Deerfield Scene One
Driving to the dump has been a part of my life since I moved to South Deerfield in 1990. Every week, nearly, I’ve cobbled together all of my recyclables and trash and made that trip over through the windy cornfields of South Mill Village Road. At the dump, it’s the usual suspects manning the shed. “Hey Wesley,” I yell, and he gives me back a toothy grin. “Yeah, how ya doin’? Throw it all in, go ahead, just throw it all in the compactor.” Wes always has a cigarette going and wears one of an assortment of about two thousand logo’ed baseball caps. He also usually wears something with USMC on it.
On today’s trip I encountered two new guys, both standing next to a Town of Deerfield sanding truck. They looked at eachother and then at me, quizzically. “Gonna need some sand tonight, huh?” I offered. “Are we expecting snow?”
“No snow…ice!” they replied in unison.
Deerfield Scene Two.
Inside the GoNOMAD CAFE, five young women are finishing off their turkey pesto bagel sandwiches. I approach them and have to ask them: Do you watch American Idol, and do you care that the premier is tonight?
The answer was clear: They don’t really care. “I watch it at the beginning,” one girl said. “Just to see the dorky people who are so funny and try to get on.” I guess Cindy and I are pretty square for still watching it, all the way to the finish.
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