This is crazy-go-nuts week in the North End. As soon as St. Anthony’s Feast ends, people start moving into the neighborhood as their September leases begin. And with them come all kinds of service personnel with the accompanying trucks – movers, painters, cleaners, rug shampooers, handymen, etc. The blocks are like one big, mean Rubik’s Cube – Person A screams at person B to “move their fucking car”. Person B moves it 2 feet so person A can get by, then moves it back just as person C arrives and the process begins all over again. Remember, these streets were made for horses. And that’s just what they’ll do. One of these days these streets are going to horse all over you.
OK – something else that comes to mind. Remember in Ghostbusters 2 they find the pink slime that reacts to human emotion? It apparently decided to build up under New York City in an old subway line because of all the attitude and distress located in the Big Apple. Somebody open a manhole cover on Hanover Street, pronto. This is obviously why they all blew up last year – forget that natural gas leak theory. We’ve been blaming NStar when we should have been blaming frigging Vigo. We may be in serious trouble – I need only quote the 20th century poet, and fellow Boston native, Bobby Brown for a more romantic explication of the situation:
Too hot to handle, too cold to hold,
They’re called the Ghostbusters and they’re in control.
Had ‘em throwin’ a party for a bunch of children,
While all the while the slime was under the building.
So they packed up their group, got a grip, came equipped,
Grabbed they proton packs off their back and they split.
Found about Vigo, the master of evil,
Try to battle my boys? That’s not legal.
Indeed, Robert. Indeed. Listen, if anyone sees Gozer trying to order a puttanesca at Il Panino Express, get me on the phone. My sister had drinks with Aykroyd once, and I think I may be able to get his number.
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