Allston’s Favorite Drunk
Just reading your “Dear Y.P.R.” section and came across the letter from Alexis Tirado, titled “Seen and Heard in Boston.” She shows a photo in a deli window and then posts several photos of an “odd pied piper of sorts.” That odd pied piper is none other than Mr. Butch, Allston’s favorite drunk. Before his fluting days, he would carry around a large suitcase with the words “The Mr. Butch Show” printed on the side. Only it wasn’t much of a show, he would sit on the sidewalk next to the open suitcase and strum his guitar arrhythmically. Sometimes he would run into the street without warning and bang on the windows of cars driving by, screaming “NO-GOOD DIRTY RUSSIANS!”
During the summer, I would ride by him on my bike in the morning and he’d be sitting on the street corner, drinking a Bud. Oftentimes he'd be wearing an American-flag tie, sometimes three or four at the same time. Once I saw him yelling into a stapler as if it was a cell phone, “Can you hear me? Hello? Are you there? Hello?”
I moved out of Allston recently, and seeing Mr. Butch brought back some fond memories. Thanks, Alexis and Y.P.R.