The Somervillian

Few Harvard students know the city to Cambridge’s northeast as anything other than a place of cheap housing and people with funny Boston accents. FM puhsuaded—sorry, persuaded—born-and-bred Somervillian Michael A. Capuano ’03-’04 to show us the city’s hidden side. In this exclusive driving tour, we answer all your burning Somerville questions: Which video stores have gotten run out of business by the cops? Where do high school kids go to drink? And which Dunkin’ Donuts rooftops are occupied by threatening homeless men?

Up close, Capuano (known to about everyone as Cappy) is short and powerful, and appears to be about 30 or 35 years old. His friendly greeting and firm handshake are that of a politician—unsurprising since his father is the former mayor of Somerville and currently serves as the representative of Somerville and Cambridge in the U.S. Congress. At 9:30 a.m. on Sunday, he’s energetic, dressed in a button-down collared shirt tucked into pressed khakis, and has already finished his work for the weekend in preparation for our Sunday trip to Somerville. He’s been up since 6 a.m.

Cappy’s narration of our trip revolves around three topics: Cappy’s personal Somerville history, Somerville political issues (he explains that in the last ten years the city has been getting “yuppified,” following a period in the late ’80s when many low-income families migrated from Cambridge) and liquor. The cab that takes Cappy into Somerville has only crossed a city line, but he has crossed into a world in which he has detailed knowledge of every storefront, house and street. The first thing we see is Massive Video, a rental store Cappy thinks is “cheesy” but noteworthy because the building used to house a different, sleazier video store which he says was actually run out of business by the cops for repeatedly overcharging customers.

Cappy grew up in a house not terribly different from those surrounding it, a medium-sized two-story on a quiet residential street. Stopping for a glass of juice in the kitchen, Cappy remembers to leave his 18-year-old brother a note telling him that he has taken the car. He thinks if it’s gone his brother might call the cops.“He comes home, the car’s missing, I would [call the police],” Cappy says, indicating that the gentrification of Somerville is perhaps not yet complete. He spots a bottle of Seagram’s whiskey on his desk and grabs it before we leave.

Cappy backs out of the driveway at breakneck speed and heads toward Somerville High School. On the way he reflects on what it was like to grow up as the mayor’s kid. “He was elected when I was ten years old,” Cappy says, claiming there weren’t any special perks or bonuses that came with the election. “It was just a job to him. The mayor is someone who makes give or take $72,000 a year. It’s not like we have a mayor’s residence.” Just minutes later, Cappy nonchalantly speeds into the mayor’s parking spot at City Hall (which is adjacent to the front of the high school). He insists that it’s not a perk. “I’m just doing this for show,” he says.

All we learn about the high school is that there are some alcohol-imbibing hotspots behind the building. “People used to drink behind the high school all the time. They still do,” he says.

Somerville is rife with Capuanos. On the way out of the high school Cappy points out Capt. Andrew Capuano Street, a roadway that bears the name of his grandfather, who served in both the Army and the Navy. Cappy says it was one of the first streets in Somerville to be named in someone’s honor. We soon drive by the house in which his father grew up. According to Cappy, all but two of the extended Capuano clan still live in the Commonwealth.

Making excellent time, no doubt due to Cappy’s NASCAR-like driving style, the tour passes though Davis Square on its way to a bowling venue called “The Alley,” located on a small side street where he used to drink in high school. We also pass a Dunkin’ Donuts, where Cappy and his friends used to clandestinely climb onto the roof for a little rooftop boozing. But the times, they are a-changin’: Cappy says the last time he tried to visit the roof he was chased away by a homeless man.

Alcohol location number four: Downtown Wine and Spirits. “Being the clean-cut, well-meaning individual that I am,” says Cappy, he used to stand across the street giving strangers money to buy “ridiculous amounts of alcohol” not only for him and his friends, but for the entire Somerville underage community. “We were taking orders.”

The next destination is Tufts University. “I don’t really like Tufts kids all that much,” Cappy remarks unexpectedly. “They don’t do a lot to help relations with the city.” Explaining one of the sources of this grievance, Cappy says he’s been thrown out of frat parties simply because he was a “townie.” “A lot of people here that I’ve met, they don’t like Somerville people,” Cappy says. Perhaps offering an inadvertent explanation, he recalls that he and his friends used to drive though the campus screaming “dickhead” and holding a sign out their car window that also said “dickhead.” Reminisces Cappy, “That was when I was young and stupid.”

Talk of Tufts shifted the conversation to Harvard-Tufts relations. Cappy disapproves of what he considers the prevailing attitude at Tufts. He’s still upset about the Tufts dean who disparaged Harvard in the press last semester.“They shit on places like Harvard, because they feel like they’re inferior, but they’re not. Tufts is a good school,” he says.

The conversation about Tufts ends when Cappy cruises by a Porsche Boxster and immediately throws his car into reverse and slams on the brakes to stare. He guesses that it’s from New York, since Tufts is filled with “all of Long Island,” but is surprised to discover it bears Massachusetts plates.

On the way to our final destination, Cappy points out the old hangout of James J. “Whitey” Bulger, the alleged former head of the notorious “Winter Hill Gang” organized crime group, who is on the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted list. Also along the way is Good Times Emporium, where Cappy used to go to shoot pool, and The World Gym, which Hulk Hogan once visited during Cappy’s childhood.

Eventually the tour arrives at the factory of M.S. Walker, Somerville’s very own vodka bottling company. Cappy has never actually been there before, but thought it was important to see while in Somerville, given how many Harvard students use its products every weekend (Walker is responsible for Gilbert’s, Cossack, S.S. Pierce, and a host of other cheap, cheap plastic handle favorites on campus). Upon arriving at Walker it appears that the gate is locked, but Cappy insists that we squeeze through the fence anyway to get a closer look (at the parking lot). “This is where the magic happens,” he says.

So our tour of Undiscovered Somerville ends. We have seen the back alleys, wino-occupied rooftops and vodka-factory parking lots that most Harvard undergrads will never encounter. The town may have recently started getting a little higher class, Cappy says, but “I’ve always loved it.”