On June 15, 2011, the Boston Bruins won the Stanley Cup.  They hadn’t won the thing in 39 years and a win is always nice for this sports crazy city.  Of course no sports victory would be complete without Bostonians wearing some kind of weird costumes and getting their dog involved.  I mean this is almost a given.

Now please don’t leave any angry comments here, but I am a Red Sox fan, a Celtics fan and a New York Rangers fan.  I am always happy when Boston wins, but I really want to see the Rangers win it all again.  When I was in high school, I’ll never forget watching Mark Messier lifting the Cup after the Rangers won.  Well, one day.  One day.

I couldn’t go to the Rangers celebration because digital cameras weren’t invented yet, believe it or not I wasn’t a photographer yet and of course, I had to take my French final.  Yes, that is how long ago that was.  Well, for the Rangers celebration I didn’t get to enjoy and for the Bruins fans out there, the celebration.  All the celebrators:

I am a child of the 1980s.  The 1980s were a great time to be a kid.  Sure the 1960s had the Beatles, the 1970s had all kinds of tightly panted teen idols, but the 1980s had:

1. The Rubik’s Cube.

2. Cabbage Patch Dolls

3. Garbage Pail kids

4. Scratch and Sniff

5. MTV, when that channel actually played music

6. Michael Jackson, then Prince, then Michael Jackson

7. Culture Club

8. E.T.

9. The Golden Girls

10. Laurence Tureaud, better know as Mr T.

Mr T is and was a larger than life figure.  Gold chains, haircut, take no crap from anyone attitude, the man is and was an institution.  And someone who children of the 1980s love.  Mr. T’s ersatz doppelganger lives right here in Boston and pities the fool who isn’t a Bruins fan.  Of course he attended the reveling today:

A secret desire that he or she only reveals to themselves late at night when they are alone with their own thoughts.  Something that they don’t dare to dream about.  Something they don’t even share with close friends.  Does it have to do with the collective triumph of a particular sports team?  Well, possibly.  But that desire runs deeper.

That desire lives in the form of a costume they keep in the back of their closet.  A costume reserved for a special occasion.  Perhaps a once every 40 year occasion.  Perhaps an occasion involving running.

On June 15, 2011 the Boston Bruins captured the Stanley Cup, their first in almost 40 years.  On Saturday, June 18, 2011, three gentlemen looked in their closet and realized their deepest most secret desires could now be fulfilled.  It was time to go out wearing this:

I’m not an expert, but I do believe that these are special Mexican wrestling outfits.  Very chic.

I got some individual portraits as well:

This last one with the dog was kind of a gift from God:

Lately my friends have told me I have a photographing style.  A style all my own and that they like it.  I don’t even know what to call this style.

I can say what I do like.  I like lines, the sharper the better and the more capture moment the whole thing is, the better.  I’m getting better at taking posed photos, but I like captured moment stuff.  And I love contrast.  Boy do I ever love contrast.  I believe all photos can be improved by moving the contrast all the way up.  And then compensating in other ways.

My style.  I guess:

It is a tradition in most big cities to go to the top of a large structure and take photos.  However, I’ve found that going to a slightly smaller structure produces greater results.

Today I visited the Boston Customs House.  The internets tells me that it is a place where once customs on goods were collected. It is of course now a hotel.  Not as bad as the former Boston Latin School being converted into a steak house and still accessible to us plebes.  Also, the roof has a quite lovely observation deck that you can visit for a mere $3.

Boston doesn’t stun with its beauty, I’ll be the first to admit, but the views that can be pretty great.  I mean does this not bring to mind a touch of the classic, a smidge of Gotham:

And it doesn’t look to bad in insanely bold colors either:

Closely watched people.  Closely watched trains.

Doesn’t this thing kind of look like an eye?:

I heard once that it is a natural, human thing to look for human like characteristics in non-humans.  This thing above, I believe it may be non-human.