My Town Is Dying

My town is dying. It looks alive, but I can feel it, as if its spirit is drowsy, blurry, and apathetic. My town puts on more makeup and visits the plastic surgeon, but beneath the surface the bones are cracking.

The big houses are standing empty, and all of the big plans for eco friendly green show neighborhoods where everyone lives a sterile and clean life of health, vanity, micro fleece, shiny biking costumes with butt pads and Birkenstocks and beany caps are empty fields on the edge of town. A big scam. Someone sold the idea and got paid for it.

Hundreds of people were made to move from a very nice, green trailer court with mature pines and willows and large lots and good families. Now it's a haven for transients and needle pushers. Many of the mobile homes still remain with their doors and windows hanging loose, the stairs tilting off to the side, the grass tall. And next door is a neighborhood of palaces with moats and giant windows. They probably believed that they would soon be next door to one of the trendiest neighborhoods in the nation with shops, nature trails, and the old flour refinery turned into a microbrewery.

But no. The refinery is still a middle of the night haunt for kids with cans of spray paint and a knowledge of satanic symbolism. It still smells of skunks and the owls still fly out in the dark night. It's still as spooky and dark as when I was a kid.

I knew the eco dreams were false. How could forcing hundreds of people to leave a nice affordable and quiet trailer park work? I knew it was a scam because it was all about vanity and impressing the nation with a first of its kind facade. Really, do people live above their businesses anymore and hang tomatoes out to prove they're sustainable? People want that early 1900's dream, but without the reality and nitty gritty that goes with it. The real living was in the trailer court, but those people didn't matter. And I was right. Rather than making life; these fake, greedy, vain, and self-righteous people created a black hole -- death.

And others are complaining about the old brewery building with its chain link fence around it to protect from falling brick. Half the building is demolished. I used to spend quite a bit of time in that building, as several businesses I had contact with were located there. The neighborhood is upset that the building sits there rotting, neither being torn down or restored. They wish the city would force the owners to follow through with their plans of a big restaurant and new brewery. Hmm. Who would the customers be if it was finished? My town is dying, and a dead entity doesn't go out to sip foamy beers or eat fresh ravioli.

Main Street looks nice with its boutiques and hanging flower baskets. But it has a big hole blown in it where a gas explosion took out part of a block. The owner of one of the bars, now a black hole, was a prime supporter of the smoking ban. At the time he was taking his bar from a famous dive that was so packed patrons stood shoulder to shoulder; changing it into one of those granite-tiled artsy-fartsy places where the doctors and boring people go. He knew his new and trendy bar would not be able to compete any longer if it was the only non-smoking bar on the street. And it didn't. No one went after the remodel and the shiny granite bar with napkins was installed. He destroyed a landmark.

The same bar owner wanted the town to put up millions to build his kid a hockey rink too. This same bar owner has another bar across town where the older and wealthier gather to swing. It looks clean and "safe," but it's not. It's the only bar in town where I've seen a paid cameraman on a regular basis filming the girls. It's the only bar in town with wet t-shirt contests, foam baths, bikini contests with the bikinis supplied by the bar. Meanwhile that cameraman is rolling, and so is every football player's camera phone.

Has anyone ever asked if the bar owner is selling the images of those girls? And it's the only bar in town where it's common for married people to get with married people as if it's nothing. But it's clean and decent and serves pink drinks. All of this goes on below the surface and one has to watch very closely, but if one knows what to look for it's the most immoral place in town. I knew my town was dying when this became a popular location. A few years ago, people had to keep it secret that they went to a phony place. Now, that bar owner, a good upstanding citizen, wants the city to "loan" him money to rebuild his black hole on Main Street. He'll never pay it back.

My town is dying. It has a big new parking garage with business space attached. It was built with Hurricane Katrina relief money although we're nowhere near hurricane country. But it's empty and quiet.

My town is dying. The frat house, a former resident's mansion sits on an entire city block, looking pretty and wasting money since the city bought and refurbished it with tax payer money, rather than selling it to a law firm that would have made it into a property that benefited the community by paying taxes. This historic mansion eats up federal tax dollars. Somehow it managed to get tens of thousands of that Economic Stimulus money for an energy-saving remodel, which will save the taxpayer's on energy costs. Wouldn't it have saved the tax payers to have let a private business own and maintain it? How does it save money to spend taxpayer money? The government is the only entity that can say it's saving money by spending other people's money. When the rest of us spend other people's money we're called trust funders, irresponsible, greedy, and wasteful.

My town is dying. Last October the smoking ban went into effect. Now, on a Friday night the doors of the formerly crowded and bustling bars stand open and silently sad. The pool tables have sticks laying across them rather than in the hands of patrons. It used to be that one had to lay their quarters down and fight for a pool table. No longer. It use to be that one had to jostle and muscle their way to the front of the bar for a drink. It use to be loud and boisterous by 11 o'clock when the drinks began sinking in and the work week wore off. No longer. Now, there is a silent and wary group of tobacco smokers lurking outside the doors, wondering if they should even bother going back in.

Now, the bars are trying to lure people back in for a good time with live bands. But it's still dead most nights, with only a handful of people searching for other people. I use to think it was the music that drew the people, but now, I wonder if the music is the people. Without people there is no music, no laughing, no drunkenness, no joy, no sin, no money. Who do you play for when there is no audience or when the audience keeps walking out for a cigarette in the middle of the song?

My town is dying and people are looking for life. The people think they're going out for drinks and music, but really they are going out to be with others. Now, when a big band comes to town it sells out because everyone knows that everyone else will also be there. Now, the few people out all gather at one location, leaving every other establishment nearly empty. It didn't use to be this way, before the smoking ban. Even when a large event was occurring somewhere else, the crowd was evenly and generously distributed amongst the bars. People knew that even if they didn't go to the big show, they'd still have a good time in a large crowd somewhere else. In fact, it was even nice because certain crowds of people would clear out for the show, leaving an opportunity to meet an entirely new set of people.

I live in a college town famous for selling more beer than any other town west of the Mississippi. I wonder how that statistic is faring these days? Do dead people drink? My state lost about $40 million in tax revenues the first two months of the smoking ban. But of, course, it's saving lives to have a pharmaceutical Nicorette (sucks) monopoly. How is it that when the government says it's saving lives and money it's actually destroying lives and ability to make money? Is that how the rest of us save money, by finding ways of preventing our businesses from having customers and by preventing customers from patronizing favorite business. What an excellent way to cut costs -- get rid of customers and steady revenue. How novel. It's like Nazi eugenics applied to the economy. They saved a lot of money getting rid of millions of business owners and customers. They killed them. My town is dying.

The police force is doubled and the new Taj MaJail is nearly finished. Who will they lock up if the tobacco smokers aren't out drinking? Who will they lock up if no one has money to leave their homes? Someone has to pay the gigantic bill, and this town doesn't have enough crime to foot the bill. They will have to make criminals out of the tax payers and property owners one way or another. Maybe, all red cars will be targeted, or redheads, or people wearing red... Thank goodness, the legislature thought ahead last session and banned those red light cameras. My town had them everywhere and could hardly wait to start fining those sliding across the line on winter roads, or making right hand turns. They're still there, but illegal and can't be used until a special interest pays someone off to repeal the anti-red light camera law.

My town is dying. I can hear it. It's a silent sound and no one wants to hear it. The talk is how our local economy is impervious and strong. Whatever. How can one single town stand alone? It's like saying someone's hand is strong while the rest of the body is dying. Will the hand live without the body? A body can live without the hand, but not vice versa. My town is not the body. It is arrogant and blind. It is Californicated and a pretty little whore. It used to be a rather natural kind of girl with stray hair, cut-off shorts, a fun smile, and old cars; but somewhere she got the idea that guys like ultra-plucked eyebrows, big shiny dangles, and four-inch heels and a snotty attitude. It's not the free and easy place it was only a few years ago. My town is uptight and vain. It's dying and soon won't have a night spot to go to and be seen in. Nor will it have a day spot.

My town is dying. A town is the people. Why are the people so lethargic and unable to exercise their simple constitutional rights? Why are the parts of the body attacking, banning, and regulating the other parts? Isn't each part essential? Are we like a 90 year old body, slowly shutting down? Are we too old? My town is dying.

But somewhere in the night, in the corners are others like me, seeking out the flames, the lit matches, lighters, the spark of life and the scent of a familiar aroma--the sweet smell of recognition. Somewhere others seek communion with like-minded souls, and we will know each other when we meet as long lost family members. The reunion will bring joy and we will take each other's hand and rise above the old and dead parts, although mournful of a time and place now only a memory. My town may be dying, but I am not.

image: Rembrandt, Blinding of Samson