The meeting was like this blog post: LONG

Five months ago I moved in with Captain and in the process I became a resident of the “Fort Point Community.” Captain is an active member of the Fort Point Neighborhood Association. Couples have their individual interests and I assumed this would be one of his.

A few weeks ago Captain asks,

“Do you want to come to the Fort Point Neighborhood Association meeting tomorrow night?”

“What’s it about?”

“They’re announcing that they’re hanging up Fort Point banners.”

The Fort Point Neighborhood Association is facing a branding issue. Everyone refers to where we live as the Boston Seaport or the Waterfront. Which sounds like a place I might like to live. The Neighborhood Association wants to be clear that we’re living in the historical Fort Point area. I thought what matters is what sells real estate and all I get when I say “Fort Point” are blank stares and questions,

“I just moved.”

“Where?”

“Fort Point.”

“Where’s that?”

“Near South Station.”

“Oh.”

Or the conversation can go like this:

“I just moved.”

“Where?”

“The Seaport.”

“Nice.”

So Captain asks,

“Do you want to go to the meeting?”

Keep in mind these are meetings that Captain goes to and doesn’t come back from for 3 hours. I ask him,

“On a scale of 1 to 10 how badly do you want me to be there? Ten being you’re dying for me to be there and one being you don’t care if I’m there at all.”

“Five.”

I skipped the meeting.

This week Captain tries again,

“Do you want to go to the meeting?”

“No, but I’m getting the feeling you’d like me to go.”

“We can leave after an hour if you want.”

That’s all I need to hear. We wander in. There’s a generous amount of older people. Which I expected, but there are more people my age than I thought. That means there’s one other person my age. There’s food. Restaurants donate food for these meetings in the hopes of drumming up new business. This is how I know I don’t live in Somerville anymore. No one there was giving me free dinners.

I stuff my face while the meeting moderator covers neighborhood updates and takes complaints. I nudge Captain every time someone says something ridiculous, but then I stop or else the whole meeting would be non-stop nudging. A sampling of complaints below:

“There’s a lot of trash under the A St. Bridge.”

“Yes I’ve noticed more litter than usual.”

“People aren’t moving their cars for street cleaning so there’s a lot of trash between the cars and the curbs.”

“Are there more planes flying in? I’ve noticed an increase in the flight patterns and I don’t like it.”

Everyone nods and agrees. The airport traffic is out of control.

The thing is, the airport moved in way before the Fort Point Neighborhood Association had one complainer.

I’m finding it very hard to take any of the complaints seriously. The moderator asks,

“Are there any services people would like?”

And before I know what’s happening, I shout,

“We need a grocery store!”

There are some nods. Not as many as the airplane complainer got.

The local cops are on the scene to give us an update on crime in the neighborhood. There isn’t any. So in lieu of that, they give us an update on crimes in the surrounding areas. If you thought the complaints were boring, then listening to a recount of fender benders that didn’t happen in our neighborhood takes the boredom to a whole other level.

Captain nudges me. He whispers,

“Do you want to go?”

“No way!” My blog is writing itself.

We settle in for the meat of the meeting: Verizon’s 5 year deal with the City of Boston to bring the National Indie Car Race to our neighborhood streets. That’s right, starting in 2016 Boston will have its very own Grand Prix and I’ll be able to watch it from my bed.

Eight years ago I worked the Monaco Grand Prix. It’s a huge, loud, 3 day circus, that includes two hours of actual racing. It’s awesome.

The Grand Prix guy opens the floor for questions from the Neighborhood Association. The airplane complainer asks,

“Are the cars loud?”

She should consider moving. The cars are more than loud. The Grand Prix guy tries to reassure her,

“The cars have jet propulsion engines, so they’re loud, but don’t worry, they’re not so loud that they’ll break any windows.”

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