Kind of a Lawless Place

Curmudgeon

Kind of a Lawless Place

by Peter Loewer

Storekeep, Cityfella, Mrs. Storekeep, and the Curmudgeon were standing around looking at the new poster display for the local newspaper out of Asheville and wondering about the future of newspapers, the US Mail, and civility in general when a Tourist walked in and, we suspect, thought he had warped up to another space and time but in deference to being polite asked how to get to the Interstate going east to Black Mountain.

“Won’t do you no good,” said Curmudgeon, “if the new Republican owners of Western North Carolina have anything to say about it, that reservoir over in Black Mountain will be sold to the highest bidder.”

“What reservoir?” asked the Tourist.

“Pay him no mind,” said Mrs. Storekeep, “he’s referring to the recent political changes around here that happened when an ill-informed public cast out the North Carolina Democrats in office and replaced them with some new faces.”

Immediately, Curmudgeon said: “Same thing happened at the end of the Civil War, only instead of Quantrill’s Raiders, we now have the two M&M’s in the person of Moffitt and McGrady who are joined at the hip with one Nathan Ramsey.

“And most people don’t know Quantrill’s Raiders were a loosely organized bunch of pro-Confederate partisan raiders known as bushwhackers who fought in the Civil War and became a lawless bunch of do-no-gooders after the war was over.”

“The new Republicans,” volunteered Cityfella, “hate Asheville and have passed a regional water and sewer bill that takes the ownership of Asheville’s water supply away from the city—without due process of law or compensation—and are giving it to the Metropolitan Sewer District, and most folks around here are a bit upset about it.”

“I only want to visit my sister in Black Mountain,” said the Tourist.

“Well,” said Cityfella, “in this general store you have to keep up with all kinds of folks and politics, and this water deal had kind of taken front stage compared to the dozens of things going wrong around here.”

“I thought,” said the Tourist, “that North Carolina ranked up there with the better states in the Union, but you make it sound like kind of a lawless place, especially when you mention putting a sewer department in charge of an area’s water supply. I’ll have to ask my sister—if I ever get to Black Mountain.”

Unknown to the folks in the store, the Breadman had stayed out late the night before, losing a bit of money in a stacked game of Monopoly, and had dozed off while straightening up a pile of Ring-Dings waking up to the sudden louder voices on the other side of the counter and woke up.

“What is the talk about?” he asked, stifling a yawn.

“This gentleman,” said Mrs. Storekeep, “came in for directions to Black Mountain and innocently became involved with a discussion about Asheville losing control of its water supply and the fear that once done, all that valuable land and water will be privatized, reflecting a number of such happenings around the country.”

“The hell with the water,” said the Breadman, “how about their attempted theft of the Airport?”

“Anything else?” asked the Tourist.

“They tried for the Ag Center,” said Curmudgeon, “and to do all sorts of things to the local schools and education in general—in fact working towards this state being below Mississippi in rank.”

“Have you got a map of the area that I can purchase?” asked the Tourist.

Whereupon, Mrs. Storekeep took pity on the poor man and led him out the door and down the steps to his car, and give him instructions on how to get there.

“Give our best to your sister,” shouted Mrs. Storekeep and the tourist drove away.

“Good thing there are no volcanoes in Black Mountain,” said Cityfella with a knowing sigh.

Peter Loewer has written and illustrated more than twenty-five books on natural history over the past thirty years.

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