Whalehead King and company are travelling far afield without a laptop and with no intention of going online. Destination: Boston's evil twin and antipode: The Crescent City, NOLA, The Big Easy, The City That Care Forgot: New Orleans, Louisiana. Your humble narrator intends to stay out all night in public establishments that are legally open for business and let the good times roll in a round-the-clock metropolis enjoying homegrown cuisine and mixology. Your humble narrator has reluctantly stocked up an overfull store of slumber during the past two years in Boston and it is time to draw down that account.
Regular reportage, such as it is, will resume around August 10. Your Man on the Dot may need a while to recover from the culture shock and predicted katzenjammer. In the meantime we have something like 480 articles to peruse in the archives, tracing back to our humble beginnings in Connecticut's Whaling City, idyllic and romantic New London (apologies for the colored typography issues, this blog used to have a black background and our editor lacks the stamina to reformat everything to straight black and white). You can always look over the Dot-centric merchandise on offer if you are looking for a nice coffee mug or tee shirt to give a co-worker or loved one. And of course, in the meantime, you may want to take the time to follow WK on Twitter. Upon return, Whalehead Enterprises is sure to keep up the habit of broadcasting a daily, pithy aphorism or observation of the state of affairs in Dorchester, Mass. on the website that enabled the Iranian revolution. Our motto, however: "No high hopes. Guaranteed."
Enjoy the next week or so. With a tip of the fedora to our faithful readers who make this endeavor worth continuing. With every bite of muffuletta and every sip of Sazerac , WK will be wishing he was at the Dot Tavern watching the Sox instead of at the Absinthe House.
Cheerio, Hip-Hip, chin-chin, to your health, godspeed,
.....Whalehead King.
Balaenius Rex!
Thursday, July 30, 2009
How to park a scoot in Boston
Legally, you park a two-wheeled, motorized vehicle with license plates this way: taking up a whole curbside parking space. People will think you're a jackass, but the law is the law and we have to obey, don't we? I've never done this myself since it only seems like a good way to incite enmity, and I've rarely seen another motorcycle or large scooter do it either. Who wants to look like an ass? I'll tell you: the legislature knows what's best for Massachusetts. Let the Law of Unintended Consequences be damned. Nobody voted on that one.
I'm all for order but I'm not too keen on laws meant to protect me from myself or from being inconvenienced. Yes, the world is full of jackass-ery but living among fellow human beings demands that we have to put up with it. Hopefully, our fellow citizens will grow older and wiser and see the error of their ways. Asking the police to intervene by statute rather than standing up in person for civil behavior when we see a transgression abdicates our responsibility as citizens. We are all social policemen. If we don't chastise infringements on basic good manners, we are chattel. I'm not recommending citizens' arrests, but stern words or correction would go a long way if bystanders spoke them more often.
Some motor scooterists ignore traffic laws. Granted. So do truck drivers, car drivers, airplane pilots, hang gliders, surfers, bicyclists, pedestrians, and even motorcyclists. I will tell you straight-faced and without a smidge of regret that I have broken laws governing most of these modes of transportation. Try to sue me. No one was hurt or even endangered. I don't ignore the law. I disregard it when it serves no purpose. Good sense and common sense and respect for one's surroundings and situation are all the same thing. If you run a red light at an empty intersection after midnight in Boston, nothing is damaged but some fussbudgety witness' sense of propriety. "The law is the law," they'll say. The law is a pointless hindrance in this case and the person who sits at a red light in the dead of night is a jackass who thinks a dumb machine is smarter than they are. They may be right. I think, therefor I am and I think I am smarter than a timer set to regulate rush hour traffic at 3:00 AM.
Hubris? Perhaps, but I haven't been proven wrong yet. If you have any sense of propriety you would be complaining about the casual sex and violence that permeates popular culture, not the fact that a motor scooter is unobtrusively locked to a parking meter.
I'm no closet occultist but I don't disagree with the Law of Thelema: "Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law." I tend to vote Republican but I still have a whiff of youthful Anarchy about me. I don't like being told what to do if my actions inconvenience nobody but myself. I am what used to be called a Goldwater Conservative, not that I have any love for nuclear weapons. What I have a love for, which I think most people share, is the right to be left alone if I am not bothering anyone.
I have gotten my share of parking tickets in Boston, ranging from $40-100 dollars for the basic infraction of taking up space with my little Ninja, every time in no body's way and not blocking any access or egress or thoroughfare. For most of my tenure in Boston I have driven a small motorcycle to get around town, a Ninja 250R. When I want to do something besides drive, I park and I do it as I am supposed to in a parking space. I feel guilty taking up a full parking space as the law requires so I usually squeeze into some available void that has ample room at either end and park the way motorcycles are supposed to: with the back wheel against the curb for stability. Illegal in Boston. Perpendicular parking will earn the city $45.00.
I parked next to another Ninja in Brighton one day and met the driver as we were both leaving. She said, "Thanks for taking this spot with me. I feel like a jackass taking up a whole parking spot but I got a ticket last week for taking up less." I said, "We're not the jackasses and neither are the cops. It's the law that makes us all look like we should be braying."
Massachusetts law is changing shortly requiring more vehicles to have license plates. Vehicles with plates are required to take up a full parking space on the street. Motorcyclists are used to this and have been ignoring the rule for years, paying the penalty at random intervals to let other drivers be able to park their cars. Now scooters officially won't be allowed to park on the sidewalk, even if they are discreetly out of the way where no one walks. The city says they won't enforce this rule. We'll see how long that lasts.
If I ever park in a way that impedes a wheelchair or blocks a crowded sidewalk in the least way, feel free to move my Little Ninja aside or kick it over if it's that much in your way. If I am not bothering you, our lives are as they should be: co-equal, co-existant and harmonious, with better things to do than try to regulate each other's behavior.
I'm all for order but I'm not too keen on laws meant to protect me from myself or from being inconvenienced. Yes, the world is full of jackass-ery but living among fellow human beings demands that we have to put up with it. Hopefully, our fellow citizens will grow older and wiser and see the error of their ways. Asking the police to intervene by statute rather than standing up in person for civil behavior when we see a transgression abdicates our responsibility as citizens. We are all social policemen. If we don't chastise infringements on basic good manners, we are chattel. I'm not recommending citizens' arrests, but stern words or correction would go a long way if bystanders spoke them more often.
Some motor scooterists ignore traffic laws. Granted. So do truck drivers, car drivers, airplane pilots, hang gliders, surfers, bicyclists, pedestrians, and even motorcyclists. I will tell you straight-faced and without a smidge of regret that I have broken laws governing most of these modes of transportation. Try to sue me. No one was hurt or even endangered. I don't ignore the law. I disregard it when it serves no purpose. Good sense and common sense and respect for one's surroundings and situation are all the same thing. If you run a red light at an empty intersection after midnight in Boston, nothing is damaged but some fussbudgety witness' sense of propriety. "The law is the law," they'll say. The law is a pointless hindrance in this case and the person who sits at a red light in the dead of night is a jackass who thinks a dumb machine is smarter than they are. They may be right. I think, therefor I am and I think I am smarter than a timer set to regulate rush hour traffic at 3:00 AM.
Hubris? Perhaps, but I haven't been proven wrong yet. If you have any sense of propriety you would be complaining about the casual sex and violence that permeates popular culture, not the fact that a motor scooter is unobtrusively locked to a parking meter.
I'm no closet occultist but I don't disagree with the Law of Thelema: "Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law." I tend to vote Republican but I still have a whiff of youthful Anarchy about me. I don't like being told what to do if my actions inconvenience nobody but myself. I am what used to be called a Goldwater Conservative, not that I have any love for nuclear weapons. What I have a love for, which I think most people share, is the right to be left alone if I am not bothering anyone.
I have gotten my share of parking tickets in Boston, ranging from $40-100 dollars for the basic infraction of taking up space with my little Ninja, every time in no body's way and not blocking any access or egress or thoroughfare. For most of my tenure in Boston I have driven a small motorcycle to get around town, a Ninja 250R. When I want to do something besides drive, I park and I do it as I am supposed to in a parking space. I feel guilty taking up a full parking space as the law requires so I usually squeeze into some available void that has ample room at either end and park the way motorcycles are supposed to: with the back wheel against the curb for stability. Illegal in Boston. Perpendicular parking will earn the city $45.00.
I parked next to another Ninja in Brighton one day and met the driver as we were both leaving. She said, "Thanks for taking this spot with me. I feel like a jackass taking up a whole parking spot but I got a ticket last week for taking up less." I said, "We're not the jackasses and neither are the cops. It's the law that makes us all look like we should be braying."
Massachusetts law is changing shortly requiring more vehicles to have license plates. Vehicles with plates are required to take up a full parking space on the street. Motorcyclists are used to this and have been ignoring the rule for years, paying the penalty at random intervals to let other drivers be able to park their cars. Now scooters officially won't be allowed to park on the sidewalk, even if they are discreetly out of the way where no one walks. The city says they won't enforce this rule. We'll see how long that lasts.
If I ever park in a way that impedes a wheelchair or blocks a crowded sidewalk in the least way, feel free to move my Little Ninja aside or kick it over if it's that much in your way. If I am not bothering you, our lives are as they should be: co-equal, co-existant and harmonious, with better things to do than try to regulate each other's behavior.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
The man named Lorre
Four months after the fact, I'm rather surprised that a dispatch on the subject of Mr. Peter Lorre remains one of the Dot Matrix's most visited pages. Who would have predicted?
While the human interest aspect of young Ms. Laurie Masters' adolescent infatuation with the late actor has legs, it seems to be a near-universal fascination with the late Mr. Lorre himself that is driving traffic. People want to learn more and share their affection for this talented thespian.
What's the appeal? He was certainly suave, debonair and exotic. He had an endearing way about him. Even when he was playing a rat or, regrettably, a raven, people felt an instant bond with this fellow. He was a tragic hero even when he was a villain, and he was never very villainous. Was it the accent? His voice? Yes and more.
No summary would be complete without mentioning Peter Lorre's eyes. Limpid pools of tender humanity, a woman could lose herself seeing her reflection in those peepers. What did Mr. Lorre see? It's written on his world-weary face. Greatness and humility are conveyed by every tic and arch. When Peter Lorre cried, I imagine he cried by the bucketful and those weren't crocodile tears. They were the tears of a man who seen both top and bottom. They were tears that pluck at a nourishing lover's heartstrings.
What do men see in a fellow man like Peter Lorre? He never came across as particularly macho, but he could smoke a cigarette like no body's business, relishing carcinogens like they were candy. He sometimes came off as cravenly, but in a tight spot, wouldn't any man be to save his own neck in order to try again another day? I would. So would you, Buster. Be honest.
Though not a politician, Peter Lorre was a man of the people in the widest sense. People identified with him even if they had nothing in common. They still do, though regrettably, Mr. Lorre hasn't worked since 1964 when he passed away. Like any great actor, he could communicate the human condition in a way everyone could relate to. No small feat, and a talent many politicians lack.
So, back to the Dot Matrix's raison d'etre, what does this have to do with Dorchester, Mass? Much like Mr. Lorre, the Dot has a certain je ne sais quoi, an appeal that is hard to pinpoint but that is irresistible nonetheless. The parts shouldn't work together, yet the fact that they do is undeniable, to a degree no one would reasonably expect. Peter Lorre had his magic. Dorchester has its.
If you haven't gotten your Peter Lorre fix yet, and you shouldn't just reading this, there is a Peter Lorre News Blog, that covers all thing pertinent to the appreciation of the man born Laszlo Lowenstein. A tip of the fedora to Cheryl Morris who tends this flame.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Plutonian ode
One could argue that Dorchester is the first neighborhood to be annexed to Boston when the city took over Dorchester Heights to make South Boston (1804). Maybe again when Washington Village was annexed in 1855 as the third addition after Eastie. Conventionally speaking the date set for the Dot's surrender of sovereignty happened in 1870, the fifth neighborhood to be added to Boston proper. See the timeline maps about midway down this link.
Much like Dorchester, the planetoid Pluto has seen its status downgraded from a full-fledged entity to something a bit less than what it was once regarded. Pluto: the ninth mistress of the Sun. Comparing Pluto to Dorchester is like comparing Hyde Park to Mercury, the Earth, and Jupiter combined. In fact, Hyde Park is the ninth neighborhood annexed to Boston, in 1912 according to wikipedia, and it is the most remote from the golden dome of the State House.
That said, comparing Dorchester to Jupiter is apt. It's the fifth planet to our non-astronomy buffs. The Dot is the biggest part of Boston by far. Comparing Dorchester to the Earth is equally fitting (the third planet in the solar system, equivalent to Washington Village...Does anyone use that name anymore?). The Dot is the most fecund and lively part of the Boston universe. Comparing Dorchester to Mercury? We'll leave that part to Southie, which was the first and is the closest to the heat and flares that radiate from downtown. We aren't suggesting Dorchester's neighbor to the north is an inhospitable, lifeless wasteland by any means by making this comparison. Just pointing out that Southie was the first neighborhood to accrue and be trapped in orbit around the central city's gravity.
Dorchester gave up its independence during a popular vote in the summer of 1869 and its resolution was made binding on January 3rd, 1870. Some thought this day would live in infamy but people adjusted and now, Dorchester is the best part of Boston, adding its vitality and lending its boundless energy to the rest of the city. You don't need to look through a telescope to see Dorchesterites. They are all around our fair city, contributing value, keeping the whole shebang running in good, working order.
Have there been any regrets? Surprisingly few as one intrepid reporter discovered doing his due diligence.
Much like Dorchester, the planetoid Pluto has seen its status downgraded from a full-fledged entity to something a bit less than what it was once regarded. Pluto: the ninth mistress of the Sun. Comparing Pluto to Dorchester is like comparing Hyde Park to Mercury, the Earth, and Jupiter combined. In fact, Hyde Park is the ninth neighborhood annexed to Boston, in 1912 according to wikipedia, and it is the most remote from the golden dome of the State House.
That said, comparing Dorchester to Jupiter is apt. It's the fifth planet to our non-astronomy buffs. The Dot is the biggest part of Boston by far. Comparing Dorchester to the Earth is equally fitting (the third planet in the solar system, equivalent to Washington Village...Does anyone use that name anymore?). The Dot is the most fecund and lively part of the Boston universe. Comparing Dorchester to Mercury? We'll leave that part to Southie, which was the first and is the closest to the heat and flares that radiate from downtown. We aren't suggesting Dorchester's neighbor to the north is an inhospitable, lifeless wasteland by any means by making this comparison. Just pointing out that Southie was the first neighborhood to accrue and be trapped in orbit around the central city's gravity.
Dorchester gave up its independence during a popular vote in the summer of 1869 and its resolution was made binding on January 3rd, 1870. Some thought this day would live in infamy but people adjusted and now, Dorchester is the best part of Boston, adding its vitality and lending its boundless energy to the rest of the city. You don't need to look through a telescope to see Dorchesterites. They are all around our fair city, contributing value, keeping the whole shebang running in good, working order.
Have there been any regrets? Surprisingly few as one intrepid reporter discovered doing his due diligence.
Monday, July 27, 2009
The scooter bug bites (again)!
I've complained before about how driving a motorcycle in Boston can be a frustrating affair, even a bike as small as Kawasaki's Ninja 250. As much as I am enjoying my bicycle (and I am!) I've become addicted to engines and I enjoy the speed and freedom a motorized bike provides when I'm not actually stuck in gridlock. I haven't always driven a motorcycle. I'm a scooter man from way back.
I started off, many years ago on a 50cc Honda Elite four stroke, and I've driven many a 50cc Honda Metropolitan to Death's doorstep. It wasn't until I got a Genuine Stella, however at 150cc, that I needed a motorcycle license.
The Stella and I had a love-hate relationship. It had style. It had a spare tire. The technology was antiquated enough I could figure things out and fix them myself. There are any number of chrome accessories available that I bolted on like a character from the classic scooter film "Quadrophenia" though I didn't dress the part, which isn't to say I am not fashion-obsessed. The downsides were that the scooter is made in India and subcontinental engineering justly doesn't have the reputation of Japanese. While there aren't any plastic parts on a Stella, the whole thing is machined out of a solid block of pig iron. It is heavy. Then again, it had style and chicks dug it.
Like many people, including the Boston Globe, I've been thinking a long time that a motor scooter is the best way to get around our shared metropolitan area and I'm thinking something bigger than 50cc will be more up my alley, spoiled by power as I am. I was headed home on Old Colony Avenue today and I passed Scooters Go Green. What was parked out front but a beautiful avocado Stella... I had to make a tight U-ey over cobblestoned over trolley tracks for a personal inspection. Yeah, the scooter bug bit me again confronted with a replica of my old, trusty steed that gave me more scars on my knees than I can count and dislocated my shoulder. This one had white wall tires and was painted a darker shade of green.
I went into the shop and took a brochure. No shop talk. "This is all I need," I said and I left. Had we discussed the Stella and its price, I am afraid they would have reeled me in with the hook in my mouth. I'm still on the fence. I'm not ready to give up the Ninja and I don't really need two bikes (three counting the one with pedals). Though inexpensive by most standards, I'll be racking up bills for crash bars and other accessories.
My life may be about to get more complicated and if there is anything I don't like it's complications that contain more headache than mischief. Hopefully this reactivation of my scoot-fever will die down if I don't think about it too much. The brochure is within easy reach though.
A tip of the fedora and gratitude to April Streeter (from Sweden!) on treehugger.com for quoting my recent article about sharing the road and providing both attribution and a link. That's professional and we here at Whalehead Enterprises appreciate it.
It's not that great a movie but the final scene scooting along the White Cliffs of Dover feels like many a trip I've taken in other places.
I started off, many years ago on a 50cc Honda Elite four stroke, and I've driven many a 50cc Honda Metropolitan to Death's doorstep. It wasn't until I got a Genuine Stella, however at 150cc, that I needed a motorcycle license.
The Stella and I had a love-hate relationship. It had style. It had a spare tire. The technology was antiquated enough I could figure things out and fix them myself. There are any number of chrome accessories available that I bolted on like a character from the classic scooter film "Quadrophenia" though I didn't dress the part, which isn't to say I am not fashion-obsessed. The downsides were that the scooter is made in India and subcontinental engineering justly doesn't have the reputation of Japanese. While there aren't any plastic parts on a Stella, the whole thing is machined out of a solid block of pig iron. It is heavy. Then again, it had style and chicks dug it.
Like many people, including the Boston Globe, I've been thinking a long time that a motor scooter is the best way to get around our shared metropolitan area and I'm thinking something bigger than 50cc will be more up my alley, spoiled by power as I am. I was headed home on Old Colony Avenue today and I passed Scooters Go Green. What was parked out front but a beautiful avocado Stella... I had to make a tight U-ey over cobblestoned over trolley tracks for a personal inspection. Yeah, the scooter bug bit me again confronted with a replica of my old, trusty steed that gave me more scars on my knees than I can count and dislocated my shoulder. This one had white wall tires and was painted a darker shade of green.
I went into the shop and took a brochure. No shop talk. "This is all I need," I said and I left. Had we discussed the Stella and its price, I am afraid they would have reeled me in with the hook in my mouth. I'm still on the fence. I'm not ready to give up the Ninja and I don't really need two bikes (three counting the one with pedals). Though inexpensive by most standards, I'll be racking up bills for crash bars and other accessories.
My life may be about to get more complicated and if there is anything I don't like it's complications that contain more headache than mischief. Hopefully this reactivation of my scoot-fever will die down if I don't think about it too much. The brochure is within easy reach though.
A tip of the fedora and gratitude to April Streeter (from Sweden!) on treehugger.com for quoting my recent article about sharing the road and providing both attribution and a link. That's professional and we here at Whalehead Enterprises appreciate it.
It's not that great a movie but the final scene scooting along the White Cliffs of Dover feels like many a trip I've taken in other places.
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