Like Samson regaining his hair, the thought of returning to Fayetteville fills me with renewed strength | Street Jazz

Like Samson regaining his hair, the thought of returning to Fayetteville fills me with renewed strength



t is difficult to describe how physically and spiritually debilitating it can be, surrounded by stifling heat, basic cable, workers who who show up days after the agreed upon time to do the work, and “high-speed Internet” which is often on a par with dial-up.

We have gone through five (count ‘em, folks!) lawn services in two years. I have previously told the story of how we came to Elk City last year and it looked as though Triffids had taken over the back yard, because the “yard guy” had never taken his mower in that direction.

What did he think was behind the side gate? Narnia?

Last night water was gurgling out into the street from the pipes which had been worked on by the sprinkler company.

I’m going to pause at this point so that I can around the house and shriek.

But on Saturday, we return to the New York City of the Ozarks, and already the prospect is filling me with a renewed love of life, a vim and vigor I have not felt for weeks.

It hasn’t entirely been a downer; we have gotten a great deal done on this house.

Even better, I have done some writing on my Mexican Original documentary script, and taken photographs and video in Shamrock, Texas, for a documentary which I hadn’t thought of making until Tracy and I traipsed around their weed-strewn city cemetery this week.

I’ve written one blog in particular that I am very pleased with. Given Sturgeon’s Law, that 90 percent of everything is crap, that’s not a bad ratio for my creative efforts in this part of the world.

Still . . . coming back to Fayetteville!

High-speed Internet! I mean, really fast . . . and not just what a company claims is fast.

City streets - with sidewalks on most of them - which one can walk along, alone with your thoughts, working out creative problems in your head, perhaps inspired by the sights and sounds around you - many of which may well give you even more ideas. This is one of the reasons I use the Fayetteville trail system sparingly; they are fine for convenient transportation, but when it comes to thinking about creative issues, I have always found them somewhat sterile.

A newspaper (though I have been critical of it in the past, and probably will in the future) which doesn’t seem like a conservative primer, only printing conservative local writers and in their cartoon round-up from around the nation, only chooses cartoons of a conservative bent.

Public access television, which shows off the true quilt of diversity in our community.

Crosswalks - which are the norm, rather than the rare exception. As someone who likes to walk around a city to get a true feel for it, crosswalks come in pretty damned handy.

Health food sections in almost every food store, the lack of which can leave you peering along he shelves like Sherlock Holmes, looking for clues as to which foods might be healthiest in the store.

The only bookstores here in this small Oklahoma town are in the small Walmart SuperCenter and in grocery stores, so if you haven’t packed enough to read . . . well, best of luck.

The crime reports are interesting here; for such a small town, there seems to be quite a lot of crime reported. And even though there seem to be quite a number of black and Hispanic residents, most of those the faces I have noticed in the paper in my short time here are white.

I’m sure that might upset the racial theories of somebody, somewhere.

And I’m not some old fuddy-duddy who hates to travel, or wants things to stay the same all the time. I just want a certain level of understanding that we now live in the 21st Century.

At any rate, Saturday night we’ll be sleeping in our own home, and tomorrow I’ll take a nice long walk . . . I’ll just pick a direction at random, and just saunter along.

Quote of the Day

No doubt, it is not necessary to have an amount of wit or imagination; but it is indispensable we should not think we have it when we don’t. - Felix A. Dupanloup

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