Chip Stutton's Questionnaire

I live and work as a reporter in the great city of Boston, Massachusetts. I grew up here and I’m a New Englander through and through (except I never developed an accent for some reason). I love this city because of the people, the stories, and the opportunities. 

The people - they may be cold and harsh but each and every one of them is filled with heart and a deep drive to make their own way in life. 

The stories - in a metro of almost 5 million people, there is no end to the tales and stories that can be told. Each one of those 5 million people has a life just as full as you or I, and the interactions between those lives offer endless entertainment. 

The opportunities - in one of the most economically active regions of the country, anyone can make anything out of themselves. This means that a reporter like me can become anything I can imagine. 

My position as a reporter offers me a relatively meager salary, but it’s enough to get by and that’s all I really need. There are plenty of ultra wealthy folks here in Boston but I’m certain that an over abundance of cash would just make my life more complicated. 

No, I like my simple and uncomplicated life. I make some money, keep a roof over my head and food in in my stomach, and I enjoy my days. If you’re a real Bostonian, you don’t need a million bucks to be happy. You just need a deep disdain for New Yorkers and a tv where you can watch the Red Sox games. 

Growing up in busy Boston, Massachusetts, you really get the sense that everyone thinks their lives are more important than everyone else’s. And who knows maybe they are. But damn it’s gets tiring feeling like you can’t affect those around you, feeling like no one is listening. Especially when you have such important things to share and report on!

Well I’ve had just about enough of not being listened to. I know I have important things to say and I know that people want to listen. So I’ll find a way to make them listen!

I want people to hang onto my every word, I want people to pour over my news releases, and I want people to care about what I say. 

This is what drives me, and this is what I want from life. I don’t want to be an influencer, but I do want to influence people. And by god I’ll find a way *wink*. 

The most impactful moment of my life was during my commute downtown to my office. To get to work, I’ve got to catch some early buses and a taxi, and the early morning hours are when some of the weirdos ride the buses. 

A few months ago, this short guy gets on the bus and starts raving about how he’s a chicken and the sky is falling (chicken little reference). He’s going from person to person and invading their space, and when he gets to me he suddenly becomes lucid and pulls a knife on me.

i tried to tell him that I was just on the way to work and I couldn’t lose my laptop or phone, but he didn’t want to hear it and snatched them away anyways. He didn’t want to listen to me, and I caught shit about it at work. Dumb bastard, he couldn’t use the phone or laptop without the passwords anyway. Now I’m extra protective of my work things and I’m extra adamant about being listened to. 

First person in my life is my boss at the newspaper. Mr. John Crumb, executive editor and owner of The Daily Crumb. He’s a hard son of a bitch but he’s built a successful newspaper and he treats me well. I have some flexibility to report and investigate what I want, as long as I find his “crumbs.” I hate that he calls leads “crumbs” but he’s the boss and, honestly, it’s a bit clever. 

The second person who makes a large impact on my life is the bus driver that picks me up outside my apartment every day. I haven’t learned his name, I just call him Mr. Bus Driver. Now that I say that, I feel like a real asshole. He’s a kind and funny guy. No matter how early it is and no matter how stressed out I am, he offers a smile and a joke on my way to work. 

The last impactful person in my life is my neighbor across the hall, an old woman I call Ms. Sheila. She’s one of the most patient and sweet people in this city, and she gives me fresh baked cookies and brownies whenever she sees me get home in a bad mood. She’s great to talk to, and she has endless stories. I’m grateful to have her across the hall, she’s a saint in a city of (mostly) assholes 

My childhood just outside the city was pretty typical. I lived in a typical house with typical parents, and I attended typical public schools. 

I got typical grades and had a typical experience. I fit in and I made friends. I had a girlfriend for awhile and we were happy. Everything was looking up for me in high school, I had no reason to complain! But something just didn’t feel quite right.

With groups of friends, we always ended up doing what other people wanted to do. With my girlfriend, we went on dates to places she wanted to go - why do I give a shit about equestrian performances? And even my parents made me play the sports and join the clubs THEY wanted. It just felt like everyone else was determining my life.

This is my life, and I have important thoughts and opinions and someone is gonna have to listen. 

I’ve been in what I thought was love. My high school girlfriend, we were together for three years and we thought we had it all figured out. We were gonna go to the same college, get the same major, and live happily ever after in a subdivision outside Boston.

Of course, high school first loves rarely work out. Ours was no exception. We got accepted into different colleges and despite our best efforts, our passion faded and we had to call it quits a few months into our first semesters.

It’s been a long time now, and even though I’m well past my feelings for her, I sometimes wonder where she ended up. Is she in Boston, did she move away, or is she even still alive?