LOS ANGELES — The day before I left for Los Angeles was what passes for warm in Boston, which means hoodies and layers instead of puffy coats and down. The snow mounds had melted down to their sooty essence, eroding into impossibly grotesque monuments to the nightmare we had all endured these past few months. People who had removed "getting fresh air" from their list of priorities met in Davis Square and acted like spring was finally upon us. It wasn't. It snowed again on Monday. Another...
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