Sights and Sounds of Boston

Can I be a roving reporter? It has often occured to me to record the sights and sounds of my daily commute in this, my blog. Today, I waited for the train in the Coop., absorbing the high-brow, intellectual universe of Harvard U. I had my brand new Maureen Dowd "Are Men Necessary?" in hand and was savoring the last few pages of her wit and wisdom when two men in khakis, plaid scarves and blazers sat down next to me. Preppy. Very Harvard, I thought. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but they were close and rather loud. What happened next can only be described as aural and cognitive dissonance. As they started to talk, they sounded more "Boston" than the man announcing the Red Line Stops. They then proceeded to discuss how their wives' new jobs had put a damper on their style. No longer could they come home to a clean house and piping hot dinner on the table. The wives still adored them, but they were now demanding that they (the men) should help around the house; that they could also cook, and, imagine, clean the bathroom too! The one claimed he had started making dinner, but upon questioning it was revealed "dinner" had consisted of a washed and dressed salad and heated canned soup. Even this, was a physical and psychological struggle, they grumbled. Don't they wish their wives could just stay home?
Perhaps they were playing pretend: dressing up to "fit in" as they had coffee in Harvard Square, or presenting a picture of the PC, enlightened male, when they were, in fact, still stuck somewhere in the 50s. Wierd.
I don't even know where to begin, so I'm going to leave it at that. The poor dears!