It came to mind this morning while taking a shower that the dynamics and politics of a small town or maybe just the one where I happen to live presently, are much like a bar brawl. While I have never been a witness to such activity, I have like most of us seen a good staged one in movies and television shows.
Those scenes where someone gets angry over a very little matter which escalates into a very big issue and then involves others thus mushrooming into a huge ordeal. And so it is with the dynamics of a small town or again this one. This year once again those who think they own the town and the rest of us are just their pawns, placed very tacky old tattered wooden gingerbread men at each light pole. No one wanted these particularly the merchants whose business are affected the most by the shabby additions.
To complain places one on the list and then escalates into the controlling group not speaking to you which in many ways is a blessing. To remove one of these is as if one had tried to remove a prized possession worth millions. It is this with anything one does without those who think they rule. Yet they won’t return calls, they won’t answer emails and they definitely don’t want anyone but their group to do anything to improve the town.
In actuality they can not think beyond the box they have lived in their entire lives. The town has potential. All those who moved here feel that yet those who control grew up here, returned and think they are back in high school leading the band. Yet the town is off note and totally out of tune. There is that brawl that brews. That anger. That turning every one against anyone who may have a great idea or who may do something to improve the town.
It is very dysfunctional behavior and affects one like a huge bruise after the fight.
So I dream of being away from such activity. Such brawls…such anger. And maybe I will make it out of here soon never having to see a tattered ugly gingerbread man again.