The 9 Worst Things About Living in Massachusetts

Last month, the Boston Globe published what may have been its most out-of-touch elitism since, well, since the last time.

In his “farewell love letter to Boston,” someone named Omer Aziz, the author of Brown Boy: A Memoir, lamented leaving the city that he loves because of such things as its “spirit” and “soul” and “capacity for radical self-critique.”

Oddly, the Canadian-born Aziz forgot to mention that 1100 American citizens are fleeing the Commonwealth every week.

“My Boston is a bookstore late at night,” he swooned, “charming brownstone homes coming to life like fireflies as evening settles.”

If you are unfamiliar with Boston brownstones, they are the reason the average rent across the city is $3,970. Keyword: average.

And by the way, how many bookstores are left in the city? Not to mention, movie theaters.

“It is the feeling of expansiveness — of inspiration — I feel when I get off a train at South Station at dusk.”

The only inspiration I get from the same scenario is to avoid stepping over a homeless snoozer.

Aziz’s most absurd take: “In a world where so much is going wrong, there is much that Boston gets right.”

So much is going wrong in Boston. So much is going wrong in Massachusetts. The biggest obstacle for voluntary hostages left behind here, I believe, is that they don’t realize how bad they have it.

As someone who’s officially lived here for a year, moving into the clutches of the state like a salmon swimming upstream, I feel qualified to comment on the nine worst things about the Hub of the Universe.

#9 I’ve been smuggling in plastic bags since 2018.

 I refuse to pay a dime for a tissue-thin sack with handles bound to snap on the way up the front steps.

During the Panic, I recall “experts” telling us that reusable bags were less sanitary than plastic or paper options. Unfortunately, that did not stop Big Recycle from pushing its agenda on the lowly produce purchaser. A college student at the time, my main task over semester breaks was stashing as many CVS bags as I could in my suitcase to bring back to campus.

What are you supposed to line your bathroom rubbish or desk trash can with? What does the dog owner in a perfect state of environmental grace use to pick up doo-doo? For such functions, my experience has led me to witness Bay Staters purchasing a box of—wait for it—small, single-use plastic bags!

#8 Happy Hour is illegal.

This isn’t a joke about the surly nature of Bostonians, though I will touch upon that later. 

The concept of “happy hour” as it is meant to be—half-priced drinks—is completely foreign to Bay Staters. Bars and liquor stores have been barred from discounting alcoholic beverages since 1984. Thanks, former Gov. Michael Dukakis! Despite the state’s slobbering embrace of the marijuana industry, the imbiber has been left behind.

What’s worse, every few years the state legislature teases the public with a repeal of the ban. Of course, it never passes, but when you cannot afford $14 cocktails, you always fall for the hope-ium.

#7 Sure, Rome wasn’t built in a day. But Boston will never be finished.

I never hydroplaned until I moved to Massachusetts. The roads are built like soup bowls. The first time it rained during my residence here, I was swerving dangerously close to the permanently temporary construction guardrail on the Turnpike.

The neighborhood streets are constantly being cut up, then filled in haphazardly, then jackhammered again the following day. Your commute will see a different detour every week. The lanes seem narrower here—could it possibly have something to do with the proliferation of bike lanes? (More on them later.)

#6 Everyone is over-caffeinated and angry.

I knew the state had a caffeine problem when I attended a spin class and the instructor was taking swigs of black Dunkin iced coffee instead of water.

But other than liquid stimulants, I blame widespread the anger on Massachusetts’ motor vehicle excise (more like “excuse”) tax. Thought owning property was your right? Not here.

Each year Bay Staters get a letter from The Man at City Hall demanding they pay for the privilege of owning a car here. This bill comes after you paid for the car, after you paid to register the car, after you paid for a MA license, and after you paid for your (mandatory) auto insurance. 

Other than that, the rent is too damn high, traffic laws are a suggestion, and the sun sets at 4 PM for three months every year. No wonder everyone’s middle finger gets so much exercise.

#5 Everyone runs marathons for fun.

See #6 for possible reasons why.

#4 Even the “conservatives” are liberal.

When asked, “What policy or issue gets you out of bed in the morning?” a so-called conservative politician in this crummy Commonwealth responded, “Bike lanes.”

Of course I am against the proliferation of Leftism manifested through two wheels, a chain, and less room for me to drive my gas guzzler down Comm Ave. But how sorry is the state of conservatism when an elected official ignores the infiltration of radical gender ideology in elementary schools, the push for taxpayer-funded on-demand abortion, the discrimination against Catholics seeking adoption, the suburban invasion of illegal migrants, ad infinitum and instead put all rallying effort into the prevention of bike lanes?

Meanwhile, their kids are being spoon-fed Marxism at the nation’s “best public elementary schools,” and they’re left to explain to their toddler why the man at library storytime is donning a dress and a wig.

#3 There is a strange, unexplainable pride in the always late, always broken, always bursting-into-flames MBTA.

For reasons I have yet to figure out, the T’s abominable “rapid” transit lines seen to be the pride and joy of many Bay Staters.

Don’t they realize, the Kingston Trio’s “Charlie on the MTA” was a song, not an all-encompassing philosophy of life.

Maybe it’s because your job with the Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority means that not only are you set for life, but your children and your nephew and their children may finesse the coveted pension, too—that is, if you don’t fall asleep on the clock. It happens.

#2 There’s nowhere to park.

#1 All roads lead back to the RMV.

The Massachusetts Registry of Motor Vehicles has taken hours of my life I’ll never get back.

Between the glitchy online appointment system, the unavoidable lines out the door hours before opening, and the Quincy security guard who kindly suggests you head to the Watertown location instead, it’s a wonder anyone who’s had to register a vehicle or renew a license is still in favor of government-run healthcare.

As terrible as now-lame duck Boston City Councilor Kendra Lara is, can you blame her for not going to the RMV to get a driver’s license for 10 years?

After publishing Omer Aziz’s declaration of conceit, The Globe opened a comments section so those still reading the liberal rag may contribute to the delusion.

I wish to follow their lead.

As a short-timer here, I am sure I have missed an infinite number of things wrong with Massachusetts. I hope you, dear equally fed-up reader, may assist. What’s your biggest grumble about living in the People’s Republic of Massachusetts?