Remember When Communities Cared

By Mickey Friedman
August 25, 2011

It’s been the best and worst of times for Lenox. Smidley, Crump and Crump’s innovative ad campaign: “Lennoxx: We’re More Than We Were; We’re More Than You Expect; And We’re More Than You Imagine” has borne fruit more quickly than some expected. A recent trip to Bean There, Lenox’s upscale coffee shop, found Town Manager Hartley Happ sharing details with doubter Ralph Spitster, owner of “Gazelles & More Gazelles,” the exclusive Church Street gallery.

“We’ve had seventeen more tourists last week than the same time last year. And even though none of them bought a gazelle,” Happ explained, “the word is that six of them had lunch at Strudel, four bought kites at Flight, three spent the afternoon drinking at The Tavern, while only four of them ended up here accidentally. Abigail Starkfield-Crump told me they went the wrong way on the Turnpike. They were looking for Ye Olde Sturbridge and left in a huff without spending a cent.”

Spitster sneered: “Ye Olde, my ass. Sturbridge charges twenty bucks for their phony blacksmith, and their gristmill was built in 1937. As for Crump and Crump’s eighty grand for an extra n and an extra x …”

“Nobody said rebranding was easy,” Hartley Happ countered. “But we were on a roll, Ralph, until the dead dentist fiasco. Unfortunately I’ve been so busy with Smidley, Crump and Crump, I didn’t get a chance to do damage control.”

Town Manager Happ was referring to the memorial recently built in honor of Dr. Gary Grove located in the Tanglewood parking lot adjacent to Nathaniel Hawthorne’s house. Surprisingly, Spitster and Happ, who disagree vehemently about Smidley, Crump and Crump’s promotional ad campaign, both seem to agree that unfair press coverage is responsible for most of the hostility the slightly oversized commemorative park/picnic area/Hawthorne gift shop and part-time belvedere has garnered.

Ralph Spitster put a supportive hand on Town Manager Happ’s shoulder: “People need perspective, Hartley. I know I do. I spend every waking hour obsessing about how to sell my gazelles. But it’s important to take a moment to think about what’s truly important. I knew the dentist. Gary Grover was my dentist. He was one of those rare dentists who cared more about the man than his mouth. And he loved Nathaniel Hawthorne. All this to-do in the Berkshire Beagle is much too much to-do about nothing.

“Sturgess Panto at the Beagle has nothing better to do than stir up trouble. Did you see his article insinuating that Mary Francis Foster violated her ethical responsibilities as Vice-Chairman of the Nathaniel Hawthorne Historic Tanglewood Parking Lot Subcommittee just because she not only OK’d the monument but wrote that screenplay treatment: ‘The Dentist Died Young.’ I know people in L.A. The five grand the family paid her is chicken feed. And she hasn’t had a hit since Blood Lust Six.

“The thing is, Hartley, Dr. Grover brought the same kind of commitment to his work that I bring to mine. They might all look the same to you but each and every gazelle is special to me.”

“Almost nothing about this job is simple, Ralph. And I’ll deny it if Sturgess Panto asks, but the Grover Memorial was a simple decision for me. It’s hard to accept the fact that sometimes the good die young. For no good reason. I haven’t told anyone but I have sleep apnea. You wouldn’t think it because of the snoring, but it’s a silent killer. And too few people know how deadly it is.

“This was a fitting way to honor someone who fought the good fight, did right by his patients, and left us too soon. And we created something beautiful for Nathaniel Hawthorne, who gets the short end of the stick around here. I’m sick of Edith Wharton this and Herman Melville that. Hawthorne may not have written about sleep apnea but if he had, it would have been beautiful.

“Plus the family paid for everything. You know how rare that is. Someone does something for you – even though you don’t need it – and you never get a bill. That’s worth a lot.”

“Is it big? Yeah. Some people complained to Panto we’re losing twelve primo parking places. Personally, I thought what Donald Deaver said was pretty tacky: ‘Sure, we may not need those spaces if the Boston Symphony’s doing Bruckner, but what about James Taylor? That’s where I park for JT!’

“Truth is we’re losing nine spaces at the most. Some people don’t like the aluminum footpath that leads to the spot where Hawthorne told Melville to stop dropping in without an invitation. But I happen to know that was one of Gary’s favorite spots. And wood rots.

“Abigail Starkfield-Crump is certain we can turn this to our advantage. A measly ten grand and Crump & Crump will launch its new campaign, ‘Remember When Communities Cared: When A Dentist Dies, Lennoxx Cries.’”