W in the ABC

After graduating college I I was fortunate enough to secure a job, albeit a part time one. Still this was a rarefied position in the mid 00s. The job was Community Development Coordinator for a small town in upstate New York. It was not a city planning position or anything so lofty but instead a part time liaison between a citizen group and the village government. On paper I was taking over from a single citizen who spent 15 years advocating and fundraising to redo the village's mainstreet to slow down traffic, increase pedestrian accessibility and beautify the area. This is where I first discovered Blogger since I launched a daily update project for the construction.

I was 22 at the time and had many "first job" foibles albeit looking back at it, I am proud of the overall work. Ever read Dr. Seuss's The Lorax? Made me feel like The Once-ler and everyone else was the Lorax. We killed a video store but I sincerely doubt the sustainability of a town of 1500 with TWO video stores in the year 2006. So...I made a few enemies but last time I visited the town still had the personalized bricks and rippled lamp posts and new trees. In the end it was worth it but I did give up on any pretense of living in said town. Maybe citizens feel differently?

However, at the time I got hired I committed to the gig and place. I asked my supervisor, the Village Clerk (What this person does I am not sure. She cut a lot of receipts), for a list of local landlords. Could I rent a place in town and avoid the 30 minute commute by rural bus?

One person who called back? He was a local slumlord who owned a Christmas tree farm and drove around in a vintage sports car the color of Kinko's canary copy paper. Not a mean guy but the place was a dump. An A Frame duplex house, already a Frankenstein beast, split into 5 apartments. Apartment 5 used to be his son's and the junior had left bric a brac and furniture that then became mine. The place had this videogame RPG vibe to it where you open a cupboard and there was an electric hand mixer. Then a plate. A shaving kit bag. Can I turn this junk into something useful?

Place had an emerald green settee style couch with the ornate wooden legs and loops that had to be a RMS Titanic relic. And heat came from a giant (Thing had to be 4 feet wide by 3 feet tall) gas heater in the middle of the living room. A cast iron pot belly heater/oven with none of the charm.

Place was five minutes from village hall so with no commute and the job plateauing to be an ersatz complaint department (Most days were spent waiting for the phone to ring or someone to email the help line) I sat around a fair amount listening to music on my Rhapsody account. And this is how I found Thursday, a screamo suburban band that seemed to acknowledge that with this jam.

Raw lyrics with the "ashes of American flags" and talking about the joined collective moment of 9/11. Another key Thursday song for me is Understanding in a Car Crash which has the ending of a low rumble repetition of "keep crashing this car, over and over. Keep crashing this car, over and over." I think about that a lot. At work. When voting. When responding to an ask from my wife.