As I've mentioned before, the Metro is my favorite paper. Both ironically and non-ironically. It's free, it's exactly the correct length to read cover to cover from Braintree to Park Street, and when they run out of space for an article, it just ends mid-sentence. I come for the free news, but I stay for the hilarious typos.

While not technically a typo, one thing that always gets me is when a story reads "on yesterday" as opposed to just "yesterday" or "on Monday/Tuesday/Whatever day preceded this one." I don't know if "on yesterday" is grammatically correct (although I'm almost positive it isn't), but it definitely sounds...off. I can only assume all the "on yesterdays" are the result of a computer program that automatically changes the name of a weekday to "yesterday" if it falls on the day before the story was written. My favorite example of this, and the best proof I have that it's the doing of a cold, emotionless computer program and not a living human being that just happens to think "on yesterday" has a certain ring to it, came a few weeks ago. It was the day after Martin Luther King Day, and the article explained that "King's birthday is Jan. 15, but the federal holiday bearing his name is observed on the third yesterday in January."



For the record, the third yesterday in January is January 2.

Today's top story was that crime on the T is down from last year. Or, violent crime, anyway. Less people are getting shot, stabbed or robbed, but weird old guys are still coping feels at their usual clip. Anyway, the first line of the article is "Violent crime on the Mata hit a 10-year low in 2007." What the hell is Mata? Did they mean MBTA? Mata shows up four times in the article, each time with only the M capitalized. Mata. Mata! I thought that maybe Mata was a separate entity from the MBTA, and it just so happened that I'd never heard it mentioned until now. But a much better and more accurate thought would be that the Metro editors take the short bus in to work. And good for them, working in a real office. God bless those goofy bastards.

Meanwhile, everyone's favorite ebony and ivory ragamuffins, Shawn and, um...Shawna, have been sleeping in front of the door every day this week, staying later and later each morning. This morning I walked by the door and saw the familiar gray hump obstructing my path, so I decided to go get some coffee instead of trying to do that weird dance to get past them and open the door. I went down the street, got a coffee and donut and leisurely read the Metro. After twenty minutes or so, I headed back to the office, thinking I'd given them enough time to either get up on their own, or be kicked out by one of the less passive occupants. But no, there they were, still blocking the door, still smelling like urine.

A guy from the sixth floor had some clients with them this morning and couldn't get in because they were blocking the door. The guy said he was going to call the cops. That's the second time in as many days that someone's threatened police involvement. I don't think I like where this is headed. There's going to be a confrontation. I hate those. I don't know if it's going to come to actual physical contact, or if we're going to come in one morning and find a revenge dump spattered all over the entranceway. Either way, it won't be pretty.

It's been really cold the past few days, and I feel terrible that anyone has to sleep (and hump...ugh) outside, but by now they have to know this building has several businesses in it, and people start coming and going early in the morning, so it makes sense for all parties involved if they packed up and found some new digs. There's a church across the street, I've seen some guys sleeping on the steps. Unless that spot's already been claimed. Some of these guys are territorial. Maybe that explains the huge turd in front of Brooks Brothers. Well, there's a ton of other doorways on this end of the street alone. Hell, the place across the street has had a For Rent sign since we moved in here. They could sleep and crap and hump over in that doorway 'til their hearts' content. It's win-win, right?

UPDATE! They weren't there on Wednesday morning. That was anti-climactic.

Labels: homeless, Metro, typos

posted by John at 2:52 PM

It's kind of weird that some of Boston's homeless have achieved levels of fame reserved for heads of state, and a select few have even shot through the stratosphere to stand shoulder to shoulder with coked-up celebutantes and reality show contestants in terms of name recognition. But of all the homeless people in the area that I've heard of, Mr. Butch wasn't one of them. He may not have had a roof over his head, but he's got his own Wikipedia entry, so he's one up on me. Despite my ignorance, Mr. Butch was an icon in the Kenmore area for three decades. He even had a following in the local music scene and played a few clubs in the 80s. Sadly, Mr. Butch died this month after an accident on his Vespa scooter.

Friday's Metro had an article about "a New Orleans style procession through the streets of Allston" and a tribute to Mr. Butch Sunday night. It also had, due to an unfortunate editorial decision, an ad for Herb Chambers Vespa scooters on the same page.



Until then, I'd never even seen an ad for a scooter. And now, of all the days, of all the pages, of all the gin joints in all the world, they stick it six inches below the Mr. Butch article.

This sort of thing happens all the time on the internet. You write a fiery 2,000 word denouncement of cheese, going into intricate detail about how much you hate cheese and how you're sure that cheese will usher in the apocalypse. And after all that, what lines the borders of your anti-cheese revolution? Google Ads for cheese! Serves you right. Who doesn't like cheese?

At least online that makes sense. Google Ads just look for the most common word on the page, they can't make the distinction between whether you're for or against something. But a human being made a conscious decision to run the scooter ad on the same page as the story about someone who died on one of those same scooters. The ad says "These days, Vespa scooters make more sense than ever." Ostensibly, they meant that with gas prices being what they are, scooters offer a more economic, fuel efficient alternative. Or maybe the Scooter Libby trial brought scooters back into the forefront of the public psyche at a level not seen since the Muppets. But paired with that article, it sounds like they're saying, "Vespa scooters help reduce the homeless population."

I waited all weekend to for the backlash on the letters page, similar to the time they ran an ad for an upcoming gun show alongside an article about a preteen who fatally shot a cousin with handgun left out where he could find it. But there was nothing about it today. The common Metro letter writer, regardless of age, gender or political stripe, all share the same intensity and passion about whatever topic they're angry about. The people I count on to overreact and blow the simplest things way out of proportion didn't jump on this. I feel let down. What would Mr. Butch say? I don't know, I've never even heard of him until after he died. But come on, I expect the letters page to contain something a bit more entertaining than volleys between the pro- and con- trans-fat-ban camps. Hey, that's only one letter away from being trans-fat-band camps, which I imagine is like band camp for overweight transsexuals. This one time at Trans Fat Band Camp...

Anyway, the letter writers may have let me down, but today's Metro featured a front page headline proclaiming Mitt Romney compared Hillary's economic plan to "Socialist Karl Marz". See, that's why I love the Metro. Way more typos than the stuffy Globe, yet not tacky and unapologetically tabloid-y like the Herald, and not sad and desperate like Boston Now.

Labels: accident, death, homeless, Metro, news

posted by John at 12:00 PM