I’m behind a dump truck going up Park Street, past the park, over Regina Street and then under the railway bridge where the traffic backs up a bit, too much traffic into and out of Home Hardware. The contractors, as well as homeowners of every age, sex and shape are still doing home improvements. You’ve got time. You’ve got a house. You have money. Winter is here. Hunker down. Be productive.
Suburban style development, even at the beginning of its life cannot outperform traditional development at the end of its life. A strip plaza with several small local businesses is better than a big box store. Mom and pop are better than corporate overlords headquartered in Toronto, Beijing, Seattle or Buttfuck, Montana.
We need a healthy economy and a healthy population. We have to get in charge and stay in charge. We have to stay healthy in mind and body to be a healthysociety.
The bumper stickers are on opposite sides of the bumper.
“The exchange of truth is curative”, says the one on the left, exactly in my field of view. The Honda is just a normal sedan. Share the truth for the greater good and for yourself. The truth should be set free. We have to honestly deal with it.
“I love yoga pants”, says the sticker at the other end of the bumper. That’s the truth, a truth for many men and women. Women like to wear them. Men like to look at women wearing them. There is an exchange of truth, near naked truth and that is good and healthy.
Deal with it.
Am I overthinking this?
The end-of-the-world preppers and the corporate power-brokers hide up in the mountains and I ponder the significance.