The irony of my unemployment hasn’t been lost on me, in fact it was mostly responsible for the idea of this project. Working on it continues to be a painful reminder of the nature of economic downturns, which is a reason I’ve been avoiding it of late. It’s easy to see your future, or some unwelcome version of it, driving through some of the outlying boom towns. Most seem fated to meth production. Towns like Clallam Bay crumble like so many rotten teeth. Houses have doors shot off, kicked in, ripped off the hinges by a parade of angry customers or dealers and ultimately law enforcement. Even impounded, many counties don’t bother confiscating the properties because of the contamination: apparently for every pound of meth produced there are something like six pounds of toxic waste left to deal with.
So the town seems a victim lighter and a house darker each time I pass through. It’s rare to see people outside, but then it’s rare for me to stop at all. The fact is I don’t care really. But I do care about circling the same figurative bowl. There is a point when all that’s left is carrying out the physical law.
I hesitate to delve into personal circumstance too deeply, I know it’s likely to come across as self important whining. But without doing so, I suppose this log would be of amazingly little use. Can’t wait to look back and chuckle.