In Boston, August is the kindest - rather than the cruelest - month; indeed, if a month could win "Best of Boston," it would be August, hands down. In fact the city's old hands know to vacation in July, because once the summer terms end, not only are all the students gone, but the damn professors are, too. And suddenly the city is transformed: parking spaces open up, the highways aren't clogged, the T isn't jammed, and Boston becomes bizarrely livable (along as you're not a neighbor of the Talaat brothers, that is). These days there's still theatre, too - plus Restaurant Week (which, alas, ends today). If only there were no Red Sox home games, everything would be perfect; even as it is, however, August is heaven, and enough to make you wish that everybody could just go to college over the Web, like they do in Phoenix. Wouldn't that be nice? For the money to roll into town without the actual student population showing up? Sigh . . . oh, well! It all ends this weekend, and with a crash; Mother Nature herself plans to have a good cry over the passing of my favorite month.
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