The Salem Common Yard came about as a blessing, though not a mixed one. After my harrowing ordeal with an over zealous little prick, I decided that the best, legal revenge, was to pool my resources to document the encounter and to ensure that my years of free advertising to that place come to an end.
For that reason, I needed a new Twitter feed photo. The old one of me drinking the Butterscotch Soda and giving the camera a thumbs up needed to go. It just so happened that the Cinema Salem offered a pleasant alternative. And as I have yet had no bad encounters with their staff (to my knowledge) I hope they appreciate the glass that I’ve raised to them.
I didn’t make as much this year as what I made the last time, but I made enough to buy the Cinema Salem’s butterbeer without dipping into my weakening bank account. Also, interacting with some of the locals in Salem who are not as appreciative of the kitch and the overly touristy aspects of what I lovingly refer to as a Wall Paper economy as some of the shop owners think they are.
One such young lady told me a story that gave me so much hope. It was the story of a woman who does not suffer fools lightly. I relate her tale to you, faithful reader, in the hopes that you will visit Salem with this in mind.
“There were these two tourists who passed by my house. They pointed to the smoke stacks and asked, ‘are those lighthouses?’
“I said, ‘Are you kidding.’
“I told them they were the smoke stacks for the power plant.
“’What does that mean?’ they asked.
“’Uh, power plant’,’ I replied. “You know, they take coal and make electricity out of it. You know what electricity is.’
“Then I asked them, where are they from. The said Washington. I asked them, ‘Do you have lighthouses along the coast in Washington?’ they said yes. ‘And do those lighthouses look like smokestacks?’”
At this point in the story I marveled at the stupidity that this woman encountered. I internally vowed that I would seek out her company and offer to buy her coffee or tea, if for no other reason than to grill her for more stories. She seemed like the kind of person that would fit right into one of my family gatherings, but then, I only met her once, so who knows?
The point is that whatever the limp wand thinks of his own self-importance, he’s just wrinkly old fart who probably has a drug addiction among other things. No amount of money that those idiots bring into town will ever be greater than the annoyance the locals have for them and knowing this gives me a little bit of solace that it is not a lost cause living in the City of Peace.