Bossy is very into two things. One of those things is history, and the other thing would be complaining about events in history.
This book was a gift from Bossy’s Original Gay because he knows how Bossy likes to rail against ignorant city planning, suburban sprawl, and the lack of reverence for open rural green.
This book, by James Howard Kunstler — who coincidentally Bossy used to stalk when she first founded the country of I Am Bossy and stumbled upon his blog whose name is so crude Bossy couldn’t possibly type the words in succession, except to say it rhymes with Buster-Duck — details how the individualistic immigrant spirit and the coinciding events in history systematically contributed to a United States landscape nearly devoid of functioning towns.
And so every night Bossy likes to curl up with this happy little book it has taken her more than one year to read. This a little glimpse of why. Shall we? Ahem.
A romanticism for popular consumption mixed this new view of the landscape with political idealism and cooked it all up into the dream of Arcadia. Is that wind? Because if that’s wind, Bossy wonders how the ancient tree above her bedroom skylight is still standing. Maybe it’s not wind, maybe it’s the basement sump pump. But democracy itself soon proved problematic when it came to country living. If that’s the sump pump then water is still trickling down the rear basement steps and dumping into the French drain. If that drain overflows, the carpet will be ruined. Northerners could not easily metamorphose from small farmers into country squires. Did Bossy remember to lift those Christmas boxes to an adjacent table or are they sitting on the soon-to-be-saturated carpet, when the French drain overflows? Northerners could not easily metamorphose from small farmers into country squires. Nope, that’s definitely the wind. If that’s the wind it could knock out the power and then the sump pump won’t even work! A New England family could not operate a farm on the scale of a Carolina plantation. If it’s this windy tomorrow there’s no way Bossy wants her son riding in a double-decker bus down the New Jersey Turnpike. A New England family could not operate a farm on the scale of a Carolina plantation. Seriously, it’s not as if Bossy’s son didn’t visit just last weekend. A New England family could not operate a farm on the scale of a Carolina plantation. Even if Bossy’s son and his sister have a date to see the Delightful One’s ballet performance on Saturday. Aww. That is why northerners gravitated first to maritime trade and then to manufacturing when new mechanical inventions made it possible. Wait a minute! Won’t Bossy’s daughter miss an interest meeting if she attends the ballet anyway? The Arcadian ideal had barely established itself in the popular imagination when farming entered a swift decline in New England. Wind. Zzzzzzzzzzzz.