Do I Really Have to Explain It?

No Olive?

Have you looked at it recently? I mean really had a good look at it? It looks awful.

For a while it seemed to be just fine. It was rolling right along like a gentle stream (or a thundering herd of yaks with dysentery, depending on the day), and we all thought everything was just fine. When it got to looking a little weary, that nice old Slovak lady from down the street would wobble over with a basket full of those prune-filled pastries and pat it on the head. She would mutter something in Slovak, set the pastries down and wobble home. That brightened things right up. That did the trick.

Why wouldn't it?

But somewhere along the time that we had someone in charge who liked showing people the nasty scar from his operation, it started to shake and shimmy when people looked at it. I always thought that the shaking wasn't as bad as the shimmying, but everyone has his or her opinion on such things, I suppose. After a couple of decades of shaking and shimmying, the whole thing would stop for a bit, and then lurch off again, scaring everyone.

Last month, it was seen on a street corner in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Right there, between the smoke shop and the bordello. Was it a bordello? No, I think it was actually another smoke shop. Yeah, right between the two smoke shops. Well, to be accurate, I should say the two boarded-up smoke shops. Ever since smoking was made punishable by death by beheading, the smoke shops have been closing up left and right.

Anyhow.

There it was, crouching down low to the pavement, trying to stick something into one of its veins. It looked like hell, it really did, and I wanted to say something, or try to cheer it up, or sing it a little tune, or buy it a sandwich.

Anything.

It just isn't what it used to be, and no one seems to care. Well, there is a group of people in that one place, just over there – the group that keeps trying to organize a bake sale for its benefit. I think that they care. But not many other people care.

Do you?