Sunday, May 2, 2010
The Calm In Between
Sometimes I feel like I live in a sort of no-fly zone for important happenings. I guess that would be a no-happen zone. "Between New York and Boston" is often listed as Connecticut's #1 selling point, or maybe #3. This weekend I live between an almost-car-bombing and a water main break that threatens to throw a large chunk of Massachusetts back into ye olden days for weeks. It's not that nothing happens here - we have our murders and scandals and weather too. But things happen in an understated way; they're not front page news. There's a New Yorker cartoon on my fridge, a sketch of a conversation at a Manhattan cocktail party. Caption: "I hear she's run off to someplace that doesn't even have publicity." So this weekend, while NYC felt the relief and worry that come in the wake of a foiled attack and Boston boiled water, I drove through a town-wide yard sale to a gift shop located in a large pink house. I bought a present wrapped with colorful cascading ribbons. I mailed it five minutes before the post office closed; there was no line. I went for a walk through my mostly-sleeping town, and a kitten watched me from behind an unlocked gate. Things were going on all around me - festivals and contests, events announced on hand-made signs and advertised with bunches of balloons - but nothing was happening. The girl on the mural picked flowers, as she has been doing every time I've passed her. I pondered the strangeness of living in a town no one would want to bomb.