Mayor Menino, meet your Matrix

9 March 2001

In an odd speech last week sponsored by the Boston Municipal Research Bureau, Mayor Thomas Menino spoke about turning the Jamaicaway and the bridges going over the Charles River into one-way roads at rush hour (turns out that no one from Boston would ever dream of going to Cambridge) and said that Boston should control what happens to the surface of the Big Dig because "it's in Boston." (Funny, that rationale didn't stop the rest of the state from being forced to help pay it).

But the strangest moment occurred when he reportedly lashed out at the "same seven folks saying negative things about what's going on in the city."

Who, everyone wondered, are those people? But Menino wasn't saying.

At first the thinking was that Menino's comments were directed at the business leaders. But on reflection, that seems doubtful. With the possible exception of Frank McCourt, who battled with Menino over Fan Pier, business leaders have been lavish in their praise of Menino.

They have to be. They've learned the hard way. Cross the mayor, and the next project they propose will be subjected to that never- ending nightmare known as "community process."

How about city councilors? Certainly that's a bunch that's gotten surlier over the years. But I checked. No councilor admits to being a naysayer.

Councilor Brian Honan? "Not me."

Councilors Steve Murphy, Michael Ross and Michael Flaherty deny it too.

Councilor Dan Conley, in a judiciously qualified response, says, "To the best of my knowledge, I am not." Councilor Maura Hennigan: "I try to be constructive." But a naysayer? No.

And for good reason. Being a naysayer means your streets don't get plowed.

Community activists? If there's any community activist who has been vocal, it's landscape architect Shirley Kressel. But no. In fact, the whole idea of trying to track down the naysayers offends her. "These are simply engaged citizens," says Kressel.

Which brings to mind this thought: Could it be that those "seven folks" are not naysayers at all, but simply those who happen to disagree with the mayor?

Perhaps, but that still leaves me scratching my head. Remember the firefighters who set up picket lines around Menino's State of the City speech? Sure looked like a lot more than seven to me.

And how about the crowds who gathered in the Fenway to denounce a new stadium? Or those who turned out en masse in South Boston to protest the mayor abrogating his community benefits agreement with the neighborhood? Reports put attendance in the hundreds.

Turns out it was only seven.

And you wonder why Boston schools have such a tough time with the MCAS.

Indeed, the big news out of Menino's speech is that, contrary to popular belief, only seven people in Boston disagree with him.

This is bad news for Councilor Peggy Davis-Mullen. Seven votes are hardly enough to make for a real mayoral campaign.

But it's good news for the rest of us. All along the media have been reporting that there was a lot of dissension. Turns out that's wrong. We all agree on everything.

That is, except for seven individuals who are apparently ruining it for the rest of us.

Still, I have to wonder. Those mysterious seven seem to be everywhere. How do they do it?

My best guess is that Boston is a lot like the city portrayed in "The Matrix." In that film, there were only three bad guys - they were called "agents" - but they had the ability to inhabit anyone's body at will. They could move so quickly from person to person that at times it seemed like poor Keanu Reeves had an entire crowd chasing after him.

That must be it. So when the Boston Teachers Union marched on City Hall last fall, it wasn't them marching at all. It was the naysayers, inhabiting their bodies. And when more than nine councilors overrode Menino's brownfields veto and his Mattapan high school veto, they didn't really mean it. It was the naysayers.

And just in case there is any doubt: In the course of asking around for this column, a number of people suggested that I, in fact, might be a naysayer. For the record, I am not. I agree with him on everything. And if there have been those rare occasions when it has seemed that I did not, it wasn't me. A naysayer made me do it.

And having cleared that up, Mr. Mayor, I have a small request: There's this pothole in front of my house . . .