Driving back from having an oil change on my car yesterday morning at the place I use on Route 32, I was travelling down New London Turnpike, passing through the golf course (covered with people, by the way, on what proved to be a much warmer than normal Saturday here in The Land of Steady Habits) and past the new (actually, still working on some stuff) campus of Three Rivers Community College.
The campus is now consolidated in one location and could be farther from ANY of the three rivers for whom it is named only if it had been relocated to the Norwich Business-Except-For-The-Baseball-Stadium-Assisted-Living-Facility-Rental-Apartments-And-Condominiums-Almost-Forgot-About-The-Fitness-Center-And-Orthopedic-Medical-Building Park (and then Norwich people tell me, with a straight face, 'we don't have enough room in the Business Park.').
Practically across from the main campus entrance, on three neighboring (and adjoining lawns) I saw them-and smiled. Maybe as a function of age on my part, as the bones (and whatever compounded composites I now have for knees) grow older and the brain synapses slower, I've discovered while my knowledge of politics, local, regional or national, hasn't increased a great deal, my passions have deepened. Maybe that's true for you as well. It's not a good thing, necessarily and I'm not sure what to do about it.
I have no personal stake in the outcome of Tuesday's elections here in Norwich. I'm not running for anything, or from anything (with my knees, always welcome news) and I have no bets riding on how the votes go. I know whom I'd like to see elected as the Mayor and tried in my way to help but I believe by the dawn's early light of Wednesday, whoever is elected, will have a difficult job, as will almost all of those across this country, newcomer and incumbent, who serve in our millions of communities, townships and cities in a variety of offices. Sometimes the passions can blur that perspective, and if they have in recent weeks, be it thought, word or deed, my apologies.
Offering me a bigger perspective on all of that yesterday morning, though that may not have been their function, as I headed towards Route 82, were, in order, lawn signs supporting Bob Zarnetske, Mark Bettencourt and Peter Nystrom. I've driven past these houses for years and suspect for all the time I've passed them, the same people have been living there, leading whatever lives they lead, together with their families. I imagine all three households have shared flag football games that spill across each of the yards, enjoyed barbecues and snowball fights, have gone trick or treating together or perhaps organized whiffle ball tournaments that start most summer days at mid-morning and don't conclude until the last of the light has faded from the sky.
The three houses are neighbors who have different views on who is best to lead the city each calls home. All across this country, today through when polls close on Tuesday evening, discussions and conversations on just that topic will continue and then on Wednesday, as each neighbor opens the front door to retrieve the paper at the start of the day, for two of them, their guy will have been less than successful.
And later in the morning or maybe that night after putting the car in the garage and walking the dog, all will go out to where the lawn signs are, pull them out by the stakes, put the metal frame holder in the garage for another day, and fold the cardboard sign in half and place it in the recycling box. And their world, and ours, will continue, as shall we. Because the sun also rises, but learning to see it is both a skill and an art.
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
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