This is the eatery that replicates the layout of the famous bar "where everybody knows your name." We arrived in the early afternoon and didn't have to wait to get inside. Not quite ready for lunch - and suspecting that prices at such a novelty restaurant would be steep - we opted to have a drink at the bar. Art, a connoisseur of brews, was impressed by the Samuel Adams Boston Brick Red, which the bartender told us is only available around Boston. Erica and I quenched our thirst with a couple of tasty root beers bearing the Cheers label. My 12-ounce root beer cost $2.50, which I didn't think was too exorbitant, especially since I took the bottle home as a souvenir. Scattered around the bar area as well as the gift shop are several cardboard stand-up characters just screaming "photo op!" You can cozy up to Sam, Diane, Woody and Carla, and Norm twice. I was a little disappointed that my favorite characters, Frasier and Cliff, were not anywhere to be found, but I was happy to ham it up with the rest of the gang. At the gift shop, I purchased a few mementos, including a postcard (as I recall, I only bought one because they were a dollar each) and a Cheers canteen keychain.

Erica had found a map directing us from this Cheers to the one where the exterior shots from the show were filmed, so we decided to continue our journey in that direction. All we had to do was follow the Freedom Trail, a thick red line on the sidewalk leading past several historically significant stops. As we passed numerous gregarious tour guides in 18th-century garb, we saw the State House, Old City Hall and the Granary Burying Ground, where we found the graves of Paul Revere, Samuel Adams and Ben Franklin's parents. Among the statues we saw, some of the most interesting were the monuments to the victims of the Potato Famine and the impressive statue of Ben Franklin, though my favorite series of statues commemorated Make Way for Ducklings with a mama duck trailed by eight ducklings. This creation by Nancy Schon is located in Boston Public Garden, a gorgeous park that is the site where the mallards in the book choose to raise their brood. Both before and after Erica snapped some pictures of me with the ducks, we spotted families with young children doing the same. There was even an infant small enough to perch on one of the ducklings. This seems to be a very popular attraction for youngsters. From this point, it didn't take us long to get to "Cheers", which is actually called the Bull & Finch pub. We took a few photos outside but didn't go in; while we'd only covered part of the Freedom Trail, we were tired out from our exertions, and as it started to rain before we got back to the marketplace, we decided to make for my friends' favorite Salem restaurant instead of meandering Faneuil Hall trying to decide where to eat. Technically, then, I didn't eat clam chowder in Boston, but I figure Salem is close enough. It certainly was excellent.

If you want to get an extensive Boston experience, you don't have to spend a lot of money. While there are plenty of attractions - such as the Duck Tours, which show Boston by land and by sea; the guided walking tours; and several museums - that charge admission, nothing we did cost us anything. Of course, parking is an expense for which you must plan, and I defy anybody to escape Faneuil Hall without a few souvenirs. (A word to the wise - though the wise would probably never consider this anyway: Don't bother with the lobster claw harmonica. It was sealed in plastic, so it wasn't until I got back to Erie that I discovered that I could barely get a sound out of it. Oh, well; it was only three bucks, and it will look fun on the piano...) But you don't need to participate in the expensive tourist stuff to get the most out of your trip. As for me, for a Pirate Who Doesn't Do Anything, it seems to me I did a lot.

Robert McCloskey's Quack-tastic Tale a Delight for Duck Lovers

Yesterday was the warmest, brightest, sunshiney-est day we've seen in Erie for quite a while, so when I got a phone call from my brother, who attends college half an hour away, I wasn't surprised to hear that he was outside enjoying the nice weather. His way of drinking in the beauty of the day was to sit by a large pond near his dorm and idle away the minutes watching the ducks. "There are geese here too," he confided, "but I just have a real soft spot for ducks." So much so that his current profile picture on Facebook shows only his outstretched hand and an insistent duck flapping up to snatch the pellets in his palm.

I'm not sure if he ever read Make Way for Ducklings, but I know he'd like it. This Caldecott Award-winning book by Robert McCloskey has been charming children and adults alike for six and a half decades. The sepia-tone drawings are richly detailed, particularly the various landmarks around Boston, the kindly policeman Michael and the feathery Mallard family that starts out as just the Mrs., whose idea of what constitutes a proper nesting ground is more limited than her husband's.

She's very firm on this matter, and rightly so, for she's about to bring a beautiful brood into the world, all downy feathers, stubby wings, waddling feet, bright eyes and smiling beaks. Graceful in flight, cozy while nestling, indignant when vehicles get too near, proud when bystanders compliment her ducklings, the determined mama is the star of the story, the momentum behind the marvelous sequence of events, particularly after her husband goes off for an expedition and requests that she meet him a week later in the park, which is nearby but can't be reached on foot without running into a couple of roads.

I do think, however, that Michael is my favorite character. He's a large enough figure to be imposing as he strolls around with his night-stick with his chest puffed out. But he uses his authority to protect the lives of these small, noisy citizens, bringing traffic to a halt so the nine ducks can cross safely into the park. He looks like such a nice man as he stands there with one hand up and a whistle in his mouth, calmly directing the befuddled drivers. His precautions come at some inconvenience to himself, too, as he rushes along, huffing and puffing to reach the corner where the Mallards are quacking at the cars and then off to call the station for another escort into the park itself.

The text is very readable, with plenty of dialogue to add variety to the narration. Mr. and Mrs. Mallard exchange some words with each other, and later the police and various townspeople comment on the duck promenade. The most memorable "talking", however, comes in the form of quacking, which is done most enthusiastically by Mrs. Mallard and her eight ducklings, all of whose names end in "ack". I don't think there are many words that will cause consternation, except perhaps for a few place names and the phrase "all of a dither," whose meaning should be clear by the agitation Mrs. Mallard displays in the accompanying sentences and illustration.

Duck lovers of all ages should have a quacking good time with this classic tale that encourages consideration for our fellow creatures. In fact, I think I will recommend it to my brother right now...