JonGorey.com

I’ve written about this before – how an excess of choice can actually be more crippling than freeing. No place embodies this concept quite like the free will bonanza that is Faneuil Hall in Boston. If you don’t live here, or have somehow managed not to visit the 2nd most famous tourist attraction in a city chock full of tourist attractions, Faneuil Hall is an all-pedestrian shoptropolis/engine of commerce in the heart of the city. It is perhaps the most shining success story in the mixed bag that was 20th-century urban renewal. Inside the main building is an extreme food court, a long corridor with vendors hawking just about every food imaginable at a pretty good mark-up. A hungry luncher ambling down that hallway usually wears the same expression as a 7-year-old at Toys ‘R’ Us on December 23. The possibilities are tempting and limitless. Which is why, after you’ve made your decision, found a free table, and eaten your lunch amongst the bustle… you...

Well hey there! It's been awhile, eh? I hope you’re enjoying your summer! And it sure is summer. Around this time last year, after the second rainiest June on record, we were still wondering where the hell summer was. (Just futzing around in 2010, apparently.) Now, I love the 15-hour days and 75-degree nights of midsummer. But I am a fair-skinned, sweaty fella. (As I type, I am the color of a savory, boiled crustacean, and just as drippy.) I don’t do well in the obscene heat and relentless sunfire. In fact, last summer, just when it finally started to warm up, me and the missus escaped to Ireland -- where we were able to wear sweaters and jeans and drink tea under a murky grey sky. It was glorious. (I believe at one point I said, “Suck it, 95 degrees!”) All this is to say that a friendly pub and a good pint know no off-season. So if you feel like ducking out of the sun’s scorching rays for a bit this Thursday evening, stop by the Irish Village in Brighton, where my friend Edg...