Thinker's Block and Buggy Whips

I have a terrible time writing anything from a local perspective. I suppose a lot of that is because my blogging experience has been as an adversarial, muckraking SOB lobbing snark and curses into the national discourse, and I feel a little too exposed trying to write for people who know me. (Yes, I'm one of those foulmouthed bloggers you're always hearing about.) But even my alter ego blogging has trailed off, lately - I just don't have anything to say, to be honest. Which is really a poor status for a blogger, as you can imagine. I guess it's a good thing I never had any advertising, though that may have provided some impetus to write. Who knows...

Frankly, I'm not very good at "feel good" stories and personal reflection - well, at least not writing it down, anyway. To me, blogging is just inherently rant-y (that's a word, you can look it up) and, again, adversarial. But without that sense of anonymity, I have a hard time railing on the goings-on in the local scene. Not that I'm terribly concerned about people thinking I'm some kind of radical ne'er do well, but I don't know... it's different when you have to live around the people you're cranking on. Then again, maybe that's what this town needs - a firebrand who's not afraid to use a little salty language and call a dick move, a dick move.

Speaking of dick moves (that didn't take long, did it?) I'm not sure exactly what's going on at the Co-op. I see, via the Facebook and some unsolicited but well-meaning e-mails, that Liz Rog was let go. My experience with Liz is rather minimal, but she's one of those people that just... radiates something good. And, honestly, I'm not a Co-op member or even a serious supporter - I appreciate the concept and what those folks do, I've just never really taken the plunge and made myself a part of the scene. But I'm literally flabbergasted that the Board would let her go. Hell, at the risk of barrelling headlong into melodrama, Liz Rog is the Co-op - or at least the smiling, blue-eyed face of it. Very strange. Expect the paper to be filled with editorials expressing dismay and righteous indignation in the very near future.

It's interesting - to me, at least - to observe and experience the multiple personalities that a modern small town exhibits. Progress battles it out with heritage and history; technology makes shy advances and awkwardly gropes tradition; cliques and causes eye the competition, preening and strutting their stuff for our attention. I suppose it's the same old story that's been unfolding in every small town, in every generation, but it's half a headtrip to come back and watch it after so much time away.

The upcoming Reunion makes me wonder about our classmates: Why did you stay here? Why did you leave? Why did you come back? Will I measure up? Do I need to measure up? Have 25 years and thousands of miles softened the edges of our teen angst and given us something - maybe everything? - in common?

The Facebook pre-Reunion reunion has been a blast, for me. I wish I could find all 150 of us online and get the memories churning, get the Pep Enough flowing and give us all a chance to share in the victories and defeats, before we come together face to face. It also gives me a moment of pause and a fair amount of chagrin to think that I could have, should have, stayed in touch with so many people over the last 25 years. Ruth did me a huge favor, frankly, asking me to tackle this thing. It's pushing me out of my little world and reminding me of all the great people I had the privilege to grow up with.

I guess that's it from the small town front, for today. On, Decorah!