I got your back, Mayor Briggs

Editor's Note: Commedienne Pam Stone writes her column for The Tryon Daily Bulletin twice each month from her office in the "Unabomber Shack" on her Gowensville farm. Want a chance to respond to this column? Go to Pam’s blog at www.tryondailybulletin.com.

When I drove through downtown Landrum in 1987 and saw each store front boarded up, I thought, "Cool. Here's one place that isn't going to turn into Wal-Mart Land anytime soon."

I purchased my farm in 1993 and, having lived in Los Angeles for fifteen years and, before that, in what had been a lovely, pastoral, setting in Georgia which is now utter, urban blight, I embraced small town living and gave thanks every morning for such a heavenly, simple, and quiet place to live. It was important to me to buy a preexisting house. I didn't want to add to development by clearing more trees or littering a lovely hill.

Certainly I understand capitalism. And I understand growth. But I fling my arms around "slow-growth:" the methodical considerations of what best serves our community. I may be quite mistaken but I'm pretty confident that most of us that are either originally from here or have moved here are and were drawn to the Mayberry qualities of faded brick shop fronts, the Stars and Stripes proudly displayed over July 4th and Flag Day, safe, well-lit areas that kids can walk in the evenings with their friends and, blessedly, minimal traffic.

I'm not sure what developers have in mind when they press their point for enormous square footage. Personally, I have no problem driving the 25 miles to Spartanburg.

Hey, that's a big day out! Sometimes I even treat myself to a latte at Barnes and Nobel, and if I'm feeling particularly frisky, I hit TJ Max. I don't want a Home Depot or an endless row of fast food restaurants like those which grace the exit of Columbus. Darrell, at Landrum Hardware, has anything Paul or I need and, if he doesn't, he orders it for us. When I ordered all my kitchen appliances from Carruth Hardware, years ago, I was making that call from Los Angeles.

They don't take credit cards, so they delivered and set up my washer/dryer, dishwasher, fridge and trash compactor and told me I could pay them when I got to town three weeks later. They didn't know me from Adam. If I have ever had a problem, they arrive in, literally, minutes to make any repair. There are three terrific feed/tack shops, The Hare and Hound has superb pub-grub, The Green Onion takes care of my vegetarian diet and Chili Rojo has Dos Equis on draft in frozen mugs.

Now, what more could anyone possibly need.

Call me if you need me, Bob.

How many storage units do we need?

When you live in a small town it's tremendously exciting when a new shop opens. My favorite bit is the dizzy anticipation and the jump-starting of the rumor mill:

"Did you hear what's gonna open next to the Dollar Store in Campobello? A Waffle House!"

"Now, that's not what I heard. I heard it was going to be a Hardee's."

(This is an actual conversation I was involved in, by the way. I don't have cable.)

"Well, the fella that did the grading said it was either going to be a Waffle House or a Subway."

"The guy that I talked to who poured the slab said it was going to be a Hardee's."

"Yeah, but if you look at the way it sits back and how the parking area is being graded, it's just like a Waffle House."

Paul and I were like tots with our noses pressed against the window, waiting for Santa, each time we drove past the area in question. We were dying for it to be a Waffle House.

There is nothing in the world better than a brand, spanking- new, Waffle House before the walls become stained with nicotine and there's so much grease on the menus that a fly has to attempt a landing like a nervous pilot on a storm-tossed aircraft carrier. Honest. I once saw a fly skid across a menu and crash into the saltshaker. It was just like Roller Derby.

So imagine our chagrin when what actually opened was another damned row of Storage Units. For Pete's Sake, how many Storage Units do we need in South Carolina?

Most people just keep all their stuff on their front porch, anyway. If they're particularly self-disciplined, it makes it to the yard and every now and then, it actually sits by the road where they know perfectly well it will never be picked up by anyone.

Don't believe me? Just drive down 14 on the way to Highway 9 and look to your right. There are two toilets that have sat there for years. I've actually grown rather fond of them and it adds a little seasoning when you give out-of-towners directions: "Lake Lure? Sure, go through Landrum, pass Brannon's on your left, pass the twin toilets on your right..."

If these people are thinking of actually moving here I'll add, rather wickedly, "you'll almost be there when you see a dead Chow-Pitbull mix on the left side of the road. It's been there since April. Probably still there. Enjoy your lunch!"
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