Hey, remember that mannequin (I refuse to call her a dummy) that used to stand by the side of the road on Route Nine, outside a used clothing store?
She was always standing there in every kind of weather, modeling the best pre-owned clothes for the most discerning homeless shoppers.
So elegant, her blank but knowing expression reflecting all the mysteries of the cosmos.
The used clothes store apparently went belly up and it's been replaced by an outfit that sells fancy sheds.
What oh what has become of our priceless polyurethane princess? A friend told me he thinks he spotted her wearing a skimpy swimsuit posing in the showroom of a nearby car dealership. Say it ain't so! The Queen of Route 9 Fashion reduced to a bikini-clad showroom floozy?
Life can be so cruel.
Did you see the weird cloud formations over Northampton this weekend just before that violent thunderstorm? It was like the clouds were turning into black and white checkered blobs. What a perfect setting for a UFO to appear.
If there were UFO's in those strange clouds, unfortunately they didn't beam me up. Sometimes I ache to move beyond my own time.
Also in Northampton this house, which was built in 1796 according to a sign on its fence, celebrated Memorial Day by flying the version of our flag that was in use when the house was built.
I was surprised to see that freaky boutique in Hamp show a traditional patriotic sentiment in its Main Street window.
True, the warriors on our side of this Real War seem few and flimsy, but we have a secret advantage: we don't fight our battle out of Hate. Anger, yes, if we have to, but anger is enough. Hate is the flag the other side battles beneath. Our side's flag is a thin, airlight blue, drifting almost unseen against the sky. Our military march is a meadowlark's song among the dandelions.
Finally, I meant to go to the big pancake breakfast in Springfield this weekend, but didn't wake up on time. Fortunately, Bill Dusty came up with some video I could swipe: