You just can't make this stuff up. Every second Monday of every month I attend what I fondly call Possum Lodge. If you've ever seen The Red Green Show, you understand. The only difference is that I'm usually the only non-town official there. Hidey Hole Hollow is full of characters. There's no need to make them up or make up stories about them; they're hilarious as is, and at last Monday's meeting, nearly everyone was giddier than usual. It was the annual budget meeting. I don't know if the town officials were just extra tired from putting in long hours on the budget plus working their regular jobs, or if they took silly pills before leaving their homes that evening.
As fate would have it, there were two other audience members', Typhoid Mary being the most vocal. Her real name is Mary Shoop. I have no idea how she came upon that descriptive pseudo-moniker, but it's appropriate for her attitude.
As usual, Hogshaw Twaddle, our town supervisor, called the meeting to order and then we all rose and joined in to recite the Pledge of Allegiance. Having completed that, Hogshaw opened the floor to the visitors and immediately Typhoid Mary started in.
"Levester", she began, "I have two questions for you." What she really meant was that she had two accusations to throw at him.
Levester Wigman is our highway superintendent. He's a very nice, hard working, young man and he was not deserving of her ire, but then who is? In keeping with her usual charming attitude, she lashed out at Levester, red faced and in her ever present shrill voice. Every time she opens her mouth to speak, it's like having darts shot into both ears at the same time.
"Did I hear that you're asking for a new pick up truck", she barked at Levester. "We just bought one not even two years ago. We're a small town and poor at that. We can't afford a new truck", her face turning more and more red with each word.
Levester, well aware of TM's reputation for starting a conversation' in an accusatory tone and having it go sour from there, remained composed and, very rationally explained to TM that the town board voted, two years ago, to replace the then fifteen year old pick up truck every two years, the goal being to always have a truck with a warranty on it. He went into great detail to make sure she understood that he was not asking for a new truck, it was mandated.
"Ok", TM screeched, "Word all over town is that you're buying coffee and donuts for your guys and submitting vouchers to the town for it. That's just not right", she practically screamed. "If you want to provide coffee and donuts for your crew, it should come out of your own pocket."
"Calm down, Mary", Levester soothed. He went on to explain that there's a long standing custom among the towns within the county and the county highway department, that the crew of a town, or the county highway department crew, that is caught up on their road work, to help out the crew of a town that needed help. They don't charge each other for gas or manpower, all they ask is coffee and donuts for the assisting crew and help in return when they need it from which ever crew is available to help.
Once TM understood the truth behind the rumors, she backed off, but not without taking a few quieter jabs at Levester but the evening was just getting started and there's not much decorum at Possum Lodge.
After TMs self humiliating display, I was having a little trouble keeping from laughing because she behaved so ridiculously, but I asked if I could voice a thought that may not make me very popular
"Join the crowd", Hogshaw encouraged.
"The thought occurred to me", I began, "that perhaps the people who hear a portion of what was discussed at the town meetings should show up for the monthly meetings instead of adding to whatever the current version of the story is and passing it on. Month after month, I'm the only one who shows up for the monthly meetings. Everyone else in town could make the effort to get here like I do, instead of spreading rumors."
Hogshaw shot me a surprised look of approval and TM shrieked, "Well, that's just the way it is in this town. That's why I came tonight, so I could get the facts; that's all."
Levester asked TM to promise that when she got home that evening, to get immediately on her phone and start calling everyone who is spreading, "the word around town", and straighten them out. She promised she would.
"Ok", Hogshaw uttered, "let's get back to business but the evening was just getting started and there's very little decorum at Possum Lodge.
A new rest room was just built in the old town hall last summer, but since there never was any water hooked up to the building before, they asked for and were given permission to tap into the waterline of the church across the dirt road. Being that it's borrowed water, sometimes the water doesn't work as well as it should, but then sometimes it works very well.
After a while, Levester got up to use the rest room. He was in there for several minutes when Clayton, a town board member, called to him and jokingly asked if he was ok or if we needed to call for an EMT. Clayton looked at Kermon, who had come late to observe the meeting, sitting next to me and said, "Oh, we have an EMT on premises."
Kermon quickly responded, "I'm off duty".
"I can't get the toilet to flush", Levester called through the door, then we all heard clanking and tinkering sounds coming from the rest room. He came out shortly after that and took his seat again.
By this time, I nearly had to excuse myself to go out to my car to laugh uproariously ...but the evening was just getting started and there's very little decorum at Possum Lodge.
Shortly thereafter, Milk Jugg, another board member and a jovial young man, rose from his chair and walked toward the rest room.
"Don't try to flush the toilet, Milk", Levester called after him.
"I'll be fine", replied Milk. These people are very basic.
Clink. Clank. Clink. Clink. There were all those tinkering sounds again, then the door opened and Milk Jugg appeared, smiling in the doorway. "Anyone got a screw driver? I can fix it if I have a screw driver", he informed.
Hogshaw tossed a pocket multi-tool to him and wished him luck.
As Hogshaw attempted to resume the meeting, we continued to hear tinkering sounds coming from the rest room. Then, we heard a very different sound. It was more like glug, glug, glugwoossshhh. The door opened, Milk was standing in the doorway with a surprised look on his wet face. "The water's working now", he told us, wiping his face.
"I gotta work on it some more", stated Hogshaw.
By that time, I was nearly falling out of my chair with laughter, but I wasn't the only one.
At that point, Clayton (probably the most composed among us), called for a line-by-line scrutiny of the budget. That was when I decided I had had enough fun for one evening. As I got up to leave, all the board members were calling out, "good evening", to me. I joking replied that for me to pay admission for next month's meeting, the show better be as good as the one we had that evening.
As I previously said, you just can't make this stuff up.
*The story is true, but names have been changed to protect the town from further embarrassment.
Shari, I attended many town meetings in western Massachusetts, where I reported on them for a country weekly. Sometimes for up to five towns, but my regular beat was three. They are fascinating microcosms of democracy in action, where citizens, not representatives, make law. What a collection of opposites trying to drive the destiny of their town! Sometimes humorous, sometimes disgraceful, but always interesting.
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(16 days 17 hours ago.)