Plymouth Troll Colony Blather Archives

07/17/2001 On The Rocks

Route 3 from Plymouth to Duxbury has been a shooting gallery for nitwits with air rifles lately. You've all heard about the bus that had its window blown out and the subsequent apprehension of a man who suffers from the Peter Pan syndrome. The attacks reportedly continue sporadically.

I'm concerned about a side issue which seems to be overlooked by the press. The incidents reported have in many cases eventually proven to be not hostile attacks at all, but rocks kicked up by traffic nearby. In fact, more rocks have been flying about lately than any time period I can recall. Where do all the rocks come from? As far as I know, nobody is looking into the source of all the rocks. Maybe they came from meteorites. Maybe kids are sneaking onto Route 3 and strewing rocks all over it in the middle of the night. Maybe the glass companies are paying them to do it. Maybe there have been abnormally high tides and all the rocks washed up on the roadway. Maybe.

Or maybe it has something to do with trucks. You know, those trucks that make the Big Dig run. The ones that blow by you at six in the morning when you are already doing eighty in light traffic. Even when you're half asleep, you know there's a gravel truck around when your windshield begins pitting and you hear the sandblasting noises coming from your radiator and hood. Maybe the trucks have something to do with all the rocks. I would imagine the insurance companies should be irritated with all the glass replacement lately. Maybe they should investigate whether the trucks are spreading all the rocks on the highway. Maybe they should make them pay for all the claims for broken glass. Nah. What am I thinking? They don't care. They'll just charge us more for comprehensive insurance next time. Maybe I should have my head examined.

02/23/2001 On Salmon and Our Environment

You've undoubtedly read about the escape of 100,000 farm-raised salmon from their cages off the coast of Maine during a recent Atlantic storm. The environmentalists are beside themselves worrying about these 'tame' salmon mixing with the few remaining 'wild' salmon and breeding inferior offspring, resulting in a weakening of the species . It probably went something like this when the finny inmates made their break:

"Whew! Free at last! Sal, do you know how close we were to being netted for the next delivery to the Boston fish pier?"
"Forget about it, Manny. Let's just put some leagues between us and the coastline. No free lunch from now on, so we gotta find our way to the feeding grounds off Newfoundland."
"Yeah, but, Sal, I'm kinda out of shape. Not much exercise being penned in like that. Besides, I'd really like to find a nice looking female for a little, you know, companionship. Hey! There's one over there!"
"That's a haddock, you moron! Hey, Haddie, you haven't seen any female salmon swimming around, have you? We've been in stir and they kept the girls in separate pens."
"You aren't going to find any around here, boys. This time of year they all run up the Penobscot or the Saco to breed. Not much chance that you two fatties will have any success in that area."
"Sal, let's give it a shot! What's the worst that could happen? We get shot down?"
"Netted, eaten by bears, or caught in a weir is more likely. Ah, what the hell, you only live once. Let's do it."

I'm rooting for the escapees. If we can release into our population high school graduates who can't make change, why worry about a few fish?

02/22/2001 On Why Plymouth Needs a Mayor

You probably are thinking: Here we go again. He'll say, " We're too big for Town Meeting legislation. They're all nitwits or stooges for the unions! The Selectrolls really don't have a clue and hate out-of-town business interests (Ours! Plymouth is all Ours!). The Town Manager is a puppet on a string. Look at Weymouth. They have a shiny new mayor and they're happy, even though he torpedoed their plans to turn the Naval Air Station into the Mall of America, East Coast Edition. "

Well, those are all valid arguments, I must admit. Still, there is a much more important reason to have a mayor. Pomp and Ceremony! Where is the Pomp and Ceremony in Plymouth? Look, I don't know about you, but I'm tired of being embarrassed every time the Honorable Lord Mayor of Plymouth, England makes her (currently a female) annual trek to visit this side of the pond. We have no equivalently ranked dignitary to greet such highly respected guests and hand them a key to the city. Last year we had several Native American Chiefs in the Thanksgiving parade. They must have been miffed that there was no high official here to meet them because they didn't even get out of the cars provided for their transportation. Most of them didn't wear tribal dress. Sure was strange seeing all those cars barreling down the parade route without a clue as to who these people were.

A mayor would be just the remedy we need for these problems. We could build the new mayor an office with all sorts of perks and flags, have a bunch of keys to the city made up, and surround the mayor with a host of political hacks, possibly even a City Council. After all, there's more to being a great city than fiscal responsibility. We all need a good belly laugh occasionally. Just look at Boston!

01/30/2001 On Kayaking

A friend of mine, who shall remain nameless, reported an experience during a river kayaking adventure last summer. It seems that as he was paddling upstream alone, he came upon a pair of nesting swans in an otherwise deserted area. It soon became obvious to him why the river was devoid of other creatures. As he approached, the male swan made straight for him with a great honking and flapping of his eight foot wingspan! Bobby, er my friend, took immediate action. After soiling himself, he pointed his paddle at the irate male as it came thrashing in! The swan hesitated and then stopped a few feet away; still agitated, but noticeably less aggressive. My friend thinks he frightened the swan with the paddle. I prefer to think that the swan got close enough to smell the results of the alarm it caused in my friend and decided to forget the whole thing.

06/12/2000 On Piping Plovers

God bless the Piping Plovers. They have an entire beach to raise their little ones in peaceful bliss. No other creature dare enter their seasonal domain. Neither fox nor family may set one foot on this summertime sanctuary. What? We have problems with teens and kids needing a place to hang out or have fun? To hell with them! The Plovers are protected by Federal mandate. The kids are protected by Janet Reno. Which once again points out the truth in the words: It Takes a Village ...Idiot!

05/01/2000 On Golf Nuts

Soon there will be an influx of golf nuts to the area. These people will spend vast amounts of money to whack a golf ball around the new golf courses soon to be built to accommodate them. There will be a new convention center located nearby to house and feed them (barring any more ill-advised roadblocks thrown up by cranky locals who like to cause mischief).

A great hoard of rich, post-menopausal residents are expected to invade an area called The Pine Hills in the near future. This is located near the magnificent man-made ski area with the interesting pipes jutting out of the hill at odd places. These privileged few will be banned from having children residing with them in their great manors. They are not concerned, since their children are the golf nuts and will visit between rounds. Many wish to also restrict them to a single access road in and out of the area. This is because we envy them and wish to punish them for being wealthy. The Pine Hills will have a private security force and no inferior citizens will be tolerated in the area after dark.