When you’re a Jet
Over the last two days the T&G has been covering the non-event of the summer, a minor scuffle after a Telegram & Gazette Summer Basketball League game. I’m having a real hard time parsing what exactly happened which could help explain the response; either something isn’t being reported or a huge deal is being made of nothing. From the articles it sounds like the two teams involved, Doherty and South High, broke into a pushing match after a game Wed night. But the key quote from the director of the league, Khrys King “King said no one got hurt and police weren’t called” seems to conflict with the title of the first story “Games suspended after brawl”. It’s like Worcesters view of gang violence has been shaped by the kind of gang that snaps their fingers in unison and sings show-tunes, is this really what we’re scared of as a society? I don’t mean to play down the potential of escalating violence. I, like many people in Worcester have lost friends to stupidity. But at some point we have to acknowledge the ineffectiveness of ‘zero tolerance’ policies where determining actual, from perceived, threats is concerned.
I’ve been out of HS for some 13 or so years now and the last real memory from my Doherty experience is of 15 good friends getting their asses handed to them by what was essentially every other student at the school. Now that was a brawl. Most of my buddies eyes were swollen shut for weeks from the pummeling. That was 1994, atop Newton Hill at a keg party. No cops came, I don’t even think we woke up the neighbors that night. And there were not many lasting grudges from the fight, because that’s what testosterone fueled adolescent males do best; beat the snot out of each other and quickly get over it. Although that particular night stands out, an entire school population trying to bludgeon you will leave a mark, fights like that were a weekly occurrence. We used to travel to other communities to raid parties and settle petty scores originating from football games, girlfriends or terrible taste in music. It’s what we did for fun. So it’s not like it is new phenomenon, then or now. Is it possible for anyone over 30 who went to HS in Worcester to not remember the interscholastic riots that used to occur after nearly ever football game at Folly Stadium? Like clockwork, cats used to stream down to the old Iandoli Supermarket parking lot on Chandler street where all on field beefs were settled. And who can forget weekend nights at Tatnuck Sq? After barrels at Logan field or Airport hill, that McDonalds parking lot used to be a war zone. Cars would get trashed, fights were a constant, kegs were polished off in the open; good times. But there was an obvious difference between the shit we used to pull and what’s being written off as gang violence today; we were all upper middle class white kids whose parents were cops, firefighters and educators. Good Irish Catholic boys and girls who could be lighting kittens a blaze on the weekends and still do no wrong in the eyes of our parents who were the grease in the city cogs.
It would be a gross oversimplification to say these kids are catching the hammer because of race, but I challenge anyone to argue parts of Worcesters provincial class structure dont allow for some to be categorized as criminals as their peers get labeled future leaders; while both are essentially following an identical path. It always seems like the obvious and reasonable fix to handle problems with a heavy hand in the name of law and order. But if the playing field isn’t level, all that’s really happening is the creation of a criminal class. Worcester doesn’t need that. And if the response to this little brush up is any indication, we certainly are not prepared handle it.
The hills are alive…with creepy old men
Tuesday being the absolutely beautiful day it was, the decision was made to bring the boy up to Green Hill Park and take a look at the little petting zoo/farm they have up there as well as put in some miles on the playground. The last time I was up there for any amount of time was 2002 or so when I partook in a regional disaster drill. My only memories of the petting zoo from my own childhood involve a hazy recollection of a buffalo who looked like he had taken at least as many small caliber rounds as 50 Cent. It was pretty grim, to say the least.
Well, it’s been a long time since I’ve been that pleasantly surprised by a municipal offering. That little zoo, as limited as it is, may be one of the most well maintained animal prisons I’ve seen east of San Diego. Although the llamas look like they could stand a little dental work, but nobody’s perfect. This is in stark contrast to the Worcester Ecoterium which we took a stroll through last month and proved to be all sorts of sad, on so many levels. Busted up bald eagles stuffed into over sized parrot cages; they’re coming off the endangered species list this year folks, we don’t need to prolong the suffering of things we can eat. A few red foxes which were either rabid or hooked on smack, hard to tell in these parts. One lawn mower converted into a choo choo train, which just happened to break down on us. And of course the Ecotarium’s center piece, Kenda the polar bear. I hope to be wrong on this one kids, but Kenda looks insane in that little tank he calls home. Criminally insane. One of these winters during some blizzard of ‘78 style storm, Kenda is going to bust out of that polar pit of despair and eat east Worcester children for sport until going down in a hail of WPD gunfire. That bear doesn’t like Worcester in the same way Eugene Mirman doesn’t like Worcester. Except Eugene Mirman doesn’t have giant sharp teeth perfectly suited for eating toddlers. Watch out Worcester, Kenda has your number.
Back to the actual point here, Green Hill park is looking great. It’s come along way since it’s hunting preserve days in the early 1980’s. Except for one issue I thought went the way of the Paris Cinema. Can someone please tell me there is a non creepy reason why the parking lots were loaded with middle aged men either standing by their cars or driving from lot to lot over and over again? I mean really guys, this is Massafuckingchusetts, you can marry another dude in this state. Does cruising for gay sex in a public park really fit into modern life for anyone who is not a Republican law maker? Go home to your wives and kids, please. Or Providence, even. Just back off the playground a few yards. Worcester parks: Can’t drink in ‘em, but feel free to offer a stranger a handjob after a round of golf.
Walk Score
We can file this nicely into the ‘fuzzy math but kinda-sorta interesting’ category. Walk Score will figure out, on a scale of 0-100, just how walkable your ‘hood is. Using my house as a starting point, Tatnuck Sq in Worcester, MA scored a relatively grim 23. According to them, that means
Driving Only: Virtually no neighborhood destinations within walking range. You can walk from your house to your car!
Not to far off. But what’s most interesting is the expandable lists of nearby stuff, no surprises really, but I can see this sort of thing being a perfect deal maker/breaker for someone about to relocate.
If anyone paying attention feels like playing with this, I’d be interested in seeing how some of your neighborhoods rate in the comments.
Of ice cream and assholes
Who doesn’t love ice cream? Well, besides vegans, the lactose intolerant and cranky people. Nobody, that’s who. So why is it, so many of the people at Worcesters annual ice cream festival on the common Saturday, were not easily recognizable as people at all? This is the sort of event business should shut down for, schools should close for (if we were to pretend that it wasn’t summer and school was in session on saturday, that is) and free shuttles should be moving bodies from every corner of the earth, for. It’s fucking ice cream folks! Instead, a large part of the crowd seemed to be made up of exactly who you would expect to find relaxing the common on any given saturday, folks who woke up shit faced and cats who you might be concerned about contracting hepatitis from. Now, that’s not to say the only people there were derelicts; plenty of families, kids, younger types and general ice cream fans were out in force, but if there was not a douche-bag convention being held in Worcester this weekend color me shocked. How does this happen?
Well let me tell you how this happens. Worcester is still marketing itself like a beat up, run down town. There was a great editorial in WoMag a few weeks back, the first great editorial WoMag has run in some time, which basically made the point that we should hold off pushing our wares on the outside world while we’re still heavily in ‘transition’; but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be selling the shit out of ourselves, to ourselves. The only reason I knew this event was going down at all was because someone on local message board made mention of it on Friday; this person just happens to work downtown so it was pretty hard for her not to notice. As for the rest of us, unless you’re part of whatever bizarre, provincial network exists to clue folks in to these things, you’re shit out of luck. Now, we do have an official marketing department in Worcester, they just don’t seem to have a clue as to how to get word out to the folks who actually want to partake in the cities offerings. One example, pick a city you like. Any city will do, just make it the kind of place where you go because stuff is likely to be happening. Now go to their website, chances are good without much effort you’ll be presented with a bunch of local goings on; in Worcester you get a handful of banged up slogans and an update on street sweeping. Of course you’re only two clicks away from buying tickets to our arena football team, the SURGE, which shares the unfortunate name of the single most unpopular military build-up in American history. Did someone say something about marketing? Right.
I’m sure someone is out there yelling at their monitor about now telling me how wrong I am, that it’s my responsibility to know what’s up, not the cities job to inform me; well try this hat on for size. There is one and only one way to judge the success of a supposedly well marketed and attended public event in Worcester, especially during a particularly tough election year, and that’s by the number of elected officials and their wanna-be successors in the crowd. In the two hours I spent on the common today, not a single candidate for local office was openly making the rounds. These are people who can turn a funeral into successful face time and this was an event purportedly directed towards families who are the likeliest of targets in a budget crunch year. If you can’t make enough noise while promoting your event to ensure a Gary Rosen comb in every hand in attendance, you failed. Hard.
Worcester in general and Children’s Friend in particular, can fuck up Ice Cream. A previously unknown phenomenon. Pete, maybe next year WhizSpark can give them a hand?
Newton tries to have a good time; fails
Just in case sheep buggery wasn’t enough convince you the Metro West tag is no good for Worcester, how does a crack fueled carrot sex toy party turned laptop larceny sound? Crime free Newton my ass.
Newton - A bizarre sexual rendezvous involving carrots and crack cocaine has led to three arrests.
Police charged three people Sunday with stealing a laptop computer from a Newton man as collateral for an insufficient check used for sexual purposes, according to court documents.
According to court documents, Newton resident Brendan O’Neill, 46, of 441 Lowell Ave., wanted to watch Carlton Haynes, 37, Alicia Culipher, 23, and Tara Bowers, 27, shower together in his home.
Bowers said that O’Neill tried “to involve carrots as a type of sex toy” during the episode, according to court documents.
And who uses a personal check to pay for hookers and crack? What do you put in the memo section? “hookers and crack”, I guess.
Barnyard buggery in the Bay State
Since we in Worcester can always use another reason to fight the slow absorption into Metro-West, how’s this one for a back-up.
People in Metro West fuck sheep.
A Sherborn teen was charged yesterday with having sex with sheep at a farm near his home, and police reports suggest the encounters may have gone on for nearly a year.
Between 3 and 4 a.m. on June 27, according to police, the camera captured and filmed a person identified as Roger Henderson II.
The man grabbed a sheep by its hind legs and dragged it to the corner of the stall, according to police. The man removed his clothes and appeared to have sexual relations with the sheep. After finishing, the man put his pants back on and left the barn with his shirt in his hand, according to the report.
See kids, great public schools and a median household income over $120,000 can only lead to one thing, getting caught in the barn with your pants down making sweet love to a startled but otherwise well to-do sheep. Personally I’ll settle for a $35,000 median household income and a few banged up, $20 hookers from Webster any day.
