Todays and Tomorrows
This is my home town, called Stirling. It's small, but not nearly the butt of jokes like Frankford is, another small town. Stirling consists of Farmers, mostly, and small business people with big business hopes. for the most part, these hopes are either dashed, or they leave town. This is a town made for people who want a quiet life. But the last few years of this town have started to show what I would call the Teenager Syndrome.
Last summer, work began on bringing the CN Train station closer to the road, for Tourists. it's there now. and empty. and graffitied. and it's the perfect example of what this town is trying to be: Picton. A Tourist Trap. Oh yes, get away from Toronto, get away from your busy lives, and come into my home town, to watch us so carefully and envy our lives. fill up our town with your ignorance and regret, we'll let you...
Uhh, no, we won't. I won't. thus, I'm leaving. really, there isn't much else to it. This is a good town. I admit to that. it's a good place. generally good people, save for all those tween brats who I have to serve whenever they come into my store. or those grumpy old bastards. but the difference is that those grumpy old bastards are grumpy because of those brat kids. the brat kids, who want to tear this once so simple town apart, and turn it into some place fun. or just some place to take a piss in. one or the other.
Either way, This town is not simple anymore. My Father used to own a computer shop in this town. he and his brother, my uncle, ran it together. It's the building which is currently a salon of some sort, across from the Cameo shop, by the bridge. he used to work there. Back when a lot of the buildings currently here weren't around yet. He was married in this town to my mother. He worked for almost every farmer in the area, fixing machines for them and what not. It used to be the sort of town where if a barn was built, it was the talk of the town. everyone knew everyone like family, best friends. It's still that way... with the older folk. but this town's turning into a town that no one wants to be in. everyone wants to go off and be something and someone, to get away from the peering tourists. no one wants to take care of the farming. no one wants to help anyone build a farm. no one.
it's not my home town anymore. and like so many other people wish they could do, I'm leaving town. And I'm glad. I don't want to be around when that CN station turns into an actual tourist trap. I don't want to see a parking lot expanded for that reason. the only thing I want to see is cement put down in front of it (which is inevitable), so I can write "Think Monopoly" in it. Monopoly. what a strange desire it is that lies in this town now. the sort that says "Come look at what we've got, but don't stick around for long. It's not a happy place anymore"
It's not. for most of us. yes, such a sweet little town. until it turns into the next Trenton, or Belleville, or Dump. How far will it go?
Every place is turning out like this place. there's no escape from the growing demand for bigger houses, Tim Hortons, MacDonalds, Movie Theatres and what not. Our only good bar closed down. but at least we don't have a Tim Hortons yet. I hope we never have one. save the small business people from temptation and selling out. save them all! But spare not the citizens! Let them SCREAM for their coffee's and Iced Cappucinoes...
oh, the humanity and lack thereof.
well, as I always say, It Happens. it happens.
This is my small town, Stirling, which will not be my home much longer. I'm going to hurl myself into a whole wide world of nothingness and confusion, to run and hide, to find whatever it is my body desires most, whatever that may be. I'm going to figure out this mystery called life, damnit, or die trying.
yeaaah....
Last summer, work began on bringing the CN Train station closer to the road, for Tourists. it's there now. and empty. and graffitied. and it's the perfect example of what this town is trying to be: Picton. A Tourist Trap. Oh yes, get away from Toronto, get away from your busy lives, and come into my home town, to watch us so carefully and envy our lives. fill up our town with your ignorance and regret, we'll let you...
Uhh, no, we won't. I won't. thus, I'm leaving. really, there isn't much else to it. This is a good town. I admit to that. it's a good place. generally good people, save for all those tween brats who I have to serve whenever they come into my store. or those grumpy old bastards. but the difference is that those grumpy old bastards are grumpy because of those brat kids. the brat kids, who want to tear this once so simple town apart, and turn it into some place fun. or just some place to take a piss in. one or the other.
Either way, This town is not simple anymore. My Father used to own a computer shop in this town. he and his brother, my uncle, ran it together. It's the building which is currently a salon of some sort, across from the Cameo shop, by the bridge. he used to work there. Back when a lot of the buildings currently here weren't around yet. He was married in this town to my mother. He worked for almost every farmer in the area, fixing machines for them and what not. It used to be the sort of town where if a barn was built, it was the talk of the town. everyone knew everyone like family, best friends. It's still that way... with the older folk. but this town's turning into a town that no one wants to be in. everyone wants to go off and be something and someone, to get away from the peering tourists. no one wants to take care of the farming. no one wants to help anyone build a farm. no one.
it's not my home town anymore. and like so many other people wish they could do, I'm leaving town. And I'm glad. I don't want to be around when that CN station turns into an actual tourist trap. I don't want to see a parking lot expanded for that reason. the only thing I want to see is cement put down in front of it (which is inevitable), so I can write "Think Monopoly" in it. Monopoly. what a strange desire it is that lies in this town now. the sort that says "Come look at what we've got, but don't stick around for long. It's not a happy place anymore"
It's not. for most of us. yes, such a sweet little town. until it turns into the next Trenton, or Belleville, or Dump. How far will it go?
Every place is turning out like this place. there's no escape from the growing demand for bigger houses, Tim Hortons, MacDonalds, Movie Theatres and what not. Our only good bar closed down. but at least we don't have a Tim Hortons yet. I hope we never have one. save the small business people from temptation and selling out. save them all! But spare not the citizens! Let them SCREAM for their coffee's and Iced Cappucinoes...
oh, the humanity and lack thereof.
well, as I always say, It Happens. it happens.
This is my small town, Stirling, which will not be my home much longer. I'm going to hurl myself into a whole wide world of nothingness and confusion, to run and hide, to find whatever it is my body desires most, whatever that may be. I'm going to figure out this mystery called life, damnit, or die trying.
yeaaah....
prematurely released by Norah at 8:45 PM
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