“Evereyone around him is wondering . . . can he do it again or is he finished no matter what he does?”
– The Blue Suit speaking with Josh Resnek
By JOSH RESNEK
Over time, the mayor’s Blue Suit and I have become pretty good friends. We love our get togethers. For both of us, what we talk about always leads to a better understanding of how the political and social world in Everett works – and of how and what about the mayor thinks.
No one in this city knows more about the mayor than his Blue Suit.
They have been stuck to one another for a decade.
They are a bit like Siamese twins at this point.
‘Where he goes, I go. What he thinks and says, I listen to and make mental notes. I don’t forget anything. Thank God I haven’t yet been called before a grand jury to answer questions about the mayor’s criminal actions. Believe me, if I am called, I will tell all, everything, every last bit. I do not want to spend time in court or go to jail with him,” the Blue Suit told me early Monday afternoon.
He was in my red Honda Fit with me.
“I much prefer the mayor’s white Mercedes,” he said to me. “I’m not the mayor,” I answered.
“No kidding, Josh,” he retorted. “Maybe you’d have a better car if you were!” her added.
We were stopped at the red light where Chelsea meets Everett at the corner of the Revere Beach Parkway and Chelsea Street. We were heading North on the Parkway.
At the red light, we watched with a bit of awe the beggars walking up and down a path that has been cut into the grass on the highway divider.
The beggars walk up and down that path all day everyday holding out the hope of scoring some cash from drivers stopped at the light.
“This is Carlo’s Everett success story,” the Blue Suit said to me. “Beggars in rags walking up and down the path across the street from huge new apartment complexes that now rent to up- scale Millennials. Quite a contrast isn’t it?”
On Monday, two beggars, a young man and a young woman walked up and down the path holding signs for everyone to read.
“Homeless. In need of money. Experiencing hard times.”
The beggars always get me uptight. They are there every day. It is a constant reminder of hos the haves and have nots live in the same world.
“Why doesn’t the mayor do something about this?” I asked the Blue Suit.
“What do you want him to do?” the Blue suit replied.
“If they were protesting his leadership he’d have the police remove them,” I said to the Blue Suit. “Just like he had the police take away that poor sod protesting public corruption in Everett while standing on a public sidewalk in front of city hall last week. That was a real nice touch,” I added.
“You’re right about that,” the Blue Suit replied. “That was not the mayor’s finest hour, was it?”
The Blue Suit squirmed around a bit uncomfortably as the young woman beggar leaned toward us and asked if we could help out.
I handed her a $5 dollar bill.
“Boy, the mayor wouldn’t never do that in a 1,000 years,” the Blue Suit exclaimed. “Charity isn’t part of his social make-up.”
Plain and simple, the beggars shouldn’t be allowed to beg at this gateway entrance into Everett. It gives the city a bad name. It doesn’t look right. Frankly, it isn’t right. It is a sign of the city’s unwillingness and inability to take care of those who cannot take care of themselves.
“The mayor should have his social services people take care of
these beggars – do whatever is necessary to get them temporary housing and to put a few bucks in their pockets. What would that take?” I asked. “How hard would that be to do?” I wondered.
The light changed to green. We sped off.
At the corner of Washington Avenue and the Parkway, I turned left.
We were on our way to the New Bridge Café.
No beggars in Chelsea, I was happy to see.
Inside the New Bridge everything was in good order.
A modest lunchtime crowd seemed to be enjoying themselves on a sea of rather plain tables and chairs inside a space more out of the 70’s than the 2020’s.
We ordered up.
The Blue Suit said he was really hungry. That’s always a bad sign – like when the mayor is hungry for food, for a payoff, for a jealousy fit or when wanting simply to be evil and unfair.
The Blue Suit ordered two plates of rare steak tips with French fries and salad.
I got the marinated chicken with salad.
Wow! What a treat.
We returned to Everett after lunch.
On our way back we talked about the coming primary on September 21.
“Does he bury everyone or does he get buried?” I asked the Blue Suit about Carlo’s chances.
The Blue Suit thought about this for a moment.
“I’ve always been sure about Carlo but I’m not sure this time. Adrien is a big question mark. Capone is a big question mark. How the Everett voters are feeling is a huge question mark. The mayor himself is a big question mark. Nothing is a guarantee this time around,” he said.
“Why not?” I asked.
“What makes this primary different from others before?”
The Blue Suit turned to me and said:
“The city is a different place. It is much different than it was four years ago. It is even very different from just two years ago. Many old folks have moved out. Many newcomers have moved in. Many more have died,” the Blue Suit said.
“The mayor has met with pushback going door to door. Some residents don’t want to talk with him, or to hear his false promises to them in return for their votes. I was with him when one homeowner came out and asked him to leave.”
“Where have you been for 14 years?” the resident asked angrily.
“The mayor scowled and then swore at the homeowner under his breath as he walked away,” added the Blue Suit.
“Scenes like that tell a story of possibilities to come, Josh,” the Blue Suit said.
“Sometimes the mayor can feel the end coming. Other times he’s the same old Carlo believing he will be the mayor forever, working the way he has campaigned all his political life and depending on that to get himself re-elected. I don’t know if this will work this time around.
“Nothing lasts forever, Josh. You can take that to the bank.”