Showdown at the C.A. Corral

There are noises in the air:  the jingle of spurs, the nervous whinny of a horse. Is that the sound of someone adjusting a gun in its holster? Or perhaps just tumbleweed rolling by in the breeze? The air is tense, crackling with animosity.  The Wild West lives again.

Right here, that is.  At the Pre-Submission Community Meeting.

One wonders if those GGP folks knew to expect The Paumier Gang to ride into town.  They might've suspected, but who could truly be ready for that relentless onslaught?  Even Miss Cindy, the Dance-Hall owner, took her best shots.  It was like shooting fish in a barrel.


I can almost hear the heavy footsteps approaching.  "There ain't enough room in this town for the both of us, kid. I designed most of this town, and I don't 'low no competin' nor collaboratin'--you know what I mean?"

In the Western showdowns of old, women and children knew to hide when danger was afoot.  They knew what was coming.  But, our Main Street is deserted for another reason. Long years of apathy brought on by lack of communication, and years of backward-looking management have left our town square barren. To some, that looks mighty tidy. 

So, few people witness this Wild West style of shooting down opponents with differing opinions. They aren't there because they don't know, don't care, don't know why it is important to care.  And that's what makes this sort of behavior possible--rudeness, bullying, selfish behavior--because so few people are watching. If a shootout happens and there are no witnesses, how can we say for sure that it really happened?

No witnesses, no involvement.  To some, that looks might tidy.


I reckon we need a new kind of Sheriff to clean up this town.

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