Small town America

Ok, I admit it. I made a choice to stop here for a while and stay here for a while and I got what I paid for. I grew up here on a little street off the main drag. It was a simple life, surrounded by woods, an old railroad track bed, a creek and plenty of other kids up and down the street. I was the big clumsy kid that stank at sports, was fair at school and had one ambition, to split from here as fast and far from here as I could. It took a couple of attempts but finally with the help of the US Navy I made a clean break.

I would come home for leave when my folks were still alive, would do things around the house for them and not really venture out very much. The town had changed and not just in my eyes. Industry had died, the railroad had pulled out, the economy was in the crapper. I had to travel to the next town for a meal or a movie and to another town for a beer with people from all over the area. This town just didn't have much of a draw nor did it invoke any inspiration to stay and enjoy anything.

Now I look around and see some pretty angry people, living meager lives and staying around for something. The biggest industry in town is the casino. Haven't been there, don't plan to go. I could get the same results by giving away $20 to some random stranger and it would take less time doing it. This does not describe all the folks here, but it sure includes a lot of them. The angry people don't care about their neighbors, go out of their ways to do crappy things, greet pleasantries with scowls and grunts and in one case curse me out for politely asking one old geezer to move his car out of my driveway. Oh he was parked there scratching off his lottery tickets and could give a crap about where he was or who he was affecting. Well my response through gritted teeth was not so polite and I regretted it because he was a geezer but sheesh.

I know that this is not my first unpleasant day here nor will it probably be my last but come on people.

There are some great folk here though. My boss, My brother and his family, my landlord and the owner of my favorite restaurant, The guy who made the threshold for the back door of the museum, Angie at the post office, some old friends from school, and the hot female bartender with the fantastic posterior. There are more I am sure but, they are somewhere behind the conspiracy theorist, crabby old guys, the jerk who parked behind me on purpose and the endless number of welfare breeders who clog the line at the supermarket trying to get the foodstamp card to work.

Well at least there is an ample supply of hardwoods and it's kinda scenic.