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.
