Monthly Archives: November 2014

Take that question and ….

Really, Boston Media Consortium? This is the best that Boston’s finest journalists can come up with? This is how you choose to spend your question, your precious time with the candidates running for Governor of Massachusetts? You ask them when they cried last? Really?

By now, everyone has heard about Charlie Baker’s teary-eyed retelling of an encounter with a yet-to-be-found New Bedford fisherman, while Martha Coakley watched and blinked, presumably trying to figure out how she was supposed to act while her opponent put his head in his hands and brushed away tears.

Heaven help us all. We’re doomed, doomed I tell you, doomed.

Janet Wu, the only woman on the panel (don’t even go there), asked the question, simply: when was the last time you cried? She asked it just like it meant something, just as if she asked what they felt about raising the sales tax. Coakley answered first, recounting, with poise and not tears, but with the appropriate seriousness, that she had been to a funeral that very day. Then Charlie Baker said that just a few days before he had recounted a story of a big New Bedford fisherman, all salty and sweaty…and they hugged.

Wish I had seen that, in his zillion-dollar suit hugging the fisherman who was just getting into port. Puleeease, I bet the guy’s wife won’t even hug him until he takes a shower after just getting off the boat and unloading his catch.

Let’s just crank up those stereotypes, huh?

But I digress. The point is, it was a stupid question. Who cares when they cried last or what makes them cry? I don’t want a governor who cries. I want someone who can get stuff done. Any idiot can cry.

Of course, that’s not what the media is focused on. They are all acting like it was a perfectly good question that deserved an answer. I guess since Bill Clinton decided to tell us if he wore boxers or briefs, anything goes.

Now the venerable members of Boston’s storied press corps are all trying to find the elusive fisherman. Long live investigative journalism.

According to Baker, the big, burly mountain of a man who was all sweaty and salt-watery, said he stopped his two sons from going to college, even though they had football scholarships, because he wanted them to be fishermen, too. Family tradition and all. As if New Bedford fishermen don’t know that college men can be fishermen, too.

He doesn’t sound like he’s from any fishing families I know. At least not in this lifetime. Maybe if you found a man in his 80s, you’d find that tale to be a little more believable. After all, back in the day, fishing made more money than any college job. Not now. It still can, but for a dwindling number of people.

Most of the fishing families I know send their kids to college. Then, if the kids want to work in the fishing industry, fine…but they’re going to college first. Heck, lots of ’em work on the boats in the summer to pay for school.

A father with sons in high school in this millennium who forbids his sons to go to college on a scholarship because he’d rather see them fishing?

Okay, I’ll bite: Where is this guy. (Psst….Hey Buddy, whoever you are. Keep your head down. Let Baker sink or swim on his own, because you can’t save him, you can only sink with him.)

As for New Bedford? We’re just glad someone’s talking about us and our fishing industry. At least Baker knows we have a fishing port here. I wonder if he knows we DON’T have a train to Boston?

Another stupid question, because it doesn’t matter if he knows. It matters if he cares. And he probably doesn’t.

Next time, I hope the candidates just say, “I’m not answering that question. It’s no one’s business what makes me cry or when I cried last. Crying is private.”

I can dream, can’t I?