Nieghborhood goodwill

The annual poinsettia exchange took place today under inclement conditions. As usual, the event took place on the second Wednesday in December.  The day was chosen because Wednesday is the middle day of the week and the exchange takes place equidistant between two of Dorchester's more prominent neighborhoods:  Upham's Corner and Field's Corner. 

Since 1989 Elmer Washe rand Eunice Tubbs have been exchanging Christmas plants after they got in a nasty spat in the summer of that year.  Mr. Washer lives in Upham's Corner and he is proud of his surroundings, having been born and raised an apple core's throw from Edward Everett Square.  Ms. Tubbs had written a letter to the Dorchester Reporter that June belittling the hygienic standards of sidewalk maintenance in Upham's Corner and, while the letter never saw print, it did reach Mr. Washer's attention.  A poison penpal relationship was soon established with doleful mailmen trudging between Mr. Washer's address and Ms. Tubbs' three decker in Field's Corner. 

The whole exchange came to a head during the dog days of August when Mr. Tubbs, in a fit of pique, arranged for the FTD florist to deliver a bouquet of dead roses to Ms. Tubbs address.  A stony, stampless silence followed from Field's Corner until December when Ms. Tubbs employed the FTD florist to deliver a poinsettia to Mr. Washer.

In the spirit of brotherly love, Ms. Tubbs had broken the ice.  Now the two meet every year to exchange poinsettias, neighbor to neighbor, one part of Dorchester to another.  They meet face to face at an eatery near Meeting House hill, for the past few years at Mythos Pizza on Bowdoin Street.  It is always a cordial meeting and it is the only time these two one-time adversaries see each other.  They exchange pleasantries and wish each other happy holidays and good cheer for the upcoming new year.  Mr. Washer is a Christian Scientist.  Ms. Tubbs recently converted to Buddhism at the Park Street temple in Field's Corner after spending many years attending Saint Ambrose Catholic Church.

Hazardous flower petals

My usual route entails taking Howes Street off Dot Ave to Pleasant and then a quick right onto Willis Street, to Bakersfield, which runs to Stoughton and then Dudley Street and a straight, if congested, shot to points beyond. I avoid a lot of traffic-related headaches this way.

While there is little traffic on Willis Street, there are other hazards. I tend to look up at one of the houses to see the bowling pins in the second story window when I pass. They are a kind of landmark that lets me know I am so far on my journey. Willis Street is a tree-lined one, with the kind of trees that have arching branches obscuring the sky. This time of year they are all abloom and they have turned the dull, gray, pockmarked pavement found most everywhere in Boston, into a carpet of flower petals and pollen. It is one of the prettiest streets in Dorchester this time of year, a paean to Spring's perennial fertility. I worry that this beauty may have its dark side.

While it is seductive to take Willis Street, for the above mentioned reasons, the threat of rain makes me think twice. While I am gawking about looking for bowling pins, someone may pull out of their parking space while it's raining. In that case, the flower petals which are so soothing to the eye during dry weather may in fact turn into that nemesis haunts every motorcyclist. Remember: wet leaves are like ice! I would hate to be zipping along in my usual reverie and have to pull tightly on the front brake, thus landing on my head. The EMTs would say, "It was the fall that broke his neck, but the cherry blossoms made it possible."

Peppermint Squad Assemble!!

Springtime again. The squirrels are out and the jonquils are poking up their heads; perhaps of more immediate interest, the Peppermint Squad has reassembled to full strength. Though maintaining a skeleton crew to man HQ and the dojo during winter months, the call went out the other night for the full ranks to convene today, March 28. Text messages clotted the airwaves and Bellringer Smith rode around Boston on his Honda Ruckus, parking at predetermined locations to play the tom tom loudly enough for all squad members to get the message.

At 8:00 AM, after coffee and eggs at Saints Diner, the Peppermint Squad assembled at their headquarters off Codman Square. Children were out and about on the sidewalks marvelling at all the motor scooters on Talbot Ave and Norfolk Ave. Their parents rolled their eyes at the buzzing cavalcade splitting lanes and zipping through traffic according to rules only a vesparado knows.

The usual suspects were in attendance: Tiny Phillips, Peanut Jones, Oyster Stew, Cherrypicker, Widowmaker, Flora, Bella Donna...etc. There were some newcomers as well. All the scooters were freshly washed and polished, chrome sparkling in the sun.

Tiny Phillips called the meeting to order and administered the Peppermint Oath for another year. He stepped down as squad leader and a secret ballot was conducted. A new leader was selected: For FY2009, Flora will be the Peppermint Squad's Commandant and Grand Biclops. With a current slate of officers elected and no old business to conclude, the squad rallied in formation and travelled down Melville Street to Dot Ave, down to Lower Mills, along River Road to Mattapan Square and then up to Simco where they dined on celebratory hot dogs, sharing the bridge over the commuter rail tracks with a group of Baptists who had just gotten out of church.

Widowmaker

Flora was talking to Bo'sun Jones this morning. They were enjoying coffees from the Mud House on Neponset Avenue while tidying up the club house after last night's supermarket sushi-and-pepperoncini blowout. The food was washed down with longnecks of Narragansett lager and beer and pickle juice was spilled everywhere. It was a night to forget, especially the moment Tweedledum laughed so hard some orange roe came out his nose.

Flora gets off work early at the wholesale Boston Flower Market and she doesn't mind being assigned clean up patrol. Someone has to do the dirty work and Bo'sun has taught her to handle a mop like a professional. As for Bo'sun, he does whatever task is demanded to keep the Peppermint Squad on an even keel.

Flora was sweeping up bottle caps and picking out the ones with rebuses printed on them. These were destined for the 'Puzzle Jar' that inductees use to show they have the smarts to join the Peppermint Squad. She said to Bo'sun, "I don't like Widowmaker. I don't know why he's allowed to be a squad member."

Agent Widowmaker earned his name honestly. He rides a no-brand scooter shaped like a Chinese insect that has the name "Princess Go-Go" in factory, chome-colored plastic over both rear wheel wells. The scooter is pinkish, more salmon than pink. It stands out in traffic and that is why he chose it. Widowmaker used to be known as Mr. Clean, but he was involved in some reckless lanesplitting around Roxbury Crossing and he killed a man who was trying to read the Metro and cross the street at the same time. Pedestrians have the right of way and Mr. Clean was at fault. The papers called him Widowmaker and the name has stuck to this day.

Bo'sun said, "The man rides two wheels and he keeps his engine under the seat. That makes him one of us."

Flora said, "But he's a convicted killer. Having him in the Peppermint Squad gives the squad a black eye."

Bo'sun dunked his mop in the bucket and pulled it out. He sloshed the mop head on the floor. "Even a black eye can see a good man," he said. "Nobody's perfect and it takes guts for a man to get back on a scoot again after he's taken another man's life. It takes guts for a man to ride a girly scooter. It takes guts for a man to be able to ride in formation with the Peppermint Squad."

The phone rang and Bo'sun answered it. When he hung up he said, "Saddle up, Flora. That was Peepeye. Someone's taking candy from a baby in front of the Ashmont Grill. We've got to intervene. We can continue this conversation later."

Flora put on her helmet and gloves. Bo'sun put on his. They mounted thier scoots and fired the engines. Before they sped off to trouble they flashed each other the Peppermint Sign. Their differences of opinion were left on the clubhouse floor as the buzzed out on patrol.

Pitching Woo

One of the Peppermint Squad's more recent members is Susan Batchelder (not her real name). She is aged 32, 5'4" tall, 175 lbs, and has shoulder length, blonde hair. She generally wears Dickies brand clothing in keeping with her occupation, which is a forklift driver at one of the flower warehouses along Albany Avenue (name withheld by request). If you want to know Ms. Batchelder's real name, she will respond to 'Flora' which is her nom-de-pax since she joined the Peppermint Squad.

Flora is the Squad's self-appointed Emissary of Woo. Her position has been written into the club's constitution since she was recruited into the fold. If you see a stocky woman scooting around town with a satchel stuffed full of variously colored carnations over her shoulder, you will know that Dorchester's Peppermint Squad is involved in community outreach, trying to build a more romantic Boston, one couple at a time.

As Flora explains it: "I've had a lot of dud boyfreinds in my time. A lot. What woman hasn't? Since I work in the flower business I decided to do something about it. I get to the flower market before most of the city is awake. The flowers arrive on trucks from Logan and some come up from New York. We unload the trucks and give all the florists in Boston thier quota and there is always a palette or so left over. These keep til the next day but like milk, who wants flowers about to expire? My boss used to throw them away but now I take the carnations and I go about my mission."

Flora says: "I take my scooter out after 5:00 in the afternoon and I stuff my messenger bag with as many carnations it will hold. Carnations can take a lot of abuse and the streets really jostle the parcel around. Whenever I see a couple hand in hand, I stop and give the swain a carnation and tell him to offer it to his or her date. I suggest a little poetry or I talk to the recipient and ask what he or she would like to hear. In this way, I encourage expressing emotion and building emotional connections through the use of flowers. I'm the FTD boy but I'm a woman and I don't have winged shoes; I just have this no-name Chinese scooter to make my deliveries."

Flora continues: "I'm like cupid. I see love blooming and I try to make it ripe. I see a connection and I try to make the contact spark. I'm not a florist. I don't make arrangements and I don't sell anything. I stop where I seem to be needed to turn the romance up a notch from simmer to, maybe, parboil. I can't work miracles but I can brighten some couple's day and let them know there is more to dating than spending time together. Romance is about gesture and quality, not just face time."

Flora is currently single and that is why she requested her real name not be used.