Last night Shelly and I watched "Fever Pitch," the romantic comedy about the Red Sox. Of course, this movie was big news when it came out last year, when we were living in the Boston area. Everyone was excited to see it and relive the whole Red Sox World Series thing. We were excited from the moment the leads started kissing in midfield when it actually happened. We were intrigued by stories of how it had to change its ending when the Red Sox actually amazingly won. We wanted to see it just to be a part of Red Sox Nation.

But we didn't. We're too cheap to pay to see a movie, and it never showed up at the Cambridge Public Library. (Wonder why.) So we just borrowed it from some friends who own it and watched it last night.

I found I was smiling the whole way through the movie, and I've been thinking (good things) about it all day today. I don't, however, think this happened because of the great acting, story, or technical merit of the movie. Rather (and I think Shelly will concur with me on this one) I really liked this movie because it made me miss Boston.

Boston is gorgeous in "Fever Pitch." Plenty of shots of the River Charles with skyscrapers and sailboats. The Citgo sign over Fenway Park. The Esplanade. The Hancock and Prudential Towers (once, even a shot of the reflection of the Prudential Tower in the windows of the Hancock Tower). The Common. The "Reverse [the] Cur[s]e" sign on Storrow Drive. Harvard (just an aerial of the Memorial Church--this movie is really about Boston, not Cambridge). Commonwealth Ave and the Back Bay. The Paul Revere statue. Shelly and I kept pointing out sites we'd been to and recognized, and it brought back a lot of memories.

I've been singing "Dirty Water" to myself all day long ("Aw, Boston, you're my home!") and missing the three years I spent up north.

Of course, the movie focuses on the glamour. I chuckled when our hero runs outside in his bare feet in March to meet the UPS man delivering his season tickets--not because he was so daring to go outside in bare feet when there's still a little slush on the ground, but because I was in Boston in March 2004, and there was not just a little slush on the ground. There were three feet of snow on the ground.

But I got wistful. Don't get me wrong. DC is a wonderful place, and I would truly rather be here than Boston. But I don't think I know of a place with more personality than Boston, and "Fever Pitch" reeked of Bostonness (biggest complaint: there should have been more characters with Boston accents). DC has no such personality.

Far too often when people ask me how I liked Boston, I'll tell them my top two gripes: the weather and the roads (Shelly's close third would be the Democrats). But I'm going to make a goal not to do that anymore. Watching this movie (and not having to drive in the tangled maze of streets or literally shovel snow off the windshield of my car) made me remember all the good things I liked about Boston. It's really a great place.

And it wasn't until last night that I realized something. I miss Boston. I genuinely miss it.