Wednesday, October 21, 2009

"Hope sustains the farmer"

For as much as I am willing to dismiss neighbors who noisily and odiferously do not share my predilection for manners, wardrobe, or hygiene, you can't blame me for loving them and their quaint and disconcerting idiosyncrasies. My fellow townspeople -- the ones who make it to Town Meeting, anyway -- are relentlessly reasonable and have a demonstrable record of good.
I mean, if one only attended the mad ravings of the three or four ingrate traitors who phone the local broadcast group therapy session for Bush-era pushovers called WBSM, one would think that children and schools and libraries and teachers would be gone by now, buried under the abominable detritus of intimidated red-baiting conspiracy theorists. But for all of that misanthropic bluster and anonymous egoism, the actual engaged citizenry will still champion the polity and do the right thing for their homies' sake.
Town Meeting proved once again that when voters distinguish a familiar name with the felt-tip marker on Election Day, the designated individual takes the position seriously enough to show up on a night when the Celtics are playing the Knicks. And then go ahead and approve everything, pre-emptively thumbing the collective local nose at forecast State aid cuts. Saving it, spending it, and buying American-made. (Now, if Ray could have added "union-manufactured" to that flag article...) Mary Pickford and a kitten. Yesterday's 'Sherilynn Fenn wrapped in a flag' for the AM radio set.

(This presentation features a picture of Mary Pickford. And a kitten.)

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