Good morning, Whitewater
The calendar is particularly blank, for our small town. Here’s a screenshot, as confirmation —
That’s a joke, of course — there are thousands of calendars in Whitewater, on walls, in phones, in notebooks, and desks, just filled with reminders for meetings, calls, occasions great or small, for work or play. Thousands.
The emptiness of the city calendar hinders none of that; if anything, an empty city calendar is a happy calendar, for so many (many thousands) who need no guidance from those on the city’s payroll. If there were no public meetings in the city, life would go on here. By contrast, if there were no private gatherings in the city, life would be unrecognizably arid.
It’s a conceit — and a particularly laughable one — that some in the city once described their motivations as the search for civil discourse; having so little understating of civil society — private, productive, and spontaneous beyond any government activity — they’re ignorant and unqualified to venture a compelling opinion.
There were workers in the former Soviet Union who did more, with less, than the white-collar leaders of our municipal building. If anyone in Whitewater possibly believes that the most important — or most productive — work in the city takes place within the walls of 312 W. Whitewater Street, then he’s too foolish to be believed on any matter.