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'What we have here . . .

4/29/2019

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​…is a failure to communicate.’  This story is basically about small-towners.  The town in question had started out small and stayed that way - in more ways than one - for a long time as other places around it grew and developed over time.  If it makes it easier to visualize, one might imagine a town remarkably like St. Marys Ontario, for instance.
 
Once upon a time in the small town, three boys went to school, became friends and grew up together.  Of course they were not identical; in some ways they were very different and they too developed differently over time as well.
 
One was born elsewhere, had been to other towns and even cities too when young.  He knew there were not only bigger, but also better places to live.  The other two didn't.  That was one difference between him and the other two boys.
 
Of the other two one was a bit thick both bodily and intellectually as well and sometimes he could inadvertently say or do something stupid or hurting occasionally.  The other was taller, leaner and meaner.  He thought himself something of a wit, though he wasn’t nearly as witty as he thought. He was a part time pig and a full time clown.  When he said stupid or hurtful things, he did so on purpose for the entertainment value, without regard for the truth of what he was saying or its effect on those it involved.  Still, the two were both born and bred hicks so it follows that they were naturals at exchanging and spreading gossip.  The one from out of town witnessed and experienced all of his companions’ characteristics during his acquaintance with them.
 
Now it came to pass that the one who had been elsewhere found work elsewhere as well.  Then he only visited the tiny backwater on occasion.  After some further unfortunate events, he decided that he could do without the thick hick or 'dipstick' for a time, while the wit\shit he could do without on the whole, for the duration.
 
So the years went by.  Then, just like that, things began to happen all at once.  The out-of-towner found that the lad he could do without permanently was trying to reach him.  He didn’t reply, but it inspired him somehow to try to contact the other.  He sent his phone number to the thick one through a mutual friend.  This ambassador understood, gave tubby the information and tried to make it clear that it was to be shared no further.  Yet, lo and behold, inexplicably, it was the other, who couldn’t have known the number on his own, who called back.   There was only one way he could have learned it.  It just shows that you can't teach old hicks new tricks.  The unwelcome caller got what he deserved, in two words.  The other got silence.
 
There seems almost a moral or some kind of justice somewhere the way things turned out in this little narrative.  And because this tale is about as realistic as the  gossip that spreads like wildfire  through dull, out-of-the-way, stick-in-the-mud, shit hole towns, some people might even think they recognize the people involved or feel that they know them personally.  To me, it’s so familiar that it could have happened just last week.  But after all, it’s only a story, isn’t it?
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