Cryptids are the most dangerous game

Anyone who has read this blog for the past six or seven months can be reasonably convinced that Whalehead King does, indeed, live in New Orleans, Louisiana.  Sightings of this elusive man of mystery have been impossible to confirm, however.  He is a reclusive creature, seemingly everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

Like the bigfoot reputed to haunt the bayous in St. Bernard and Plaquemines Parishes just outside New Orleans, WK leaves traces (mostly in these pages) while direct evidence is lacking.

Unlike Pere Noel, WK does not keep track of who is naughty and who is nice.  He voyages back an forth from the downriver, downtown boundary of New Orleans to the upriver, uptown one, stopping short as soon as Mayor Landrieu's jurisdiction holds no official authority.  From riverbank to lakeshore, WK is on patrol, judging not lest he be judged, observing and tallying random observations.  His beating heart pumps as much incredulity to his brain as it does adrenaline, endorphins, and sorrow.  You cannot live in New Orleans without being overwhelmed by the majesty and spent chance this city embodies.

There are fireworks in New Orleans.  Some squibs are damp and they sputter while they spit sparks along the sidewalk.  Some soar to bombard the air with pyrotechnics that light up the sky and illuminate the streets for blocks and blocs and blocks, illuminating every living room and bedroom as if the sun were shining over the transom or somebody left a 1000 watt lightbulb incandescent.

I'm looking for a jackalope head to mount over my fireplace mantle.  If anyone has one they want to unload, let me know in the comments.  I'm only interested in the genuine article.  Fake jackalopes have no place in parlor.

Thanks,
WK

Photo credit: Lisa Beth Darling-Gorman.

Nicolas Sarkozy for Mayor of New Orleans

Some people say it's too early to talk about who will be replacing Mayor Mitch Landrieu.  He is only into the first quarter of his first term and he is allowed a second term under the city charter.  Other people think that a stitch in time saves nine and they are looking to recruit a man who is up to the job of running the Crescent City before they have to settle for the lesser of two evils.

For the man they have in mind, seven years will be enough time for him to meet the qualifications.  According to New Orleans' charter:

Section 4-202. Qualifications.
The Mayor shall be a citizen of the United States and a qualified elector of the City, and shall have been domiciled in the City for at least five years immediately preceding the election. 

Mayor Landrieu has raised expectations in the city.  He ran on the promise of knowing what needed to be done to increase the city's general prosperity and improve its infrastructure, as well as knowing how to do it.  As the former mayor of Neuilly-sur-Seine, Nicolas Sarkozy knows how to run a city.

As Co-Prince of Andorra, he knows how to run a principality, something which Orleans Parish has sometimes been compared to.  As President of France, he is used to the rough-and-tumble of politics.   Compared to a whole country the size of Texas, running New Orleans would be a cakewalk.  He would certainly have the chutzpah and wherewithal to stand down the bureaucrats in Baton Rouge and cut through the red tape to get the city the independence it deserves.

There's just the niggling detail of Sarkozy's nationality and place of residence.  Even in this most francophile of cities it would be impossible, by statute, to elect a Frenchman to the position of mayor.   It's been a long, long time since a french speaker had any voice in New Orleans' executive branch.

This is why Sarkozy partisans are looking for Mayor Landrieu to keep up the good work and win a second term.  In that time, Nicolas Sarkozy could retire from the French presidency, establish himself in New Orleans, gain citizenship, and register to vote in time to run for the city's executive office.  It would be a seamless transition from one charismatic leader to the next, albeit the successor would have more hair and may not possess the same sense of rhythm for dancing in second line parades as the incumbent.

Plans are afoot to rent a home on Saint Charles Avenue for M. Sarkozy should he be interested in the plum position.  Rumor has it that Tulane University is crafting a position for M. Sarkozy in diplomacy and that Ecole Bilingue de la Nouvelle Orleans is also setting up a desk for an unnamed possible grammar professor to be signed to tenure.  If M. Sarkozy is going to live in the city, true to his ethic, he'll have to work.

Word on the street is that this is all just hopeful prognostication.  Sarkozy's spokespeople deny that the sitting president has any plans beyond governing the French Republic and they refute that he any designs on being New Orleans' mayor.  I was in the back room at Iggy's the other night and I stumbled into a conversation between folks who were convinced of the contrary.

A grizzled dockworker opined, "Sure Sarkozy's a shoe-in.  We need that kind of expertise and I think we can sweeten the pot a bit.  Heck, I'll personally deliver five pounds of crawfish and a pot of Pontchartrain crabs to his house every day he's in office.  He'll be better than Nagin."

The pulse on the street is that Sarkozy, or anybody, will be better than this chap:

It may be damning praise, but we suspect Sarkozy won't mind.  He may be shorter than ex-Mayor Nagin, but he is head and shoulders above him in ability.

A letter writing campaign will be launched shortly to convince M. Sarkozy that it is in his and the world's best interest to run for Mayor of New Orleans.  This world class city deserves the best.  On it's upward trajectory, New Orleans has already elected a better mayor. When this one is done with his job, it will be time to trade up even further.  Aim high, New Orleans.  You are already the best and you deserve the best leader you can get.

This message paid for by the Committee to Elect Sarkozy.  They agree with this message.

A conversation with Mayor Landrieu

We went out for coffee this morning.  You'll never guess the pleasant chap with whom we had a very nice conversation.  He introduced himself as Mitch.  He is a perfect charm of a gentleman.

As I've said before, I really like our Mayor.   I admire him and the job he's doing.  We didn't discuss that though.  It didn't seem right for Sunday morning chitchat.

He was full of questions for us: "Where are you from?  What made you move here?  What do you do for a living? etc..."  He had nothing but good things to say about Boston and seemed genuinely surprised that two people would leave it, even for the chance to live here.

He asked where we were living and I said in my pitch perfect Orleanian, "Terps-hickory."  He said, "Terps-i-core."

"Now just a minute,"  I replied, "I used to say it that way and everyone corrected me."  He said, "Really?"  I said, "Yes, really.  I think you're playing a trick on me."

He was bemused.  "No," he smiled, "It's hard to learn how all the street names are pronounced."  Shoot, if it's hard for this guy, I don't feel so badly about it.  On this point though, I'll trust my mailman.  It's "Terps-hickory."

He told us we are moving to a very pretty part of Esplanade Avenue, as if there are any ugly parts, and told us that it's going to be very busy come Jazz Fest.  We replied that we are looking forward to it.

You can judge a man by his handshake and Mitch's was solid.  After we parted company I asked the lady of the house if she knew who we spent the past ten minutes talking to.  "Sure," she said,  "I wonder if he's going to tell his wife that he met two people who didn't know who he was."

His secret is safe with us.  You'll also notice I didn't say where we met.

An uncaged city

The bounds of reason know no limits.

I have an inkling why the caged bird sings.  It sings for thee and me.

New Orleans is not about keeping animals in cages, except at the zoo.  New Orleans is about setting ambition free.  As I witness the chickens and peacocks that inhabit yards on Prytania Street, I am struck by how much freedom of movement and display exists in this freewheeling city where everyone is a talker except the dumb.  Well, even the dumb talk, just go to any watering hole with a congregation of Tulane students.  The mute don't.

New Orleans City Hall at night.  Some lights need replacing.

They say New Orleans' government is broken.  I think it's on the mend.  I haven't met anyone who says that things are worse now than during the past administration.  I also haven't heard anyone say that the form the city's government has taken over the decades is what is best for the city. New Orleans seems to run on a Tammany Hall model, if that is possible in this age of transparency and civic activism.

People have good things to say about Mayor Landrieu, but they are hesitant things.  So far, so good, but the proof will be when nobody is arrested for corruption after the fact.  So far the administration seems clean.  The mayor seems honest in providing an administration that works for the citizens.  The mayor, as promised, knows what to do and how to do it.  It isn't a smooth road, but it is much better and professional than I expected.  The decay that has been ever-present in New Orleans may reverse.  There is nothing wrong with decay when it doesn't impede progress.  There is something wrong with neglect.

I don't see the present administration neglecting its responsibilities.  It is active and robust and seems to strike the right balance between renovation and renewal.  Time will tell, of course.  In the meantime, the only consistently positive I hear is that Mitch Landrieu is no Ray Nagin.  Faint praise, perhaps, but in this case it seems to be that anything is better than the devil you know.

Excelsior!
WK





 

The anti-Landrieu

I have no opinions on the website being advertised in the video above.  My interest is on the spokesman. It's Boston's current and longest serving mayor.  I've watched this four times and I still think he's saying "George Washington dot com."

He seems to be an able, if uninspiring, manager.  He is always out and about and his name is plastered everywhere.  He must have some asset to make up for his lack of charisma but in three years I was never able to observe it.

He's like an anti-Mitch Landrieu, the most telegenic mayor I've ever had the pleasure to see in person.

A tip of the fedora to Universal Hub for the clip.  Read the local Bostonian comments here.

Spicy adventures in New Orleans

For a city that has long had the nickname of 'the American Sodom and Gomorrah,' I have to admit I haven't had any spicy adventures in New Orleans beyond eating boiled crawfish.  These little crustaceans sell for $2.00 a pound or so and they are available all over the city in the back of corner grocers.

Unlike in New England, where shellfish are boiled in salt water and served with drawn butter, in New Orleans, they are boiled in a mix of spices, including bay leaf and cayenne.  The spices settle in the cracks under the carapace, and they provide quite a complementary kick to the crawfish meat.  Be warned:  though a crawfish resembles a lobster, there is little to savor in the claws or legs.  The tail is the show here. Some people suck the fat and such out of the heads.  While this part is also full of flavor, I didn't find it added to any satiety so much as being a little bonus of flavor.

Interestingly, Boston is considering regulating food carts.  I find it hard to believe they haven't been doing this for decades already.  There is such a dearth of options that I naturally assumed that Boston had all but outlawed them.  It seems that laissez-faire American Sodom can teach a thing or two to the Athens of America.

On another note, I discovered that Mayor Landrieu and the Councilmember from northwest New Orleans have taken a stand on preserving Fleur-de-Lis Park.  Good for them.

A tip of the fedora to Dr. Hermes.

And yes, I still call them 'crayfish' reflexively.

Settling in

I don't usually like to plug my other endeavors on the Dot Matrix, but as further proof that I am permanently relocated and committed, I have changed my role at examiner.com.  Instead of being Boston's Fringe Neighborhood Examiner, a title I never felt entirely comfortable with, I am now New Orleans' Parks and Open Spaces Examiner.  

As I commented on yesterday, I appreciate a smidge of structure in order to produce and I figured describing the many public parks and neutral grounds would be a nice track for me to follow.  I love to go out exploring and I am interested in the civic amenities New Orleans offers.  One of the first things I noticed about New Orleans' parks is that, unlike Boston, the mayor's name isn't plastered on every sign and umbrella and trash can.  Even much-maligned Mayor Nagin had more class and less hubris than Boston's Mayor Menino.  In Boston, you can't go anywhere without seeing Mayor Menino's name inscribed on some piece of infrastructure, no matter how humble.  I have yet to see newly installed Mayor Landrieu's name anywhere beyond the pages of the Times-Picayune.  I like that.  I like it a lot.

I could just write willy-nilly, whatever comes to mind, and that is often my modus operandi.  I've been known to think of the posts contained on the Matrix as jazz riffs; I rarely know where I am going to end after I start.  This whale-may-care attitude was compromised a bit when I took my motorcycle journey between Boston and New Orleans.  During the trip, I chronicled my impressions left over after ten hours of cross country motorcycling (first installment here).  That saga ended on May 7.  May 8 was my first fully fledged day in the Crescent City and it provided a leitmotif that I hope will stamp every following encounter between myself and the City Care Forgot.  

I feel remarkably carefree.  I am working part time in my field and doing some freelance work for pocket money.  I have little inclination to get into a daily grind, though I realize that is probably in the cards.   At the moment, I am content exploring my new surroundings.  My creative juices are churning, the sap is rising, the sky is the limit even when daily thunderheads rain on my personal parade.  The sun always comes out at storm's end and, while I get wet, I have yet to be dispirited.  

New Orleans is laid on fertile, alluvial soil.  It's climate encourages fecundity.  If am a seed, I will grow where planted.  I am from Connecticut and the Nutmeg State's official motto is "Qui Transtulit Sustinet."  Words to live by.  In English: "He Who Transplants Sustains."  I will be true to my roots in this new garden.  Louisiana's motto is: "Union, Justice, and Confidence."  I can live with that.  With Heaven's blessing, I hope to thrive.

And now, this essay has turned out not one bit as I originally intended.  Thank you for stopping by.   

Two differences

A quick look on Google tells me that the temperature here in Boston is 60 whole degrees.  It feels like it.  The temperature in New Orleans, where I was only yesterday, is 88.  No wonder I'm wearing a sweatshirt and a fleece jacket as I sit on my Dorchester porch.  My sunburned arms are thankful for the Boston weather.  The rest of me isn't so sure.

I got to meet New Orleans' mayor at the airport yesterday.  He is a likeable enough politician.  It was his eighteenth day in office.  He is very articulate and personable, still riding a wave of goodwill.  A slender, bald man who has held higher state-wide offices, he seems well-connected and he can certainly connect to the people I saw him meet.

Quite the difference when compared to Boston's Mayor Menino, who comes across as being as articulate as Swamp Thing.  No comment on any other Menino attributes today.  I would rather wash my hands and forget I've ever seen the man in person.  Let the voters receive what the majority has requested.

Another illustration copyrighted by DC comics.  

Original composition reportedly based on sketches made in Hyde Park.

I don't follow the mayor

I don't follow Thomas M. Menino on twitter but he follows me.  Today, I asked him to cease and desist.  I doubt the Urban Mechanic himself checks in to see what quip I have to say about Dorchester on a semi-daily basis but it bothers me that some lackey is getting paid to monitor his twitter account and report back during a daily meeting.  I'd rather my tax dollars go toward keeping library branches open.

I don't hate Mayor Menino, but to say I love him would be a gross overstatement, as gross as blubbery lips, ham hands, a thick tongue, cross-eyed myopia, a bleached rollie-pollie belly as big as a sow's in a political cartoon.  I don't disagree with Mayor Menino though I'm obviously not looking for a patronage job.  I think he is a fine public servant.  I think he's a decent mayor.  While I think Boston can do better, I also think it could do much, much worse in the chief executive department.  To say Menino doesn't inspire me is an understatement and I find this to be relatively true among the people I talk to.  Menino doesn't depress me either.  He makes me shrug, "Meh!  It could be worse."  Not high praise, but hardly damnation.

The less I see of the mayor's mug, the better.  I don't want him following me on twitter or on the street.  I don't go out of my way to bump into him and there's a reason for that.  I hear his handshake is clammy and that he spits when he talks.  That's reason enough for me to avoid civic ribbon cuttings.

Wanna see him for yourself?  Here: click this.

B.A. on the P.A.

 +

I was musing the other day about how Mr. T would be a good celebrity master of ceremonies in the Dorchester Day parade, marching beside Dorchester's honorary mayor.  People outside Dorchester may wonder how someone qualifies to be Dot Mayor for a year.  They raise the most money to support the parade.

I don't know how much Mr. T, nee Laurence Tureaud, is  charging for personal appearances nowadays but it must be less than when he was riding he crest of popularity of Rocky III and the A Team.  In my book, diverting a few parade dollars to nab Mr. T to ride shotgun in the mayoral float would trump any total dollar amount.  It would be like Louis Armstrong leading the Zulu krewe.

Aside from Dot Day speculations, wouldn't Mr. T be the perfect spokesman for the MBTA?  Again, I would like to point out that in both real and inflationary dollars, the illustrious Mr. T's fee is probably less than it was in the late 1980s/early 1990s.  I wouldn't mind hearing Mr. T warn about trash causing fires on the electrified tracks or advising me to take the T to see the Bruins.  "Fare evasion is a crime, fool!"  Mr. T knows how to deliver a message and he does it much better than the droning voices currently on the T's PA system.  

Imagine standing on the outbound platform of South Station.  Mr. T's voice booms out, "The Ashmont train is now approaching!  Ashmont!  Step back if you want Braintree, this isn't your train!  Braintree's next, wait your turn!  Good things come to the people who wait!  Stay behind the yellow line, don't be a fool!"

Who could put the T in Dot?

We all know Dorchester is the best part of Boston and some people would try to convince you this is a direct affect of the Menino administration.  I doubt it, even if he specially picked his spokesperson, DOT JOYce, for her name.  Personally, I'm surprised she wasn't required to change it to Roxie Mandela when she was hired.

Records show that Dorchester has been very, very good before Menino came along.  Dorchester attracts the kind of people that make it better than good.  Walk around.  On any block of Geneva Avenue or Bowdoin Street you can see Thomas Menino's equal, especially in the mechanic shops.  I wouldn't be surprised if someone who can tune what's under the hood of some of Dorchester's used cars wouldn't be able to tweak and lubricate how the city runs and be just as articulate.

Speaking of articulate, it's just as well that the mayor calls Hyde Park home, but if Dorchester does need one resident who was larger than life, rather than just larger than me, I know who it would be.  Dorchesterites walk the walk and they talk the talk, but wouldn't it be nice to have someone who talked even straighter in a language we could all understand.  Could Mr. T be recruited to march beside the Dorchester Mayor on Dorchester Day?

Nola mayor-elect in Boston

The mayor-elect of New Orleans is in Boston today, spending time in Cambridge and then having a little tete-a-tete with everyone's favorite urban mechanic.  What pearls of wisdom will Boston's longest serving incumbent have to impart to the new guy?


I don't know too much about New Orleans politics at the moment, but Mayor-Elect Landrieu has convened several citizen advisory panels to help him set policy as soon as he takes office next month.  It seems Mayor Nagin wasn't very popular and didn't make many popular decisions.  He beat Landrieu in a close race in the previous election and people have been rueing that turn out in the interim.   Of note, Landrieu has served as Lt. Governor of Louisiana in the past.  That's a nice bit of experience for a city's top official to have.

If you read the Times-Picayune article on Mitch Landrieu's visit to our fair city, you'll see he has unspecified business in town through Wednesday.  I don't think he'll be coming to Savin Hill to congratulate a soon-to-be future immigrant on his wise decision but I do have a piece of advice:

Mayor-Elect Landrieu, before you head back to the beautiful. lively city of New Orleans, you may want to see the most beautiful and lively part of Boston.  Since you are going to be here tomorrow morning head up to Dorchester Heights and stand in the park at sunrise.  Face south and as the rosy sky breaks to gold and cerulean you will see Dorchester stretched out before you in all its majestic glory.  That will give you something to think about when you are considering plans to rebuild the Lower Ninth Ward and New Orleans East.  You could do far, far worse than match Dorchester's vitality.

I'm sure I'm going to love the Big Easy, but I'm going to miss Dot.

Another piece of advice:  If you want to do anything after midnight, there aren't many options but you can always go bowling.

Readership and ridership

Does the core readership of New Yorker magazine understand MBTA-based humor?

I'm not clear on who drew this cartoon but since it's copyrighted to the Cartoon Bank, I can only assume it originally appeared in the New Yorker magazine.

As anyone who has stood on an MBTA platform for any amount of time knows, the T's riders are the eyes and ears of transit police.  If we see something, we are encouraged to say something.  Somebody's got to be on patrol during coffee breaks.  If something has a hint of sophisticated humor about it, should it be reported to the MBTA's finest?  Will it be passed on to the next level or will it be dismissed as some bright boy trying to be funny but failing.  A good sense of humor is a good indicator if an officer has a good sense of menace.

Does the New Yorker's core readership understand MBTA-based humor?  I guess that's the flip side of the question, "Does the MBTA's core ridership understand New Yorker-based humor?"

I've a pretty good idea that the New Yorker's editors think their Boston-based subscribers are unwashed, beer-swilling, ball cap-sporting, vocational school dropout cavemen.  Heck, when I leave the boundaries of Dorchester and Roxbury, I think that sometimes too.  Especially around back of the Capitol Building on a weekday at the legislators' entrance.

If you see something, you should say something.  If you see trouble, you should report it to the authorities.  If you see trouble with the authorities, you should say it at the ballot box.      

Field's Corner upskirt re-design

The Obama administration has just released funds for a shovel-ready redesign of the Field's Corner station on the MBTA Red Line.  Official details are reportedly scheduled to be released next week, but an anonymous source confirms that MBTA engineers, under direct orders from the Governor, have studied a Japanese prototype design and green lighted the project for immediate construction.

An anonymous source from the Governor's office confirms. "We're behind this all the way.  It will create jobs, not only in traditional construction trades and for unionized track layers and electrical switchmen.  There's a big fiberglass fabrication budget that goes along with this design.  The benefits are enormous."

An anonymous source at the MBTA stated, "While Field's Corner is one of the system's newer stations, this represents a serious visual upgrade that will focus interest on the Red Line's lesser used branch and increase tourist ridership.  The 'gawk-factor' alone is expected to increase ridership between JFK/UMASS and Ashmont by 30%. "

An anonymous source at a local Dorchester redevelopment agency said, "This is the best news Field's Corner has had in years.  It's a cheeky project that emphasizes that Dorchester is not just about working for a living but also about having fun while you're doing it."

An anonymous operative from the Mayor's office wanted to be kept off the record until the Mayor released an official opinion.  She did scribble the following on a napkin: "If it is already decided, His Honor supports it and his involvement will be traced back to its roots accordingly."

So, what's the new design?  You saw it here first.  Special thanks to the MBTA engineer who leaked this brunette bombshell.  

A tip of the fedora to Dr. Hermes for providing the photographic evidence that such a thing can exist.  Some people would say something like this could only exist in Japan.  If the MBTA has its way, it will be in Field's Corner by the end of 2013.  That's assuming the federal stimulus package doesn't run out of funds.  Pure Dot magic.

Menino Dusk

A fifth term of Menino.  How's it feel?  Pretty much like the fourth, if you ask me.  It isn't the twilight of the reign yet, but if term number five ends like it began, this is going to one long whimper with no bang.

I'm not suggesting Flaherty would have been better.  I'm not suggesting Yoon would have been better, though he would have been different.  As for the Floon combo, while peanut butter does taste good with chocolate, opposites don't always attract.  Paul McCartney and Michael Jackson made a more attractive duo...  It would have been more interesting than today though.

Are the times a'changing?  Not in my neighborhood.  How about yours?  Any Menino staffers care to post the party line in the comments?  I don't see signs of a new age dawning over Boston.

Size doesn't matter.

"My neighborhood is bigger than yours!"  So what?  Your mother wears army boots.

Dorchester is big, but bigger isn't necessarily better.  After all, it's not the size of the tool but how effectively you use it.  Does Dorchester live up to its potential merely by being the biggest and most diverse jurisdiction in Boston?  In some ways.  The situation works very well for very many individuals.  That isn't to say there isn't room for improvement.  Parts of Dorchester are impoverished.  There is an abundance of dearth and a squandering of unrecognized potential.

Despite its bulk and area, Dorchester more often seems an appendix to the metropolitan body politic than a vital organ. All of the neighborhoods that don't suck at the tourist industry's teat seem that way.  Boston has an identity, but Dorchester's part in that isn't what sells airline tickets or hotel rooms.  It's a shame because a narrated bus tour around Dorchester would highlight any number of fascinating, historical facts.  The same can be said of Roxbury, East Boston and Charlestown.  I'm not so sure about Allston/Brighton, Hyde Park or West Roxbury, but people more familiar with those parts of town will probably make the argument that they equally deserve attention and promotion.   They do.  If  a visitor wants to know Boston in the round, he or she will venture outside downtown.

Beacon Hill, Chinatown, the North End: they are smaller than Dorchester.  Newbury Street is a snippet of Dot Ave's length.  It's not how much you have, it's how you use it.  This isn't only about attracting tourists because, after all, who needs them?  It is about having a voice in the government and getting a fair share as well as more than a glad handshake and a fair weather how-do-you-do.  Dorchester's citizens should be better represented and better better understood as the vital part of the larger city that it is.

Because I live in Dorchester, I can say without worrying about contradiction, "My neighborhood is bigger than yours."  You can say in reply, "Yeah, but your mayor wears army boots."  Well of course.  He's got to cover his Achilles heels  and clay feet somehow, doesn't he?

Boston's in-crowd

Boston's stars revolve around Dorchester. Boston's center of gravity resides, imperturbably, in Dorchester. Both light and opinions bend according to Dorchester's pull.

Dorchester contains more Bostonians than any other of the city's neighborhoods. It is a good place's nature to suck the cream off the available milk. When outsiders think of Boston's more desirable residential neighborhoods, they think of the Back Bay and Beacon Hill. They think of the North End or the South End. That's why they are outsiders. Insiders know the real deal and from where the butter comes that coats the side of the bread that falls face down.

Just as the most desirable things are rarely marketed to the masses, the value of Dorchester real estate and culture isn't promoted to the hoi polloi. Dorchester has the upscale cachet of an exquisite wrist watch with a brand name you've never heard of, or an automobile more rare than a DeLorean. It may look odd and out of place, but that's the idea, the cachet, the je n'est sais quoi. When you put your finger on what makes Dorchester so good, you'll feel a rarified pulse. It is like palpating the carotid artery of an opera singer who has overdosed on ether just before she regains conciousness to sing another aria from the top of her ample lungs and bring down the house.

There are more millionaires in Dorcheseter than there are in any other part of New England, including Fairfield County, Conn. Through sleight of tax return and property maintenance, this statistic is a secret. Only the Illumadotti know the truth.

If Tom Menino gets re-elected to be the longest serving mayor in Boston's history, it will be because the collective will of Dorchesterites makes it so. If it is Michael Flaherty's fate to break Mayor Menino's winning streak, it is because the population of Dorchester has rallied behind his unofficial deputy, Sam Yoon, a transplanted Dorchesterite who the locals respect.

Ignore Boston's biggest and best neighborhood at your peril. Those in the know, know Dorchester pulls Boston's strings.

Mayor Menino is following me

I checked my email today and I found a fine how-do-you-do. Tom Menino is following me on Twitter. He doesn't give his official title, but his picture curdles milk so there's no doubt who it is: Boston's chief executive. He is following me and 2216 other people as of this moment. It will no doubt be more by the time I am done spellchecking this essay. No one can argue that the incumbent isn't trying to keep in touch with what's going on in the neighborhoods. I am tempted to make up more folderol than usual.

Tweet: "I saw Tom Menino's profile on a slice of moldy American cheese, the processed kind that doesn't normally get moldy, just hard." Not really. Just practicing. I didn't even count the letters and spaces. You can follow me on Twitter to see the edited version.

Regular readers of the Dot Matrix know that while Whalehead King is not beholden to the current municipal administration, he is not entirely against it either. Why me, Mayor Menino? Why select me for your special attention? I am not your enemy, though I am certainly not your friend and whatever I have to say, especially in the space of a gross of characters, cannot interest you. I think you are more interested in me following you than the reverse. Sorry, I'm not signing up. I see your name and the results you leave in your wake enough as it is. I don't need regular updates of your gross of characters as you choose to delegate their release.

Don't worry. I read the papers. I am up to speed on what is unfolding in City Hall's bunker and I have my opinions. I keep most of them to myself. Your soiled laundry isn't mine to rinse and strain and hang out to dry. I can't say I appreciate your attention. In fact, I would prefer you unsubscribe. If you really want to know what I think, why don't you follow this blog rather than my Twitter account. It's in the Dot Matrix that I describe what I experience as a Bostonian, and, more importantly, as a Dorchesterite. I see my traffic goes up when your name is mentioned. I can only conclude your minions are at work. I can't imagine that as many people in the world are googling Tom Menino as they are Nicolas Sarkozy. In the country of the seeing, the tongue-tied man is king.

So now I am a bit larger a mote in the Mayor of Boston's eye than I was yesterday. I cannot say I am flattered so much as I feel damned. Luckily, I don't conduct business with the city and I have learned where to park to avoid tickets. If the my Little Ninja motorcycle gets any unjust tickets soon, you'll read about it here.

Tweet: "I just parked my yellow Ninja 250 in Franklin Park in front of the back gate." Just practicing again.

If you are interested in past observations of Boston's incumbent mayor, please click on the links to mayor or politics below.

Flaherty-Yoon

Candidate Flaherty is tag teaming together with Dorchester's own Sam Yoon, against the incumbent in what is turning out to be an interesting mayoral election in Boston. When I first heard the news at Saint's Diner this morning, I wasn't impressed. I've had some hours to think about it though and I've heard a range of opinions and I think I am for the coalition (thanks, Yellow-Eye!).

There's always been a strong Southie-Dot axis (we call it Dot Ave in both neighborhoods) and marrying these two councillors-at-large into a single ticket brings out both of their strengths. Flaherty's been around awhile. He knows whose bread needs buttering. I'm sure he's got the dull knife ready to do it. Yoon has a heart of gold and he's smart enough not to tarnish it. Yoon may be relatively untested, but he hasn't compromised his principals yet. Not an easy feat for a politician. If Flaherty and Yoon are an odd couple, so were Oscar and Felix and, years after the fact, you know exactly who I am referencing. Flaherty-Yoon can make an enduring mark.

In twenty years, no one will know who Menino was or why his name appears on odd monuments around Boston. That's a statue that will make babies cry so let's hope it never gets cast in bronze. While I don't necessarily think Flaherty is tinder, I know that Yoon is spark. The two of them together just might generate enough heat to fire up Boston's potential more than the status quo. Maybe.

I'm skeptical and I am not in favor of change for change's sake. That said, I also think there is such a thing as too much mediocrity. I don't think any Bostonian would complain about a little more meritocracy. That's what Yoon promises and that is what Flaherty is introducing to his platform by inviting Sam Yoon into his administration. It's a win-win for both men and a win for Bostonians.

Another 4 years of Menino anyone? You can unbuckle your seat belt. Despite whatever enthusiasm the Flaherty-Yoon ticket generates, the incumbent's minions and henchmen can be counted on to turn out in force. Some zombies are kept breathing with a promise of regularly scheduled trash collection. It will be an interesting election but I suspect the result will be a bit more of plus ca change plus c'est la meme chose. A revolution is coming, but will it be this year?

Vote for Mayor

You get to vote for up to four councillors-at-large when you vote in the mayoral primaries today. I admit I have only been following that 'race' out of the corner of a three-quarter closed eye but I did recognize most of the names and made my decision based on what little I know. The power of an uninformed electorate.

I just got back from the polls. As I was leaving a pickup truck with the Mayor's signs all over it was ladling hearty beef stew to Menino's supporters. A nice young lady at the door had given me a Sam Yoon sticker but I wasn't wearing it. That wasn't enough to get me an offer of stew though. I don't mind, the whole operation didn't look very sanitary.