In Defense of Bostonians

IMG_1558This isn’t about our accents, and not how about everything’s “wicked”.  I’m not going to pahk my cah anywhere, or talk about the curse of the bambino.  This about what truly makes the most maligned of people some of the best folk I know:

A Bostonian will always let a jogger cross the street, away from the cross walk, against the light:  We know that you’re in a groove, that you’re making good time, that if you stop you might not get going again.  So, we let you cross.  No matter what.  And if you’re pushing a stroller…  I’ve seen people come to a dead stop, in the middle of rush hour, on the JFK rotary, just to let a mom with a jogging stroller cross.  And they give me a “thumbs up” and a smile too.

Morning meeting?  A Bostonian comes with a Dunkin for him and one for you too:  Nothing’s worse than an early morning meeting in the middle of a rough winter.  But when your appointment walks in, with two steaming regulars in his hands, you know the day’s gonna’ be okay.  When my car was in the shop and I begged the girl down the street for a ride to my new job, she called that morning and asked what I wanted from Dunkins.  We’ve been best friends since.

A Bostonian will tell you where you stand: People say we’re rude.  It’s not really true.  Sure, we don’t have five minute conversations with strangers on the T, and we’re not likely to say more than “thank you” to the lady at Shaw’s, but we’re not rude.  We’re just real.  You’re a busy person, and I am too, and we both got things we have to do, so I’m not going to bother you with a “hello, how are you today, nice weather we’re having, plans this weekend, how about them sox”.

But, when the time allows, and the moment’s right, we have no problem making conversation.  And, we’ll tell you how it is.  We’ll never smile and give you a back handed complement, we’ll never blow smoke up your arse.  You’ll know if we like you, and what we think, and how we feel.  And you can be sure of that.

A Bostonian Can Let Their Hair Down:  We know how to dress in Boston.  Trim and proper and perfectly buttoned up.  But, come the weekend, we know how to loosen up. There’s nowhere else where you can wear your slippers while walking down Broadway, in your sweatpants and your Sox T.  We even have our own official uniform: the Southie Tuxedo.  As long as your sweatsuit top matches your bottom, you’re dressed for a formal event (swear to god, I’ve attended weddings where this was acceptable).

We don’t try too hard.  We are who we are, very rarely do we try to keep up with the jones or worry about being seen. That culture just doesn’t exist in Boston.  There’s no pretense, no rules, you can just be you, in all your lazy, sloppy glory.

A Bostonian is Loyal:  A friend who’s a Bostonian is a friend for life.  No questions asked, not exceptions given.  If you went to elementary school with me, I will support whatever you do.  If you live down the block, I’ll share my leftovers with you.  If your son plays baseball with mine, your kid is my responsibility too.

We love our city.  More than anyone else I know.  No matter where you go in this world, a Bostonian is always from Boston, and will defend our city to the death.  We really do love that dirty water.  And all you have to do is spend a day in Boston to love it too.

This is a lifetime commitment, a way of being.  Bostonians don’t quit on you.  From our baseball team (there it is), to your biggest challenges, we’ll put our rally caps on and fight right by your side.

You Can Have a Beer With a Bostonian, Any Bostonian:  Walk into any bar in Boston, at any time, and there’s someone to have a beer with.  Someone to tell you a story, someone to shoot the shit with.  And this guy, knows another guy, who knows a guy, who knows your neighbor.  There are no class lines in a Boston bar, everyone’s your friend, everyone’s your brother, and everyone’s ready for one more round.

A Bostonian Still has a Bit of a Rebel in Them:  We have a loose understanding of the rules, and are a little flexible with the way things are supposed to be.  Just watch us bang a U-ey in the middle of Mass Ave, or double park all the way up-and-down Newbury.  And Boston is the only place I know where you can take a legal left turn on red (5 points if you know where it is).

And it means that we’re a bit more resourceful, and a bit more reasonable, and a bit sharper than you think.

A Bostonian is Not a New Yorker: ‘Nuff said.

I got a lot of input on this one.  Asked a lot of people what they thought.  Thank you!

 

 

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3 thoughts on “In Defense of Bostonians

  1. I like the rebel bit the best. Boston (plus ‘burbs and MA in general) happens to have one of the strongest environmental movements, building on the tradition of all the awesome people who have walked, run, and ridden those trails before us! I’m glad to have ended up in Boston when I stepped off the boat 😉

  2. Carrie, Carrie, Carrie…I have to take issue with this: “There’s nowhere else where you can wear your slippers while walking down Broadway, in your sweatpants and your Sox T.” My dear, this is what Portlanders wear every.single.day. Some to work. I’m not kidding. I miss the prim and proper 🙂

    Also, I had a good chuckle about the dunkins and “two regulars” – no one has a clue out here what that means, and it gave me a good smile. Happy Mother’s Day, my dear!

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