Then One Foggy Christmas Morn (Part 2)


While Part 2 can stand on its own two feet, for anyone who may be curious, I’m linking to Part 1.

My early daybreak, Christmas walk through my lifelong hometown now finds me leaving my boyhood neighborhood behind… with heavy heart… soldiering onward… beneath the widespread, dismal, grayish blue overcast and amidst the enshrouding, chilly, misty light fog… the vehicular traffic is still sparse… the pedestrian traffic… uh… not another soul in sight…

Redirecting my attention to the displayed, residential outdoor Christmas decorations, for the most part, they appear as artistically unimaginative, disappointing afterthoughts… as if each weekend warrior residents’ ‘tude had been…

“Eh, what the hell, I’ll just toss on and tack up these damned things so
I can get ‘er done before the ‘big game’ comes on the big screen TV.”

Soon nearing the town square, my “what is” and “what was” comparative study conjures up a whole new meaning to the phrase “The Main Drag”… with emphasis on “Drag”. My yesteryear eyes become further saddened upon witnessing the results of multiple generations of poor planning by our city fathers. Submitted for disapproval, their aesthetically barren / artistically unimaginative afterthoughts.

Just how many drink or drown nightclubs / swank eateries doth one small town ever really need? Unless one deems the neon hued night life to be the end-all to life, one could easily rank this downtown business district a dull, null and void dead zone.

Gone is that days of yore charm, best exemplified by the Mom and Pop grocery stores and the truly helpful hardware dealers who also did double duty as handymen… happily / helpfully toiling away in their backroom workshops. Also gone, the lunch counter drug store, five and dime and clothier. Hell, even the post office had relocated.

Urban sprawl had morphed within walking distance convenience into a many miles distant, pissing way gasoline road trip.

Alas… here I am, once more stuck within the new town reality… where no amount of wishful thinking could possibly overcome the inescapable truths hinted at / backed up by…

Lyricist Kim Gannon’s reminder: “I’ll be home for Christmas / If only in my dreams.”

Author Thomas Wolfe’s adage: “You can’t go home again.”


“Stay Tuned” for Part 3…