Sixty miles west of Boston, Massachusetts there is the small New England town of Sturbridge. Located at the junction of I-90 (The Mass Pike), and I-84 it has become known as the "Crossroads of New England". The town was first settled over 300 years ago, and like other small New England towns it has grown just enough over the years to be in a difficult place today. How do we embrace the future without forgetting how we got to our present? How do we attract the right kind of growth, and maintain who we are? And, what about our culture out here in Central Massachusetts?
These pages will cause one to think about how to protect what we have, our future direction, and how to move on in the very best way.
Those thoughts, and other ramblings, will hopefully inspire more thought, conversation, action, and occasionally a smile...
...seems to be working so far
Monday, March 16, 2009
More Equal Time
My name is Ephis Fleek, and I'm a farmer in these parts. I'm also announcing that I want to be a selectman.
Now, I don't know much about selecting, but I have the cable and I watch the meetings on the TV.
Seems there are somethings here in town that are always raisin' a ruckus, and it takes time away from things that need tendin' to. Well, life is simpler if you plow around the stump. Folks get their shorts in a gather if they come up against some fences. Heck, every path is gonna have a few puddles. Just move on, and get it done.
I get things done. Have to. If I didn't get things done, I'd starve, and my animals would starve, too. See, there has to be something that is gonna cost you bad if you don't think things through all the way, and get things done. A selectman has to do the same. Think things through, and then get it done. If you don't, it is gonna cost us.
A selectman has to have good judgment. Good judgment comes from experience, and a lotta that comes from bad judgment.
I gotta lot of experience.
One thing I learned on the farm is don't corner something that is meaner than you. Comes in handy when a selectman is sittin' and watchin' over one of those downy brooks they have once in awhile. If you come down hard on 'em, you may end up gettin' nipped in the backside of your overalls someday. Remember, meanness just don't happen overnight.
I'm not the best talker, but I know what to say, and when to say it. Sometimes, silence is the best answer. That'd be something different from a selectman.
I also don't hang out with those folks that want something for nothin'. Same would be true if I was a selectman. I'm my own man. You always gotta drink upstream from the herd.
And, if I was to be the selectman, I wouldn't get a big swollen head over it all. I don't let things do that. Heck, if you think you got all this new influence, just try orderin' somebodies elses dog around.
Being a selectman can be hard, and you can run into all sorts of problems, and trouble, but the biggest troublemaker you will see is the one in the mirror every mornin'. Keep that guy under control, and the rest should go real easy.
Another thing I got goin' for me is that I don't got any thing in mind other than helpin' out my town. No other plans. No "fox in the henhouse" thing goin' on here. Just me, Ephis. You can't get more plain than that.
So, on election day, vote for me. I didn't take out papers to get my name on the ballot, but you can write me in. Another thing you can do, and wouldn't bother me much, is find one of the ones runnin' for the office, and if they think like me, and you can trust 'em, then check off their box instead of mine. Heck, won't hurt me none. Be like me being there, too, 'cept I can stay home on meeting nights and still watch "Dancin' With The Stars".
Heck, I'm honest, too.