How to tell You’re From Boston..

So, I’m taking one of my leisurely bike rides around our fair city one day. I’m stopped on Beacon street, heading west, a few blocks down from the state house. Ahh, the state house! The place where our laws are made. The place where our duly elected representatives are hard at work, making the state of MA, and our nation, a better place to live. Done laughing yet? Good. Anyway..
This middle aged woman, and a man of about the same age, approached me with looks of total bewilderment. The man had a book in his hands. I couldn’t read most of the title, but one part of the cover said Guide to,, and the rest was obscured. Both were dressed in classic tourist style.

The woman looks at me, and in a gravely voice that suggested a lifetime of smoking, asked Excuse me, could you tell us where the cheers bar is? I was dumbfounded for several seconds. I honestly did not know what she was talking about. The Cheers Bar? Then it emerged from some lower level in my mind. Ahh, The Cheers Bar! What she really meant was the bar formerly known as the Bull and Finch pub, located a few blocks down from the State House. The place that was the setting of one of those long-running sitcoms that I might have watched twice.

I told them where it was, and seeing as how they were already on Beacon street, they were heading in the right direction. A few steps I told them, And you’re there. They thanked me for the directions, and lumbered (Yes, lumbered is correct) in the direction of the Cheers Bar. After I got home, and settled into some food from my favorite Italian place, I pondered the fact that I have lived here my entire life, and have never set foot inside the Cheers Bar. Not that I’m much of a bar person anyway. Irish pubs tend to be nice and friendly, with good food and Guinness, and there’s a place downtown called Jacob Wirth & Company, that has always had some delicious sandwiches and soups, but aside from that, I’m really not much of a bar person. So I wondered if any of my friends and coworkers had ever been there. Not surprisingly, the answer was usually no. One of my coworkers mentioned that a cousin and her friend had visited once, and the Cheers Bar was the first thing in Boston they wanted to see. Aside from that one time, he had never set foot in the place either.

Do you see where I’m going with this? Native Bostonians don’t go to the Cheers Bar. They never have. So, I’m wondering just what other things native Bostonians do, or don’t do. I think I’ve come with a pretty good, but by no means complete, list. To wit,,

Native Bostonians:

– Know that good Italian food does not, repeat, does not, come from the Olive Garden.

– Have never been to something called Red Lobster.

– Don’t use directional signals when driving. After all, this is like giving information to the enemy.

– Know where everything is, in relation to Dunkin Donuts. Example: You head down comm ave, and pass two Dunkin Donuts. Turn right at the second Dunkin Donuts, and you’ll come to the T stop.

– Went to a public high school where even the cafeteria knew how to make a decent clam chowder, and really good spaghetti.

– Never speak the name Bill Buckner, in public. Ever.

– Walk around in January with their coats unzipped or unbuttoned. No one thinks anything is strange about this.

– Refer to the state police as The Staties.

– Know that the toughest, most feared law enforcement officers in town are not the Boston Police, or even the Staties, but the meter maids. You do not mess with a Boston meter maid. End of discussion. Second most feared group: The parking enforcement men who install the dreaded Denver Boot on cars. Known by some as The Boot Guys.

– Refer to the Tobin bride as the Mystic River Bridge. That’s what we’ve always called it.

– Refer to the Zakim bridge as that bridge with all the cables.

– Refer to the TD Banknorth Garden as The Boston Garden. That’s what we’ve always called it.

– Head into Dunkin Donuts on a January day, when it’s five degrees outside, the wind is gusting to 30, and the windchill factor is well below zero. Once inside Dunkin Donuts, they order a large coffee. (Keep the yuppie stuff at Starbucks, where it belongs) and a double chocolate donut or even two. Once these are consumed, they head back out into that arctic cold, look to the sky, laugh, and say, Is that it? Is that all you’ve got?

– Know what the old expression Banned in Boston, meant.

– Miss Don Kent’s weather forecasts.

– Know what a frappe is.

– Know what Jimmies are.

– Think that Tobasco is the hottest sauce there is.

– Actually think that Heinz Ketchup is spicy.

– Know that there is no tunnel under the cape cod canal, despite the large number of  Cape Cod Canal Tunnel permits seen on cars. (Theory on this below)

– Have played hookey from work or school on at least one occasion, to attend a game at Fenway Park.

– Know that when you go to the North End, whether it’s for a pizza, or just a good italian meal, to be consumed with some really good wine, you show respect to the residents of said North End.

– Never, ever, even consider wearing orange, or anything that resembles Union Jack, on Saint Patrick’s Day. Doing so will result in one very ugly situation.

And that is my list, dear reader.

Now, an explanation on this Tunnel Thing. Folks, there is no Cape Cod Canal Tunnel. There never was, nor is there likely to be. And yet, all over, you see these Cape Cod Canal Tunnel permits on cars. It’s a long-running joke. No one knows who started it. One theory says it was begun by cadets at the Mass Maritime Academy. Others say it was simply started by Cape Cod locals, who were fed up with tourists asking if there was another way on or off the cape, besides the two bridges. Uh, no folks, there is not.

But by all means, keep selling those permits, it’s quite funny. Who knows, maybe next, Greyhound will offer bus service to Bermuda.

Uh,,, Cheers.

Bruce B.