So they fled the swamp.
And now like a cancer, they want to do things in their adopted local town like “what people would like to see in terms of improvements in recycling? “.
High end cheese sold at whole foods for a small town in flyover country?
Getting to know the local levers of power. How very egalitarian of you.
Not sure if the author is being sarcastic with this article, or if its just too much time in DC has brought on cultural blindness.
...if its just too much time in DC has brought on cultural blindness.
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I’ll go with cultural blindness:
“My impression: horrible land use, bland, ticky-tacky strip-mall architecture, & economic decay. I feel compassion for those people but I have zero time for romanticism about US rural life.”
(But they do have the married gay goat cheese makers whose products are sold at Whole Foods.)
So some fags move to the countryside, and now it is an enlightened place?
What about the thousands of small towns WITHOUT cheese-making faggots? The ones with half a dozen churches, trailers for homes, pigs in the sty, cars on cinder blocks, sofas on the porch? Not enlightened. Needs some gays doing artsy things to have THAT.
Sure, to an elite, having a couch on the porch is tacky, but to the country boy, it’s just to nice outside to have to sit in sterile, dark house. Sit outside and watch the grandeur of nature!
A car in the yard up on blocks is a project. You loved that car once. You WILL get running again. You don’t give up.
Rural life—away from the hustle and bustle—is closer to nature. Humans feel it more here. What birds are singing tells you the time of year. The feel of the air on a humid morning tells you today will be a scorcher. At night, what do you hear? Deafening noise of insects? Frogs peeping? A poorwill singing? The sound of rain marching through the forest right before it hit’s your home; the sound it makes on the tin roof.
Knowing if you’re in need, strangers will still be good Samaritans and help out. That guy in the pickup truck with the chain to pull you out of the mud, the woman who brings you a pie because you said her apple trees in bloom were lovely.
Walking up the long driveway from the bus stop on a warm sunny Fall day, with the riot of colors that the trees wear. The sound of geese heading South, the smell of burning leaves, the sense that you’re part of Mother Nature.
That to me is rural life, not artsy gays making cheese seeking recycling.