It’s a balmy 55 degrees in Southie today. Soon enough, the wrinkly wall-sitters with the uber-tans will be out in front of the rink again, five-year-olds will be kicking empty cans of Natty Ice around the Marine Park playground, and we’ll be day-drunk, waiting in a crowd at Sully’s for onion rings as mothers glare dispprovingly at us for smelling like whiskey. Continue reading →