Tourism

Photo courtesy of DB McNicol

“Chief, why don’t we get one of those shiny new red trucks?”  Bill Bradley asked.  “I mean we spend more time doing repairs on this old thing than we do fighting fires.”

“Good thing we don’t get many fires then,” Chief Adams replied.  “First of all, the town council won’t pay for a new one, and even if they did it wouldn’t be one of those modern appliances you’re talking about?”

“But why?  Surely the town would benefit and be better protected with a state of the art truck.”

“It’s down to image.  Ever since the plant closed back in 91, the town has made more money from sightseers and passing trade than from any other source,” the chief explained.

“I don’t get it,” Bill said with a tone of bewilderment.

“Look at it this way.  We have a town that looks like everything in it belongs in a Norman Rockwell painting.  People come here, in part, to get a glimpse of that nostalgic life.  The council aims to give it to them, cuz folks are fickle, and if we change things they may well stop coming.”

“Okay I can see that.  But you said ‘in part’ that is why folks come.  Why else do they come here then?  We are off the main highway, and not that easy to get to.”

“Well that’s down the the ads we run in the hunting and fishing magazines.  Not only does Paris Lake got great fishing, but it allows husbands to tell their wives, ‘Honey, This year I’m taking you to Paris’.”

 

Padre

 

Sunday Photo Fiction

FOWC with Fandango — Fickle

7 thoughts on “Tourism

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