Thursday, September 13, 2012

Bostonese for the Tourist

Sure I may live in the middle of nowhere now (yes that’s a joke) but at one time, for many years of my life, I grew in the city of Boston. We don’t get the distinction of being called “The City” as any New Yorker knows, but as any Townie knows, we’re “The” Town.

We’re so much “The” Town that we still call it Town if we grew up with Grandparents who were first generation.

No, Ma (Nomar!) I’m goin’ inta’ Town. Get Bobby ta help ya.
They’re a dying breed as more and more people flood The Town as newbies every year. And who could blame them? I mean, talk about per capita number of insanely great schools. But only the wicked hardy folk can make it through a wintah in Winter Hill if ya know what I mean. Yeah, I mean the literal season of winter. That shit is rough.

We’re the ones with the accent. I mean, too many famous people live in New York so there’s really no accent anymore. Right? I really have no clue if that’s true at all because I don’t live there now, nor have I ever lived there. Not to mention, nor do I ever plan to. Ugh, shudder, no. Way too much ‘overwhelming-ness of everything’ in Manhattan for me to handle. Even Boston was too much at times.

So last summer I guess you could say I put that “whole town in my reAH view” when Matt and I moved to Phoenix.

Yeah, I like metro Phoenix. You get all of the New York food, attitude, nightlife, fashion, sports (though the Coyotes are much more Boston in the loyalty style of the fan base and YES there is a fan base for hockey in the desert). But you don’t have to deal with any of the drama of the subways, smell of trash wafting to the sky, honking/ambulance sirens at all times, number of people crammed together in such a small space.

But not too many people came here from Boston. At least not that I’ve found just yet. I guess all us Irish think the sun will melt us or something. Well I haven’t fallen into a puddle of goo yet. Plus, I know it might be a big secret we transplant types aren’t supposed to reveal but my skin has never looked better and I’ve never felt healthier since I’ve lived here. Especially mentally. We get sky here. And sunshine. And just like the northeast we have 3 months of really extreme weather.

Only difference is we need cooling as opposed to heat. And the good news there is that cooling is way cheaper to pay for than heat. Plus there are pools to cool off in. Plus, there are lakes to cool off in too. And mountains. And the coast is only three hours away if you go to Mexico.

So anyway, because I’m one of very few Boston newbies in Phoenix of course I’m going to tell everyone how wicked pissa The Town is right? Because I want them to go and check it out if they haven’t already. See the sights, meet the Townies, eat the food, get a hug from Gramma on the way out the door. Oh & honey, grab her a beer on the way past the fridge before you go, would ya’?

You’re a doll.

5 comments:

Judi FitzPatrick said...

Wicked awesome!
Love, Your Mudda

lettersfromlaunna said...

So incredibly funny and entertaining Jenn:)

Sue FitzPatrick said...

Goin' to Town tomorra - maybe I'll see ya thear.

Insomniac #4 said...

Lol... wicked pissa. What does that even mean? I lived in NE most of my life and I still can't speak Bostonese. I really must spend more time in the town.

Also, I can't say 'Jon Lester' anymore. Ever since my wife started calling him "Jawn Lestah" I have to exaggerate his name as much as possible.

That might be the extent of my Bostonese :)

Jenn Flynn-Shon said...

Gettin peet-zer with my Ahnt in Town. Wicked fun!

Red Sox players truly have had the best Boston appropriate names - Lestah, Nomah, Pedroier - because we put the R in when there's an A at the end of a word and use AH in place of R ending words. The accent is delicate though, it has to happen naturally, it sounds fake when it is fake.

Wicked pissa = kick ass