I’ve never made it to the parade in Southie on St. Patrick’s Day, but I’ve certainly tried. One year I got as far as the Broadway Bridge and realized I was having a hard time walking and it wasn’t even noon, so I turned back. Another year, I actually parked and starting walking up A Street when I got a call and a better idea, so I left. Over the last few years, frankly, I haven’t even tried. It’s certainly not for a lack of interest, or because I don’t want to see with my own eyes the shit show that so many people say it is. I genuinely want to share in a very Boston experience, even if it means getting puke on my shoes and punched by Scumbag Steve. Maybe this will be the year.
One thing I do see every year as I bounce from pub to pub, though, is the Dig on corner bars and side tables, tucked under a sleeping head and sometimes just used as a coaster. The reason for this is quite deliberate, the Irish pubs were the first place I delivered the paper to when I started it back in 1999. The owners all seemed to hate the Boston Phoenix and apparently they appreciated my love of beer, but the reason behind the reason runs a little deeper. The first pub, and first advertiser ever, was Tir na nOg in Union Square, Somerville, and it was in there that I met Paddy Grace. At the time, he was the owner of the Littlest Bar but he was also the unofficial gatekeeper for all things publican. Over several pints, and probably several hours, Paddy painted a picture of the Irish pub network that surrounded me, dropping names and telling me which place to go to next and exactly why. I never looked back, and to this day, many of those same pubs are still the best places to find a friendly face, some peace of mind, and a Dig to read. Thank you, Paddy. The next round’s on me.
While beer and boiled plates are the main focus for many this week, this issue is chock-full of great content to get you through the in-between. Our cover hero and New England Revolution rock star, Diego Fagundez, spent some time telling us what makes him tick. For the serious soccer fan, it’s a must-read. We also get our hands dirty uncovering the bizarre world of the Boston liquor license, the powers that hold the keys to them, and those who are responsible for screwing it all up. We even cover some up-and-coming A&E with a few Spring Preview highlights that you’ll definitely want to check out. In other words, it’s the usual mix of master wordsmiths … so pour yourself a tall one and get busy.
Jeff Lawrence, DigBoston Publisher + Editor
OH, CRUEL WORLD
Dear Guy at Party,
You stood right next to the goddamn bar the whole night, so I couldn’t really keep away from you or your ridiculous opinions as much as I would have liked to. You’re handsome, with an extremely hot girlfriend, and like her you say things that most average-looking people like me wouldn’t vomit while drinking Cuervo. Especially this whole hipster conservative thing you have going. It’s sad, and you aren’t very smart. Maybe you should run for president, but in the meantime you’re the reason that I more or less avoid parties, even though I like parties. I’m sure I’m not the only one.