The 89/93

Sometimes, when I stay up really late, I see the 89/93. The 89/93 is a bus that doesn't make any sense.

The 89 is a bus that runs from Clarendon Hill, Somerville to Sullivan Square, Boston. The 93 is a bus that runs from Sullivan Square to Downtown Boston. Both of these buses start running around 5:20 a.m.

Once in a while I have a weekend visitor and we are sitting here in Teele Square, drunk off our asses, at around 4:20am. We will see an OUT OF SERVICE bus heading down Broadway eastbound, then returning westbound with 89/93 on its route indicators. This bus exists on no public MBTA schedule, and it rolls through Teele Square an hour before either the 89 or the 93 start running.

Sometimes, I am sitting here riffling through photos I want to post or working on song lyrics at, you know, 1 or 2 am. It is always under these circumstances that I remember the few times I saw this 89/93. Does it really exist, and, if so, what purpose does it serve...especially if no one knows about it? Should I stay up and see if it returns? Going to bed seems like conceding all types of defeat.

Ed the Republican

C. and I sit down to dinner at the 99 Restaurant in Assembly Square. Unlike most national chains, the restaurant is impeccable and the floor sparkling. Soon after ordering, an older divorcee takes the open stool next to us. Before long, conversation happens. He's a republican. Ballots in multiple languages are an affront to his patriotism, since John Quinzy Adams made English the national language in 1786. The liberals want to build low income housing in Assembly Square and move the T stop to the projects so the welfare moms won't have to walk so far to the train. He knows a great bar in Bimini--it was featured in a famous thriller. He made his ex-wife become a Marlins fan after she abandoned Boston, her children, and the Red Sox. He rents out property in New Hampshire, the "live free or die, motherfucker state" and when his international student tenants lit charcoals in the gas grill, he showed up wearing a .45 to yell at them. The last mayor of Somerville, a liberal's liberal, tried somehow to cancel out his concealed carry permit but political connections prevailed. I'm not sure if he is packing heat at dinner, but I don't want to ask.

As I work through my turkey tips and 48 ounces of IPA, I think: I shall refer to Ed as my new Parrothead friend. Sailing the Virgin Islands and hanging out at the shooting range. It just fits.

When he gets up to leave, he puts on a dark green bomber jacket that had been draped over his stool. Three logos adorn the jacket: one on each sleeve and one on the back. All include Jimmy Buffet's name.

Somehow satisfied, my perpetual hopeful hopelessness justified, I leave. C. and I plot an awesome urban exploration of abandoned Assembly Square, chug Jim Beam in East Somerville, drink more at the Cantab. After all that, I finally get home to write this up, having traveled many miles using nothing but public transit and my own two feet.

East Somerville Bubble Wrap

Remember the simple joy of popping bubbles of air trapped in cellophane? In East Somerville, the locals have a slightly more sinister approach to stress relief.

Just minutes ago, while waiting for the 89 bus, my brother and I witnessed two young, heavily inebriated locals come acros a discarded mattress on Broadway. One, wearing plaid shorts, drew a boxcutter, got down on his knees, and began tearing the mattress apart. Broad blade strokes ripped into the covering, much of which the perpetrator tore off with his bare hands. Disturbed, his companion slowly backed away and moved in the direction of Khoury's State Spa, the "oldest bar in Somerville," famous for stabbings and men's room hand-to-hand drug deals. As his companion slunk away, the boxcutter wielder tore deeper into the mattress, ripping out pieces of yellow foam and throwing them on the sidewalk.

Soon, he noticed his friend had left him. PAUL! PAWWWWL! GET DA FUCK BACK HEA! PAWWWWL! GET DA FUCK BACK HEA! Even more enraged at being left to destroy the mattress alone, he put his back into his labor and the blade of the boxcutter soon snapped off, clinking onto the sidewalk.

Our protagonist paused for a second to bring out a new segment of blade, then went back to his anointed task, just cutting and tearing and ripping and stabbing on a cool late summer night.

This continued for several minutes. Eventually, someone came out of the house, stood menacingly on its porch, and told the young psychopath to get lost. Dejected, he trundled up Broadway to Khoury's and met some friends out front.

Second Return of The Sidewalk Job From Hell

They're baaack. Constant destruction and re-pouring of this corner started before I moved into the neighborhood last July. That's right: this sidewalk job has been going on for over a year. This morning we see one man doing the work, three watching, and--my favorite--the "police detail" officer also watching.

I welcome anyone's attempted explanation of why anything in the photo is necessary.

Preteen Invasion

Yesterday I found a crowd of about two dozen Asian preteens outside my living room window. They appeared to have a young, Caucasian counselor leading them around Teele Square. Tonight, in Davis, a troupe of chain-smoking young teens who said they were from Spain sat within inches of my head--I was reading Joseph Conrad's The Secret Agent on the skylight roof of the subway station (how Somerville). When their charge-type person, a late thirtiesish lady in a white dress, came to retrieve them, they followed her up College Avenue, many lit cigarettes still in hand. What the hell is going on?

Sidewalk Job from Hell, Year Two

Remember the city sidewalk job outside my apartment that took five months to complete last year? Last Friday at 7:30am, this guy showed up with a giant concrete saw and cut a lot of it up.

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: DPW Checks the Flags Before the Parade Begins

Start here, scroll down.

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Refreshment Stand

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: The Parade Arrives at Walnut Street!

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: SPD Honor Guard

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: SPD Auxiliary

They're not cadets, right?

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Biker Cop

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: SFD Prius

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Waltham American Legion (Post 156) Band

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Laid Up

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Driving

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Watching

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Picking up a Water Bottle

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Poland Spring!

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Volunteer Tossing Water Bottles to Marchers

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Aleppo Shriner

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Aleppo Shriners

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Tattooed Spectators

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Happy Nuns

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Expressing Displeasure

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Aleppo Shriners

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Middlesex Sheriff Charger

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Middlesex Sheriff Honor Guard

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: The Crowd at Central Street

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Jazz Band

These guys are awesome. The whole band plays atop a vintage pumper outfitted with a mixer, amp, and speakers all around. They sound great!

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Happy Marcher

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Kids with Fake Dogs

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Spike's Hot Dogs Guy

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Watching from Within

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Free Candy

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Celtics Fan

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Roma Band

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Fans of Roma Band

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Keeping the Girls Cool

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Mayor Curtatone Approves

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: Ready for Anything

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: The Lone Shriner

Somerville Memorial Day Parade 2008: The Aftermath

I interrupt these 97 new photos to bring you the Somerville Memorial Day Parade in its entirety.

Click here for 41 shots on Flickr.

It is nice

to be back in my natural habitat.

Making a Stressful Day Slightly Less Terrible

Landlady just offered meatballs and ziti for lunch!

Medford Fire Detail

Police details at construction sites are a sore topic in Massachusetts politics. (For those of you just joining us, "details" are a required, privately paid police presence at all road construction and utility sites. Almost no other states require these, and the cost is ultimately borne by the taxpayer/consumer.)

Even more arcane, outdated, useless, and wasteful is the fire detail, which is required in the Boston area at a variety of events (link to Cambridge's regulations).

Across the city line in Medford, Tufts University recently bought the Sacred Heart Church and Rectory from the Archdiocese of Boston, helping the church pay off its dozens of abuse victims and fanning the anti-intellectual, anti-"expansionism" fears of blue collar Medford.*

Apparently Tufts is making the church into some type of convention center. Its rectory was just torn down, which surprised me, and I passed by the demolition zone at about 6:30pm. Pacing around the rubble was a Medford fireman talking on his cell phone. A beat up old Medford Fire Crown Vic was parked across from the demolition equipment.

I suspected that this might be one of those strange fire details. So I returned on foot around 10:30pm to see if the firefighter was still guarding the ruins of the rectory, watching the jagged chunks of brick and plaster for a wisp of telltale smoke. The cruiser was still there and the scene dark. As I grew closer, I spied a weak white light coming from within the vehicle. The firefighter was reclining under the reading lamp with the driver's door slightly ajar, relaxing with a newspaper.

So the fire detail does exist, and in Medford, firefighters receive overtime pay to guard piles of rubble 24/7. Both satisfied and disappointed, I walked to Davis to take advantage of the weather. There I found that new pavement markings were being applied in the square. And the striping crews were being protected by cops and cruisers from Everett and Somerville.

An Arrest in Somerville

Traffic Stop

Backup Arrives

The Tow Truck Arrives for the Suspect's Car, and the Suspect is Cuffed.

Suspect is Detained

The Wagon Arrives--Bringing Donuts

Spectators Gather

Reading of Rights and Preparations for Transport

Preparing for Transport

Removing Evidence from the Suspect

Loading

Time for Paperwork...

More of the Same

It happened again, this time at Underbones. While attempting to order a first round, I found myself standing next to a sloshed crew of nondescript 20something men. I asked if they were waiting for the barkeep. The one nearest me said something unintelligible. I asked him to repeat himself. He then said something unintelligible to the barkeep, a young, Asian lady. She looked at me with order-hungry eyes. I said do you have Julius Echter bottles, good, one of those, a Cascazilla Red, and an order of corn fritters. She turned to the unintelligbile dude and said, are you sure you want to get him all that?

I asked what was going on, and he said KARMA. I asked what I could do for him, and he said NOTHING.

I put my wallet away, but left a 20-dollar bill on the bar. The bartender poured my drinks and took the bill to the register. The bearded dude stood next to me and said nothing. I pointed out, only somewhat innocently, that the bartender had taken my money. I jokingly offered to pay for half or all of my round.

The bartender came back with my change. The dude handed me a 20 from his wallet and pocketed my change.

How much should we leave her, he asked. We have to leave a big tip. Give her the 5, I said. He counted 5 singles from the change, dropped them on the counter, and walked away.

Back at the table, Ian could not believe the story. When the same bartender appeared to retrieve our empty glasses, I asked her what was up with the guy giving away free beer.

Who's giving away free beer?!, she asked.

That dude who bought my corn fritters!

You mean you don't know him?!

Never fucking seen him before.

I just received...

...a shipment of hot spanikopita that I will reheat for dinner. Best landlords ever!

Sidewalk Update!

By lunchtime, both corners across the street had been dug up for the second and third times, respectively. The corner that was partially dug up for the first time last week is now totally dug up for the second time.

Both corners across the street are now filled with dirt. Work has ceased for the day, and the Everett cop who spent most of his detail shift in the bank drove has driven big SUV home.

Detail Cop from Everett PD just showed up in Mercedes SUV.

But the sidewalk on the corner across the street had already been dug up, then filled in with dirt. So he left.

Somerville Sidewalk Job Enters Month 5

Since I've been traveling for the past 5 weeks and worked at home well past 9pm last night, I thought I'd sleep a little later than usual today. But the Environic Corporation's excavator was outside my window just after 8, demolishing a few more squares of sidewalk on the corner across the street. When my lease started on July 15, this project had already started.

9:05am--a small loader and another excavator just showed up...

Update on sidewalk job

In eight hours of work today, four workers, two machines, and one detail cop dug up a temporary asphalt sidewalk on the SE corner. They then dug up the new granite curbing, then put it back in. Then they created a new, temporary sidewalk of dirt, leveled it, and compacted it.

So, after 3 months of work, we have:
Corner 1 (NW): Curbing and sidewalk complete. Light pole not yet installed.
Coner 2 (NE): Curbing complete. Sidewalk half filled-in with new concrete, half hole.
Corner 3 (SW): Temporary dirt and asphalt sidewalk. New curbing dug up, then re-installed.
Corner 4 (SE): Curbing installed. Temporary asphalt sidewalk with spray-painted lines showing where to rip it up.

Detail cop just showed up.

They found a guy from the Medford PD, who is getting paid overtime to stand in traffic and talk on his cellphone.

The efficiencies of government-contractor partnerships in urban Massachusetts.

The four corners outside my window are being rebuilt with granite curbs and wheelchair ramps. This has been going on since mid-July (it should not have taken more than four days total, which is more than what it would take in New York). Today, an excavator with hydraulic breaker attachment is breaking out chunks of temporary asphalt sidewalk (an unnecessary expense) on the other side of the street. The corners on this side of the street have been half-resurfaced with cement--the truck ran out both days it was here (Tuesday and Wednesday. Detail cop both days). Today's detail cop has not shown up yet. I'm buying more and more stuff online to keep sales tax from going to this machine.

i'm going to lunch at victor's

& i'm going to come back with some goals

The Landlord's Wife

Every Monday, as the sun rises over D------ Street, it illuminates large gray mounds of rubbish in front of every house save one--mine. A passerby might fear that the owners of that one house had forgotten to put the trash out this week, but the owners actually prefer that their trash spend as little time as possible in public view.

To that end, the landlord's wife, who is short and about 70, commits herself to a meticulous, if briefly executed, routine. At around eight a.m., she moves carefully packaged and easily liftable parcels of trash from the back of the house to the curb. She then moves the recycling bin from the front porch to the curb. And then, she waits.

Despite the house abutting a very busy road, the landlord's wife can sense very well when the recycling truck's engine begins to hum from an oblique angle up the side street. She appears within two minutes of the truck's passing and retrieves the empty blue bin from the curb.

Later, when the garbage truck comes, the same process is repeated for the trash barrel. She never sees or makes contact with the drivers or collectors, but she never fails to move all empty bins within minutes of the trucks' passing.

It is in this way that our house, which is quite a nice house, never has trash in front of it as long as any other house on D------ Street.