Thursday, February 25, 2010

Johnny Rumble:
Lost Businesses

It's always interesting walking into a business that has the self-knowledge that is will be tits up in just a few short weeks.  The people look a little desperate, and there is always that weird sort of vibe wafting from the back areas, parts unknown to the common customer.  They will smile, they will laugh at your stupid jokes, and they will treat you like you really are the millionth coustomer they had today, but with special attention and privilages.

The owners and the staff that have stayed behind on the sinking ship are hoping and praying that thing will get better, that the customers will come and the street corners and sidewalks are just that little bit further from their nicely swept patio.  If you look carefully enough, you can seem that glimmer of hope behind thier retinas.  You are the prophet, they the saved.

It's always interesting walking on to a campus that will, for the most part, be vacant and barren in a few short months.  Eighty-three years of history and education, wrapped up and sold off to the highest bidder to clear as much of the debt as possible.  The teachers try to be as bright and cheery as they can, knowing they their pink-slips are sitting in their mailboxes, signed by the board members they trusted to protect. 

The students, for their part, are mostly oblivious, or worse, silent.  The few that are vocal, trying to moblize, attempting to save the college, are just that, too few.  Board members are lining their coat pockets with the quarter of a million dollars per year that is being paid to them to do the jobs that they refuse to actually do.

Nobody is able to stop the barking dog on the other side of the fence, clawing and digging, getting into your yellow grass backyard, wanting to bite you on the ankle.

Swimming rat,

Johnny Rumble

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