Originally published at: This Massachusetts news report is so perfectly, painfully Massachusetts | Boing Boing
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That’s a wicked sad story.
It is a sad tale, well told.
Sounds like all my Springfield area relatives!
Matt, Matt, take hold of the reins on that steed. That’s what they’re there for. We don’t need another market tragedy.
Eh, the one on Boston Rd is bettah anyway.
and why is this supposedly “painful?”
They missed a shot of the trademark sawdust on the floor.
TIL how to pronounce “Billerica”
If they closed my Market Basket I would be devastated.
FWIW.
You rarely hear anyone say “wicked” anymore, and I’ve never heard a local say “pissah”, except as a joke. Seems like you’re more likely to hear the accent outside the city than IN Boston, which is way more cosmopolitan that you’d think, thanks to all the colleges, research hospitals and tech firms.
Market Basket is an amazing story. The fact that the managers, workers, customers, and suppliers went on strike a few years ago to reinstate the CEO who was ousted by the board is ground-breaking. The CEO who was returned to power is someone who can be characterized as a trustee in Gandhian or nonviolent economics, an owner who acts as a trustee of the business for the workers, customers, suppliers, and community.
The fact that this unique strike has fallen down the memory hole is also striking. My notes on a book about this strike: Hubevents Notes: We Are Market Basket There are also at least two documentaries about it.
As Market Basket also usually owns the land for its stores which made it so valuable, one of the reasons why the previous board ousted the CEO, it was a little surprising to hear that they leased the land for this particular Market Basket on Boston Road.
A great store which has earned the love of its customers.
Because I live here and I’m still laughing so hard it hurts
The bass player for my high school band (circa 1985) used “wicked pissah” all the time, unironically. I was a recent transplant and thought it was weird.
Didn’t give it a second thought after graduation until about five years ago when I heard the word “wicked” coming out of my own mouth. It felt natural and horrifying at the same time.
A friend of mine, who had recently moved to East Boston from Buffalo, invited a coworker over for dinner. After dinner, he asked her how it was and she said "“wicked pissah”, and he wasn’t sure how to feel.
I work near by, here’s a comment from a co-worker:
It’s also difficult to use Dunkin’ as a reference when giving directions
TAH pits.
Every shot is perfect, up until the very end.
Don’t lie. We all secretly wish to do that.