Cloudy all day, about an inch of rainfall. Somewhere in town someone is cursing the clouds and the water; somewhere someone is singing paeans for the blessing. Around the corner a child is wailing endlessly, inconsolably, its mother passed out on the kitchen floor from an overdose. Next door, a couple continues in its fifth year of prayer and visits to fertility clinics in an effort to have a child. Down the street the preacher lives next door to the boozer. On the "other side of the tracks" a couple and their six children live in a four-room cottage in ill-repair. Both parents work to scrape together funds to feed the family and pay the rent-- to the mayor. The seventy-three year old henna-haired lady behind that cash register goes to work daily because the medical insurance premiums and the cost of medications preclude retirement. Someone would literally give you his last dollar were you in need, and someone else would literally rip off your last dollar if he could.
We are a diverse lot. Don't write us off as Hoosiers who have no lives, uninteresting. We are a kaleidoscope, ever-changing patterns, never-ending entertainment. Get to know us.
Reporting from Perfect, Indiana, this is your fly-over country correspondent, Buford Bumpkin.