This is the town that made me. Kind of.
Come visit right now. You're the only one(s) I have to share this with. I have friends here–well one with some budding possibilities–but for various reasons they don't fulfill this role of share-dom at the moment. Mostly because I'm not sure if they're constantly suffering from the wonderment I feel as I walk around town. I have picked out some houses we should walk past so you can help me decide what it would be like to live there, who lives there now, who built a house like that, who chose that color. Most houses here are neutrals, but here and there are sherbert-like neon homes. Who can blame them, winters are long, people are reserved. I remember now how I've always wanted to shake this town up. Come visit and you can be part of my guerilla (or gorilla) poetry movement. Or whatever else I come up with. Do you have an idea? Hurry, get here, let's be star people.
I went to the thrift store again today. And again the girl at the cash register looked familiar, I must have gone to high school with her. I hesitate saying hello to people I [think I] know because a couple of Christmases ago I recognized a girl in the grocery store. She saw me but showed no sign of recognition. "Hello!" I said, "I'm Marge, remember me?"
"Yeah, I do."
And more frequently people don't recognize me. My piano teacher of 11 years looked confused and a bit upset when I saw her and rushed to say hello, same with several other people at that wedding. It's always a toss up, do they really not know who I am or do they hope never to see me again? What would be the case for the girl at the thrift store? I said hello and re-introduced myself (six+ years and all).........and I couldn't tell.
Well, what have I got to lose? This town could use some shaking. Ask me some time and I'll remove the gloss and reveal the seedy underbelly of small towns in remote areas before I restore their glory again.
P.S. GET HERE NOW!!!!!
P.P.S We'll go to high school football games, they're just across the street. Or the water treatment plant? Just a short walk. The shortest walk ever....I might still know the music therapist at the senior citizens' center, we could sing about the yellow ribbon round the old oak tree....