It’s been a bad news week. The FBI went to the office of Pres. Trump’s lawyer and kicked down the doors. Frightened, Mayor Jasiel Correia’s lawyer bought steel doors for his office.
It’s been a bad news week. The FBI went to the office of Pres. Trump’s lawyer and kicked down the doors. Frightened, Mayor Jasiel Correia’s lawyer bought steel doors for his office. I don’t have an office. I don’t have a lawyer, either.
Did I spend so much time focusing on the bad news that I missed the making of it here. Is it made? Is it here? Where are the streetscapes? What’s going on in the Arts Overlay District?
I have a groundhog living in my yard. His name is “George” and he is a valued and fuzzy member of my family. We feed him crackers and sometimes Portuguese rolls. He likes the Portuguese rolls, so maybe his name is “Jorge.”
George sleeps all winter, just like your cousin Frank does when construction work slows down.
And I’m always a little embarrassed when George comes up in the springtime.
After all, he’s been asleep for months, and I’ve done nothing to improve the yard. There’s no pool. I haven’t painted the fence. For all he knows, I’ve been sleeping all winter, like him.
But I haven’t been.
I was shoveling snow, and working, and ignoring professional hockey. That’s a full plate for any man or woman.
Still, when George entered into hibernation this winter, I figured I’d have big news for him when he came up in the spring.
So, where’s “Make It Here?” What happened to the slogan, the pins, the video, the extra videos we were promised? Where did it go? Where did the $100,000 go? What did we get for the money?
What am I going to tell George? Hell, what am I going to tell me? Me and George, we think $100,000 is a lot of money. To be honest, I think $100 is a lot of money, and George thinks a free Portuguese roll is a pretty good deal.
So, where’s the 100 grand? Are we Making it Here yet? Where’s the videos? Where’s everything? Where’s the shiny promise? Are we making it here right now, and me and the groundhog are just too blind to see? Do we lack faith? Are we naysayers, shortsighted beasts who sleep the winter away in dirt and waste the summers lying in the sun?
Naah! George might have slept all winter, but I kept watch, waiting for Fall River to start Making it Here, waiting for the slogan to come roaring back, waiting for my 100 grand to come roaring back.
The slogan did not come back. I was watching while George slept. The $100 grand never came back. I’d have noticed.
And George, on his hind legs out by my trash cans, accepts a Portuguese roll, holds it between his small paws and nibbles it while I explain.
Or try to.
George doesn’t make much noise, though he’ll whistle sometimes if you scare him bad enough.
I get paid to make noise on paper, and I’ll swear sometimes if you scare me bad enough.
The administration of Mayor Jasiel Correia is studded with stupid expenditures like raisin bread is studded with raisins. Enough chiefs of staff have come and gone that, if you got ‘em all together, you’d have a basketball team. The drug czar took off after spending public money like a coked-up rapper in a jewelry store. Monica Sousa is advertised as Correia’s “special assistant” or maybe his “special agent.” She replaced Faust Fiore, who moved on to some other department where he is a ghost with a paycheck, an employee in search of a job. No matter where they put Fiore in Government Center, the person in charge of that department can’t figure out what to do with him.
Every fall, George goes down into his hole for a few months of sleep. Every spring he comes up and I still haven’t put in a pool, and I’m still buying purple bags, and now I have to tell him I don’t know what happened to the $100,000 Jasiel Correia wasted on a stupid slogan, a lousy logo, and a very bad video.
The worst thing about my job is that I live in a city so simple-mindedly committed to the wasting of taxpayer money that city politics can best be explained through the eyes of a groundhog.
C’mon Jasiel, what happened to “Make it Here?” Me and George wanna know.