Friday, November 09, 2007

Smart Boys Live in Dorchester, Mass.

Smart Boys Live in Dorchester, Mass.

Smart boys live in Dorchester, Mass. They live there and learn there and they fall in love there. Mothers tell their sons that if they don’t clean their plates they won’t be able to play on the puddingstone after dinner. Dorchester boys study hard between bouts of playing in the parks. They do their homework and they work around the home. Many hands make light work in Dorchester, Mass. Chores make a smart boy whistle. Time flies when you are having fun, and Dorchester is the part of Boston that is freewheeling and carefree while being sober and thoughtful.
The prettiest girls live in Dorchester, Mass. They grow into the prettiest women in Boston. Great ideas are hatched in Dorchester and great inspiration is also. The neighborhood is composed of free verse without words. The people turn the art of living well into opera. People in Dorchester have strong lungs and broad shoulders. They can carry the high notes as well as they carry a tune, their toils, and their troubles with a shrug and a boast. They do it all with good cheer. Where people are happy, good things come without waiting. Life is a cabaret.

You don’t have to be a genius to stand out in Dorchester. Plenty of regular fellows get along very well. It doesn’t hurt to be bright and it doesn’t hurt to be honest. When you live in Dorchester, you have arrived. The welcome mat is always out, the porch lights are on, and neighbors keep an eye on one another. If you fall, you will be picked up.

Dorchester is called the Dot but it is more than a dot on a map. It is a big, varied place full of surprises where expectations are more than met. Cups spill over. There is plenty to do and there are plenty of plump, juicy berries to pluck off the bushes. Smart boys live in Dorchester. They launch careers, make a living, and marry pretty girls who become pretty women married to smart men. Love makes a community, even if it is only two on a mattress. Dorchester is full of mattresses in the sleeping quarters of its triple-decker apartment blocks.

Few thoroughfares run straight or long in Dorchester. Much like the course of any individual life, a route through Dorchester is full of one-way streets and dead ends and private ways. Dot Ave is an exception. It runs straight as a plumb line from downtown Bean Town, down Dorchester’s spine. It runs where it counts and pauses when it must, with a steady aim and a singular purpose, to the banks of the Neponset River where Boston ends and Milton begins. It is paradise found. Dot Ave progresses through physical space the way Dorchester’s spirit courses through history, undeterred from its target, a chain linking two anchors. Lower Mills is as bittersweet as baker’s chocolate. N’orchester is a hub of bustle and tongues.

Bright babies are born in Dorchester. They are the apple of their mother’s eyes and the twinkle in their grandparents’ eyes. They make proud papas weak in the knees. Good children are raised in Dorchester. They grow into responsible citizens. There is no handshake like a Dorchester handshake. Cash paid to a Dorchester native is money well spent on a job well done. The proof is in the puddingstone that juts in boulders out of the soil. Many pebbles can cohere. These are people who believe in being straight while allowing for natural deviations. They are on the level. When you deal with a man from the Dot you can be sure all the T’s will be crossed in red and there’s no fine print.

The best things in life are free. Dorchester is affordable. Smart boys live in Dorchester and they don’t regret it. They thrive in Dorchester. Smart girls do too. So can you. The Dot hits the spot more often than not. When you’re hot, you settle in Dorchester, Mass. The breeze of Dorchester Bay is refreshing.

Whalehead King has made his home in Dorchester, Mass., Boston’s biggest, most diverse, and best neighborhood. He views it all with a child’s eyes, full of wonder and delight. There is plenty to seduce a proper gentleman with an open mind and an open heart to succumb to Dorchester’s charms. Mr. King has designed a line of tee shirts that celebrate Boston, the MBTA Red Line, and Dorchester, in particular. He writes about Dorchester and he celebrates the many marvels he stumbles over. Whalehead King thinks the Dot is tops! If you do too, you should join the parade. All abooooard…Last stop: MATTAPAN.


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