Pop A Wheelie
Headed down Huntington Avenue toward the Pike on a quiet, sunny, no-traffic Tuesday, I thought it was gonna be a breeze getting out of Boston. Then out of nowhere I heard a thundering roar. I thought an Air Force F-15 landed on the street behind me. Nope. It was the city's notorious dirt bikers. At least 50 of them.
Holy Christ, I thought, I’m a dead man. No Boston P.D. in sight. I nervously flashed the peace sign at the leader of the pack. I’m cool, bro. And whoa Jackson, the kid flashed it back! Then they swarmed me. In front, behind and on both sides of the car. I was surrounded. They stuck with me all the way to the Pike. I flashed ‘em the high sign and was on my way to San Jose.
I gotta say, stuck in the middle of that motorcade, I felt like the prez getting an escort out of town. But no question these kids are raising hell in Boston, especially at Franklin Park. At 527 acres, it’s Boston’s biggest park. It’s also the site of the Franklin Park Zoo. The chimpanzees are not fond of these bikers.
Now it’s true that the park belongs to everyone: runners, walkers, birdwatchers and now dirt bikers. It’s also true that the bikers are loud, playing music and partying until dawn. It’s out of control. But if you talk to these kids, they’re not looking to create a scene. They’re looking for a place of their own. All they want to do is ride. They’re not selling drugs, getting in fights or shooting each other. They’re not a gang. The biker community is an alternative to that.
It's like skateboarders. They say if cities don’t build skateparks, the whole city becomes a skatepark. So now the police and politicians are constantly getting calls to do something about the bikers. Then the cops show up and whack kids on the head with batons. Yeah, that works.
You know what no one has thought of doing yet? Get ‘em to the table and work out a plan. Give ‘em a space of their own to ride, have some fun and stay out of trouble. These are inner city kids. They're not going to Chatham or Kennebunkport this summer. Franklin Park is their getaway.
But you know how it is today. Nobody can talk to anybody anymore. You’re on one side and I’m on the other. I’m right and you’re wrong and nothing changes or gets better because nobody gives an inch. It’s toxic, it’s nasty and it’s getting worse. I say, get everybody together and start talkin’. Dial ‘em in, don’t kick ‘em out. That’s the way we used to do things. Keep your dukes up.