One of the things we have to do here is get our vehicles inspected to satisfy some kind of state-driven "emissions testing" or, in other words, a tax. But it's not so onerous, 7 bucks, and while the rig was being checked out I took the opportunity to go walk about, in the heat.
"What's it like downtown," I asked myself, "in the heat?" No trees, for a start. Can't have those, thought the geniuses in charge of our small, bucolic farming community. No, can't have those, let's root them out and award ourselves concrete contracts.
Of course no one walks, how could they, but if they did they'd notice "Glitz and Glamor" is open for business, one of our few shops in the aftermath of asset-stripping. So is Texas Through The Ages, which I think's a kind of dinosaur fossil museum adjunct, nice.
Then there's the Discipline School, which sounds dangerously racy but is, in fact, a regular school room where ill-behaved teenagers have to wear a uniform, chinos and a polo, not speak in class unless spoken to and actually do their schoolwork. Huh, much like "school" as I recall it.
Resisting the urge to declaim on the utter failure of our Marxist controlled, taxpayer funded, fake-as-you-like education system, I wandered over to the old Presbyterian church. It gleamed whitely in the sun and comes complete with a little bandstand/outdoor worship area. Nice.
Next door lies the old courthouse and gaol, complete with iron shutters, a reminder of the days when this town was a notorious den of outlaws, rustlers, thieves, bandits and ne'er do wells. You see, some of these boys had just demobbed from the War and weren't about to give up the fight, in whatever form that took.
Walkabout over and strangely not melted into the sidewalk, I made it back to the shop, "Mr. LSP, truck's passed." Well done, shop, we move onwards and upwards.
Cheers,
LSP
