A Logan Secret

Here's a Logan secret:  This town has an inferiority complex.  Every where I go, Loganites want me to gush over this town and tell them how fabulous it is.  "Isn't this just the best place!!!!"  "We love it here."  By inference, so should I.   Truthfully, this town is an escape from reality.  I have been wondering if Drake and I have unwittingly time traveled.  I would swear to you that I'm now living in 1962, and it's not just that I saw someone in a turban towel walking around their front yard.  It's the unrepressed cheerfulness in a gee wilikers, golly, gee whiz way.  Everything is freshly scrubbed, ruthlessly ordered, and monotonously homogeneous.  These Loganites are clean living and clean hearted.  I suspect that 'Happiness is a Warm Puppy' is on the bookshelves, and Mr. Ed is on the TV's in this town.  I keep expecting to hear Chubby Checkers singing The Twist.   

I haven't seen so many children since, well, 1962, so sex must be alive and well here.  There are kids everywhere.   This town is overlaid with a soundtrack of high pitched voices that say 'Mom....Mom....Mom' like birds calling.  It's been a pleasure to have kids swirling around, but I know I am in an alternative universe because the concept of 'stranger danger' hasn't penetrated this town.  I was in the Village Inn last week in the bathroom.  Coming out of the stall, there was a little girl, about 10 years old, washing her hands at the only sink.  The papers towels were in this big roll without perforations.  I just tore off a section and handed them to her since it's hard to do with wet hands.  I didn't speak to her because in the metroplex of any major city, if I had spoken, any savvy girl would have immediately left the bathroom as fast as her legs could carry her.  Well, actually, no 10 year old in a metroplex would have been going to the bathroom in a public place ALONE.  Anyway, she not only started talking to me, but stayed and tore off a piece of paper for me and then held the bathroom door for me when we left.  When I said, "Thank you.", she replied, "You're welcome, Ma'am"  See?  1962.

Now, you're probably saying to yourself, "And this is bad?"  Not exactly, but it seems unreal.  It's very relaxing, but also strangling.  I find myself wondering how Loganites handle the seamier sides of life because those sides exist no matter how cheerful you are.    Something to ask about.  Something to find out.  Meanwhile, I'll just see if I can find my saddle shoes, dig out my Kingston trio records, and find my twinsets - then, if I can check my profanity, I'll fit right in.