I had almost forgotten how a small town works, until today, when I had an urgent need to get some information from a teacher I had studied with many years ago. All I remember is that he moved away, to Sagebrush, which is a very small town about two hours north of the not small town I endure, because it is on the ocean. Arthur, the subject of my search, is a tall, tall man who loves jazz and used to be a force in the jazz society here. He is kind and gracious. Emboldened by my memory of what a thoroughly good person he is, I had a feeling that someone in Sagebrush would surely know if he still lived there and how I could find him, even though I had forgotten his last name. And so, knowing that I was entering small town territory, which is different than not small town territory, I did what seemed to be the obvious: I called the County Sheriff's Office. Deputy Robbins answered. Realizing I might sound like a nut case, I jumped right in. "I am trying to find my former teacher Arthur, who moved up your way about 20 years ago, but I have forgotten his last name. I can tell you that he is very tall, perhaps 6'6" or so, loves jazz, and is a kind and good person. Do you happen to know him?" Deputy Robbins, being a classic small town sheriff, didn't miss a beat. "Oh," he said, "You must be looking for Arthur Blake. Lovely fellow. My grandson is in his Fifth Grade Class over at the elementary school. Here's the number." Small towns. Big hearts.









CREDIT: Photo by Alex taken in The Indigo Refuge in Second Life, with thanks to Designer Gorman Indigo.