Imagine my surprise when I plopped a quarter into a South End parking meter recently and it said “.25 cents per hour.” Once I was done doing my happy dance, I couldn’t resist tweeting it out, and almost immediately I got a response from the Boston Globe stating that this discounted rate was due to “flex rates” based on a new system City Hall was testing that married demand and supply. Thank goodness for the Secondary Gray Lady having some insight as to why it was so cheap and eagerly sharing that info via social media. Too bad the truth hurts and all that glitters ain’t gold.
When the City of Boston and its current hizzoner put our public meters out to bid and opened up the floodgates to multiple private companies to offer “solutions” to a non-vexing problem, who would have thunk that one would be paid for its services while another provided it at no cost. We thunk about it, and Chris Faraone got busy right quick as to the who, what, where, when, and why of this latest and greatest municipal trap door. His words are here in print and online for your angered and frustrated consideration.
This is a great example of how DigBoston thinks, works, writes, and investigates what goes on in our fair town from the perspective of living in said fair town. We breath it and bring to light anything and everything that raises an eyebrow and passes the stink test. It’s not about a boardroom brainstorming session as much as it’s about a real-life experience, and not just ours. We get daily tips and trips from Bostonians and beyond that also lead us down a rabbithole, so it’s about all of us, not just some of us.
Keep those coming, and we’ll continue to keep it coming.
Jeff Lawrence, DigBoston Publisher + Editor
OH, CRUEL WORLD
Dear Winter Boots,
I paid like $400 for you two years ago. “You’ll have them for the rest of your life,” the sales fuck told me. He must not realize that I plan on living well into 2017, that is if the treads on these pieces of garbage don’t completely shred before the end of this year, causing me to slide across Mass Ave and collide head-first into a bus thanks to these overpriced ice skates. Before I got my tax return and decided to splurge on you, I kind of assumed that people who wore absurdly expensive boots were assholes who could easily get by with Timberlands or something practical of that sort. It was a pricey lesson, but at least now I know that I was right.