“Quincy: Taking Pride in the Little Things” by Mystery Blogger

16 Dec

I love checking my email and finding more in it than junk mail and notifications from Twitter. Today I found this piece on Quincy written by a mystery blogger that I want to share. If you ever have some ideas you want to share, feel free to drop me a line at and I’ll check it out and will almost always post it (unless you don’t know the difference between “they’re”, “their”, and “there”. I refuse to edit something for a site I run for free.). Enjoy!

Quincy. Where we take pride in the little things.
            Quincy is called the city of Presidents because John Quincy Adams and John Adams were born here. We take so much pride in this fact that when they died, instead of sending the bodies to Washington D.C. for a presidential burial, we as “Quincy-ites” decided that stuffing the bodies in the basement of a Quincy Center building would be just as, if not more respectable…I mean it’s Quincy after all.

            We take pride in the fact that the first Dunkin Donuts was founded here in Quincy. In our deranged minds, and due to the transitive property we feel as though since America runs on Dunkin and Dunkin was conceived here in Quincy, than therefore America could not run without Quincy. Quincy had the first Dunkies, but I feel pretty safe in assuming that either Milton or Weymouth were the first ones to start charging for the hot cup, I mean come on it’s a little bit of Styrofoam, get over it.
            We’re proud of Wollaston Beach, where even the deadliest of sea predators cannot survive, I’m sure we all remember when that shark washed ashore dead a few years back. It may not be the best of beaches, but at least its there for us to use. Hang out at the beach, drink at the beach but please whatever you do don’t swim at the beach. As your blogger extraordinaire points out, we have two of every fast food place, even more astonishing is that we’ve go two clam oriented joints on the beach as well. Are you for Tony’s or the Clam Box? However, there is no place in our city for two KFC’s or Taco Bells, those places only get to share one building because there doesn’t need to be more than one place for your drunkest of friends to demand to get tacos and a famous bowl all at the same time, despicable (although I am guilty of it myself).
            We are so proud of our independence that we cannot wait until July 4th to celebrate it, nope we all need it a day early. So everyone piles down to Houghs Nek on July 3rd where there’s only one road in and one road out. We all hear about the drunk driving checkpoint, but who cares we go anyways.
            Proud to be home of the Quincy Quarries, which was actually the first comerical railway in America. It carried granite from the Quarry to the site where the bunker hill monument was being built. Nowadays it’s the home of cliff-jumpers, rock-climbers, underage drinkers and Hollywood execs who use it to shoot movies such as ‘Gone Baby Gone.”  So feel free to jump in the water, but don’t swim too long. Have fun getting drunk by a fire, and who hasn’t gotten a little action in those woods at some time.
            We’re proud of what we have, although it may not be that much. We’re not the richest of people by any stretch of the imagination, but we make due with what we have and have fun. Never have you seen such a collection of hoopdies, mini-vans, moms cars and multi colored shitboxes clanking down the street. But when we pull up beside you at a light and you see us smiling, and hear the plastic on our windows crackling from the bass in our trunk you know were having fun.
            We’re proud to be drunks, and even prouder at the fact that we have a vast multitude of packy stores to get booze from. From The Reagle Beagle, Atlas Liguors, Supreme Panty to even Franklin Packy which delivers. But please, don’t try and get it delivered when you’re underage, they will check ID’s when they come…didn’t think that far ahead huh?
            However, I’m not too sure if pride comes to mind when I think about our four red line stops on the train. Nothing says welcome to Quincy like getting mugged before you get on the train in Wollaston and then beat up when you get off in North Quincy because someone took all your money a few minutes ago.
            And one last thing, say Quincy the correct way. Just like Worcester and Peabody, you need the correct pronunciation…it’s Quinzee not Quinsy.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: