THE BLUE SUIT
Conversations between the mayor’s Blue Suit and Josh Resnek.
The Blue Suit and I met as usual Tuesday afternoon in Everett – this time – at an undisclosed location.
The location will remain undisclosed because both the Blue Suit and I felt that we were being watched.
This tends to be no big deal, as we have been watched here by a variety of people over the years.
Yesterday, however, the Blue Suit was complaining that he is tired of everything having to do with politics.
What a surprise – the Blue Suit tired of politics! I thought for sure he was kidding around.
“Who would be following us?” I asked the Blue Suit.
“The Everett police? Detectives? FBI? CIA? DEA? NSA? North Koreans? Iranians? Who would be following us?” I asked the Blue Suit.
“You never know, Josh,” he replied.
“People far less prominent than we are get followed,” he added. I thought about that for a moment.
“What the hell could anyone find out about us following us – where we eat? What we eat? What streets we drive down? I mean, its ridiculous. Anyone following us for whatever reason needs to have their head examined,” I said.
“Roger that, Josh,” the Blue Suit said.
No sooner had the Blue Suit said that, we ran into Joe McGonagle.
“Guys. I’d like to talk but I’m busy right now. Very busy,” Joe told us.
“What are you busy with?” I asked.
Joe replied.
“That’s just like you Josh to ask such a question. If you really want to know, I’m busy dreaming up attack material to be used against Mike Marchese.”
“That should be enervating,” I said to Joe.
Joe replied.
“What does enervating mean. Is it a medical term?” he asked. “You got a minute, Joe? I need to ask you a question,” I asked him.
“Well, Josh. You know how busy I am with legislative work on Beacon Hill. There is so much work to do up there, so many issues. So many important bills that mean so much to Everett,” he said.
“Yeah. I’ve been reading your political literature. You’ve sure signed a lot of bills…but have you presented one yourself? If you have what was it, and if you can’t remember, don’t worry about it. Nothing matters, Joe. What you do or don’t do on Beacon Hill doesn’t matter. What matters, and you know this better than anyone, is getting paid. That electronic transfer into your account every two weeks is a sweet, sweet, sweet thing, isn’t it, Joe.”
“You want me to work for nothing?” Joe asked me.
“You should get only what you are worth, Joe. What do you think that would be if your efforts were really weighed and mea- sured by Anthony DiPierro, someone we all know we can trust.”
Joe coughed. Then he laughed.
“Yeah, Anthony is a great, great Everett kid. What a shame he had to resign in disgrace at such a young age. What most people don’t know about Anthony is what a great sign placer he is. He really knows how to put up a political sign. And that’s amazing considering he isn’t very tall.”
Josh, get on with it. What do you want from me. I don’t have all day to listen to your questions. I’m very busy with important legislative work,” he said to me.
“Important legislative work in Everett?” I asked. ‘Right now?” I asked.
“Yes, Josh. In Everett. Right now.”
“Alright. I’ll make it as brief and easy to follow as possible.” “That boat yard you take credit for on the Malden River, that took some real savvy legislative talent, didn’t it?” I asked Joe. “Aw, Josh. So nice of you to understand. Yeah. It took major talent. I’m a major talent. That’s how we got a boat yard,” he said to me.
“Is it for Everett school kids to reduce the overcrowding in the public schools?” I asked Joe.
He thought for a moment.
“I suppose it could be used as a school, or maybe a classroom. But it could only hold five kids,” he estimated.
“Hey, Josh. That’s pretty hip thinking. That’s a great idea.”
“Could it be used for affordable housing?” I asked Joe.
“Geez, Josh. That’s another great idea. I’d love to bring you up to Beacon Hill so you could get these ideas of yours in front of the really important people I hang around with.”
“Using that boat house as affordable housing is like killing two birds with one stone. In the summer months, the residents could bath in the river and save on water,” Joe added.
“Could the boat house be used as a anti-racism center? And could we have Anthony head up the anti-racist programming that he promised to take after he resigned?”
Joe thought about that for a minute.
“I haven’t seen Anthony in weeks, Josh,” he said to me.
“Didn’t I see you two together just yesterday?” I asked him. “Or was that someone wearing an Anthony DiPierro Halloween costume?”
Joe said the person he was talking with yesterday that I saw looked like Anthony, spoke like Anthony and wore the same costumes that Anthony likes to wear on Halloween.
“But it wasn’t Anthony. You got it wrong, Josh,” Joe said to me.
“I’m sorry, Joe. I’m not trying to get you uptight,” I added.
“Let’s finish this up. Let me ask you – is Anthony supporting your candidacy?”
“you’d have to ask Anthony,” Joe answered.
“He’s not taking my calls,” I answered.
Joe broke out in laughter.
“Why not, Josh. Why doesn’t Anthony want to speak with you?” he asked me.
“I don’t know. He’s such a great kid. He’s got a great political career ahead of him here,” I added.
“You know he’s running for council next time around,” I continued.
“I heard something like that but he hasn’t confided in me,” Joe insisted.
“Will you be with him?” I asked.
“Of course I will. The kid knows how to put up political signs.”