Tuesday, January 09, 2007

Sweet Poison

Be careful what you wish for, New London. Be careful what you wish for. The New London State of Mind usually subscribes to a rose-tinted viewpoint. Tonight, after a long and tolerant incubation, a barnacle has broken the whale's back.

As gentrification sluggishly creeps into New London, things will be worth more as measured by property assessments than by honest values. Look at Waterford just past Jefferson Avenue. That is not a community, that is not a city, that is not progress. It is empty land no matter how many cars park on the blacktop lots. Travel Bank Street past the Charter Oak Federal Credit Union. Do we want those buildings in New London? Do we want that ugly Starbucks? Don't we already have enough coffee opportunities amongst companions, brewed and served by neighbors? Do we need to be part of a machine?

Where do I want my money to go? I want it to stay in New London. Where do I want to work? Close to home, where my heart is. Where do I want to live? In New London, Conn., of course. Contrary and flush with conundrums, New London satisfies communal and personal needs grown at home. He who transplants sustains. This is nowhere truer than in New London, Conn.

I don't want to be sold, I want to make. I want to be left alone to pursue my own interest, while not making a fuss. I am like New London, walking an oft-reapeated path and enjoying the action. Upset the cart and a barrell of sperm oil will fall off and spill all over in a mess that can't be mopped. If things are going well, be careful what you wish for. Things might get better. When they do, they will inevitably get worse.

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