I WROTE before about the poultry vendor in my area where personal, retro-commerce prevails. It’s not the same since my favorite counterman, Bill, died. It will never be quite the same. But I am loyal to my people unto death. Love is synchrony, the movement through time together. It thrives on routine. The owner of the stand may be sick of saying, “What can we get for you today, Mrs. Wood?” but he will say it many more times.
There is a new picture of a chicken up behind the counter and a quote:
I dream of a world where a chicken can cross the road without his motives being questioned.