The Hills Are Alive With the Sound of Amplified Pipes of Pan

The time is nigh for me to bid farewell to Crunchburg. I'll probably be back for more research, and it's good to have found my way around.

There are many things to like about Crunchburg: there are almost no chain stores, there are many good and moderately priced restaurants (some of which serve cheese!), there are lots of used bookstores, you can get around by walking, the ladies are lovely, and I must say, it's pretty gorgeous compared to Cheeseville (I can see the mountains shrouded in mist from my hotel room. I can also see a bowling alley).

I learned a lot about myself on this trip. One is that I don't particularly care for the street performers, and Crunchburg was chockablock with their whimsy. Last night I went out to eat, intending to get something quick 'n' cheesy, and there was some sort of street fair with street musicians near the restaurant I wanted to go to. And they were amplified! It was some kind of down-homey band with sousaphone, clarinet, banjo, and those god-awful new age pipes of pan or whatever they are. The adults were clapping along, and the kids were gaga. So I had to walk another quarter-mile to find a restaurant away from the sound of that music. Who wants whimsy when you're trying to eat?

On the other hand, I got used to seeing ladies in what I call yoga clothes. You know, those long, flowing, fair-traded, earth-toned linen (or is it hemp?) garments. Well, in Crunchburg, they really know how to work those yoga clothes. Even the youngsters! I decided that if they could do it, I can do it. No, I am not planning to change my well-established look. I just think that if I had to, I could.

So two cheers for Crunchburg! I'll be relieved to get back to Cheeseville (or, I should say, Winetown, which is just over the bridge from Cheeseville).