Day 79: The Tam

A dear friend (M.) who I met through Calliope chose to celebrate her "double-butts" birthday (her terminology, not mine!) at The Tam.  I've no idea what in the world a "tam" is (except isn't sort of a muff thing for your hands from the Victorian era? or maybe a parasol or hat or something? hmm...) but I love that place. Ok, I have just looked it up, and apparently it is short for "tam-o'-shanter", which is perhaps an even better word, and m-w.com tells me it is "a woolen cap of Scottish origin with a tight headband, wide flat circular crown, and usually a pompon in the cente."  In that case, I approve, and am very glad that M.'s affinity for the good ol' Tam still abides -- the story goes that she and her friends frequented it in their Emerson days (it's next to the theater district).

Over the course of the evening I was trying to remember the circumstances that first brought me to the Tam.  I remember who it was with (a bunch of the MIT crew, including my former boyfriend, my former roomie, and surely more of our old motley crew), when it was (give or take a few months), what we did (playing cards, their deck, not ours), and that it was fairly spontaneous.  But I don't remember exactly how we came to find it - perhaps just wandering in?

It always makes me smile to see this place -- it's extraordinarily divey - next to all of the ballets, musicals, etc. that happen in the area.  The opera house is not far, and it's right next to the Boston Common.  Boston of course is known for its Irish pubs, but this place really does _not_ have that feel.  Too little wood and too many random pictures on the wall in too disorganized a fashion.  Perhaps someone else can pin down for me exactly what it is about the Tam that is so damn charming -- for I cannot.