The World According to Gillespie

INCONVENIENT TO A T This column originally appeared on Wicked Local When I was a kid my mother bought me the Boston Game, a board game that caused you to playfully navigate the entire color-coded system of the T.   We were in the city quite a bit, and she thought it would be an effective way for me to learn my way around town and potentially how to use public transportation just in case.   The T was an affordable way to travel back then and it was convenient. For short money you could go virtually anywhere in the city. When I finally moved into Boston permanently in 1990, the T was my principal mode of transportation. For years, my former workplace (Marriott Copley) offered employees T passes for $25.00 a month, making it more affordable and more convenient than driving.      But the T has changed.   This past week, I twice dared to take the T into Boston instead of driving, the first day opting to go to the Quincy Adams Station figuring the Braintree parking lot might

SAYING FAREWELL TO JUMPIN’ JOE MASON This column originally appeared on Wicked Local I recently received the sad news that an old friend of mine’s father was gone. “I wanted to let you know that Jumpin’ Joe Mason passed away on Saturday night,” said the text message from his oldest son, Mark. “He had a heart attack last week and fought a good fight.” And with that, my mind spun into a myriad of memories from when we were kids. I had not seen Joe Mason in over thirty years, but I would be remiss if I said that I did not think of him often. In a kind of lifelong déjà vu, I am constantly driving by tucked away baseball fields on the South Shore that I only recognize because Mr. Mason had driven us to a game there at one point, fields in places that I would have trouble finding today even with the assistance of GPS. Joe Mason was one of those people that you assume will always quietly be there, but as we seem to be repeatedly reminded in life, no one can be there forever. Joe Mas