A Greater Barrington

April 21, 2012
By Mickey Friedman

I like knowing where things are. Where the bathrooms are? Where you can find pasta sauce at the Big Y? And I get used to things the way they are.

It’s taken me years to get used to Great Barrington. So I’m a bit unsettled by the fact that Great Barrington is about to become Greater.

I know most people aren’t as neurotic as me. I imagine many of you are chomping at the bit to live in the new and improved version of Barrington.

The signs are everywhere. Greater Food. Greater Shopping. Greater Fun. A Greater Barrington in the Making. I see them when I drive into town. I see them when I go to the Pittsfield Cooperative Bank. I see them when I stand with my “It’s Time To Come Home” sign.

I appreciate the effort that’s gone into this campaign. I know it takes time to come up with a slogan. And it costs money to print signs.

If I wasn’t such a stick-in-the-mud I’d be out there with you. But something’s holding me back. Believe me I have tried. Even in my imagination.

Maybe if I did more contra-dancing. Maybe if I were an elk or a moose. If I were more of a team player. If I still belonged to the food co-op.

Maybe if I wasn’t me, I’d be out there cheering for the Greater Barrington. But ever so quickly I imagine this:

I’m happy as a clam. I’ve got my carrots and kale, my half-dozen everything bagels, angel hair and pasta sauce, and my Big Y Silver Coin Club membership card. And before you know it, I’ve knocked off two birds with one stone. Greater Food and Greater Shopping. If anyone’s ready for Greater Fun, it’s moi.

Then back in my car. And whoops.

Traffic. Major traffic. And there’s no Barrington Fair to blame. Stuck in my car with no air conditioning. Trying to listen to ESPN and all they’re talking about is the New York creepy Yankees.

Five minutes in traffic turns to ten. And I’m watching my Greater Fun heading west. Ten minutes to fifteen. And I’m thinking Greater Fun, my youknowwhat.

Maybe I should have set my alarm clock to four in the morning. Is the Big Y even open at four in the morning? Did I really need that pasta sauce? I could have used ketchup.

Then I remember my ten years of therapy. It dawns on me that it’s a bit grandiose to think this is about me. Or my spaghetti. By minute eighteen, I’m letting go. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Then again. Let the pasta sauce drift away. Away. Far away. And now the angel hair. See it float. Up, up and away. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Through and beyond that cloud. It’s not about you, Mickey. And it’s not about your dinner.

It’s about Great Barrington becoming Greater. See me. Feel me. Heal me.

Twenty minutes in I’m feeling better. It’s as if I see the cracks disappearing from downtown. Sidewalks whole and health

My breathing is deep. There’s a smile on my face. Knowing I’m a small part of something so much bigger than me. Imagining new and spiffy streetlights.

Twenty-two minutes and the lady in the new Infiniti with the New York plates right behind me starts to lose it. She starts honking.

I’m sending her my very best good vibes through the rear window. I know, dear lady. We are all us one. You are me and I am you and we are all together now. A few minutes ago I was selfishly thinking pasta sauce and perhaps you are thinking pedicure. But we can work it out.

All together now. Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Can you see it? Can you feel it?

Greater food. Greater shopping. Greater fun.

Another honk. There’s a touch of sadness to my smile. My dear lady, I’m thinking, remember, each journey starts with a single step. If greater fun was easy, we wouldn’t really appreciate it.

It’s about Great Barrington becoming Greater.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t seem to getting the message. Hand on horn, and then, of course, everyone else joins in. Honking her to let her know there’s no point honking. Honking because five minutes has turned into twenty five.

Sadly my better self evaporates. I am again my lesser self.

Better you and me, I’m never quite ready. I wasn’t ready for the Susan B. Anthony dollar coin. I wasn’t ready for Y2K. And, as my daydream reveals, I’m not ready for the Greater Barrington.

I know people who are always ready. I hope you are ready. Ready for Greater food. Greater shopping. Greater fun. And from the bottom of my heart I wish you a Greater Barrington.