Left In Lowell

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February 16, 2013

The Chastened Blogger

by at 10:25 pm.

Be careful,” she said smugly, as she sauntered off.

This is a true story. The names are witheld, because it is a learning moment.

Tonight, a buddy of mine scored some tix to the UML v. UMASS hockey game. Good seats, center ice with access to the Pavilion. When we got to the Tsongas, my crew breezed into the blue collar swank of Martyville. It stank of Old Spice and the ladies had their second generation Acre Doos neatly sprayed in place. I have no sales pitch. I ain’t running for anything, so I broke from my gaggle and beelined out the other side. My seat was in the middle of a row, so I plopped in an open end seat and enjoyed the First Period.

With 3 minutes left, the Riverhawks were floundering on the Power Play, so I headed to the can and back to the Pavilion. I may dub it the Hawk Nest. That may never catch on, but you’d be surprised how some of my blog speak has stuck in the Bubble vernacular. I buy myself and the guy that got me in, each a Winter Lager, then got my chat on. Yada Yada … The Lowell Memorial Auditorium … Board of Trustees … Mike Dinneen .. it’s all good. What’s up for the City election? Yada Yada.

There is a table eye balling me. Whatevs. They looked like Brahmin from The Belvidere.

I see one of the City Councilors, then two. One Councilor has the sweetest lady of a wife. So, I stood nearby to offer a quick peck on the cheek and a friendly, “Hello.” She is the best. The circle sort of closed in and I stuck around to chat about the upgrades to the joint. How I had seen the Talking Heads in the Tully Forum. Yada Yada. Pleasant stuff. No politics, that I could discern. Councilors deserve some down time. My crew had headed to their seats.

It was literally, just at about the moment when I was about to make a break for it, offer a jovial, “I’ll let you enjoy the rest of the game … ,” when some strange woman approached me. I got some odd introductory, Belvidere version of Travis Bickle. I was confused, by this. But, then the City Councilors started to say say,”Hi” to this woman. I figured out what I had on my hands.

Let me say this, I respect that she had enough clan loyalty to approach me and make an effort to put me back on my heels. At this point, the Councilors were peeling away. I don’t blame them. These things are sticky. So, it’s me and her. It was civil. At first, I was very subdued. I took the lashing. Mostly because I don’t know how much she actually knows and how much she has been told by others. However, she opted to over emphasize her point and I was more firm. Public people on the public payroll are fair game. Period.

“You don’t know my family,” was a common utterance for the several minutes we mingled. As I think about it here, in the quite of the lamplight, I know she is correct. All of what I know is third party. Some is gossip, but more is printed in the Blog of Record. My tendency is to print the stuff that is verifiable. But, I’ll admit that the gossip colors my perspective, especially, gossip from several credible sources.

The whole episode took minutes. And, as it occured, I was shrunken a bit by the cockiness of a woman that doesn’t weigh a 140lbs, dripping wet. For some reason, maybe because I am aware of my physical size and bearing, I normally shrink when small people get pissy with me. I was genuinely feeling her disgust for me. I was trying to process it. That anger. That violation. That trespass. This was a woman that I would certainly dowse via Fire Marshall approved methods, should I notice any flames emanating from her proximity. She stood her ground. She squared off. I do respect that.

Be careful,” she said smugly, as she sauntered off.

That bit was sketchy and I bristled. By now, I was an island. My crew was watching the game, 400 feet away. The Councilors had hightailed the scene of the crash and I knew it would have been imposing to cozy up to them, looking for affirmation. I was an island, floating in a sea of Old Spice & hair spray vapors. I was, in that moment, the proverbial ‘Leper,’ Paul Belley had warned me about. That moment sucked.

Be careful,” she said smugly, as she sauntered off.

I sauntered off, through the guarded entry, into the crowd of common folks, enthralled by the spirit of sport. Game on!

7 Responses to “The Chastened Blogger”

  1. Karma Says:

    I’m surprised that you are shocked by this individual’s reaction when you’ve admittedly written about her based on gossip. How would you expect someon to react? Before you write about someone you should get out from behind your screen and get to know the person.

  2. Tax Payer Says:

    Annnnnddddddddd the point of this story was? There is no point you ramble and ramble and ramble. No facts of what occurred only that she was small and cocky and etc. Great story

  3. Lynne Says:

    I severely dislike threats. That last comment sounded like a threat. An impotent one, but a threat none the less. I’d have blogged it too. I might have even used names.

    PS since it’s now on the table, Jack, you should explain WHY you were warned you could be a leper. I think it’s only fair I get some credit here!

    Hey Tax Payer - do you ever have anything of substance to add, yourself? Not that I’ve seen.

    RE gossip - Karma - did you read the post? “My tendency is to print the stuff that is verifiable.” That is what we do on this blog. We don’t just post shit on a wall to see what sticks. That’s the Sun’s job.

  4. Jack Says:

    Maybe you could change the Blog’s name, Lynne? Left in Leper? Lepers in Lowell?

  5. Eric J. Says:

    Jack was so chastened he wrote a whole blog-post about it! He’s just dripping with contrition and hand wringing that his writing may have hurt someone’s feelings. Probably lost 2 minutes of sleep over that!!
    Part of every blogger’s reinforcement is picking the scab - that’s just the truth. I don’t think thats a bad thing. For the most part, Big media has given up that role so they can cheerlead and puch their agenda(s).
    Being the skunk at the picnic IS the point. Otherwise, why bother?

  6. Lynne Says:

    Eric kinda nailed it.

    Also, I don’t really care how much some people dislike me. If they don’t like what we do here, it’s a totally free country. But if, say, Rodney Elliot wants to act like an ass on public TV and then expect me to be deferential to him about it…that’s a pretty insane expectation.

  7. Jack Says:

    “…, Big media has given up that role .. ”

    The ‘Big media’ contraction has forced them to whore themselves out, worse than ever. This is so patently obvious in the Blog of Record. For example, how much love can Sal Lupoli stand heaped upon him by Kendall Wallace? But, this is occuring on a national level.

    Bloggers have little to no overhead. Yes, it does cost Lynne something to keep the lights on here, at “Lepers in Lowell.” For me, I just have to invest the time in typing, researching and maintaining an astute, fairly honest political network.

    But, most blogs skip past reporting and straight to editorializing. We pick sides.

    If the ‘Fourth Estate’ could find their way back to reporting, as opposed to shining the hineys of money bags, maybe us skunks could stay in our holes?

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