There are always going to be tensions in any governmental marriage. Take 874 million really, really ego-driven guys, elect them to something, schmoosh (a political science term of art) them together in some sort of artificial relationship — and be prepared for a battle on the order of a husband and wife discussing the correct way to load the dishwasher or take out the garbage.
Speaking of taking out the garbage, the current reasoned discourse between Hartford-area towns and the Connecticut Resource Recovery Authority and Hate-Filled Political Club and Patronage Hall is a good example of the tension that can develop in a political marriage sanctified by the “regional cooperation” priests.
After months of therapy, things will work out and the garbage trucks and tipping fees and dump sites and stuff will be resolved. But it won’t matter. Some other government relationship will erupt in screaming and throwing china, because that’s the nature of political marriages.
The scars can last far beyond the immediate tensions that caused the problem. Wethersfield’s town motto, “Oldest Town in Connecticut, Despite What Lying, Stupid, Evil Windsor Might Say,” is one example of the tensions lurking in any modern political relationship.
Bridging Differences
Speaking of Wethersfield, there are still hard feelings about its divorce many years ago from Glastonbury. It doesn’t help matters that Glastonbury still celebrates “Freedom From the Wethersfield Despots Day,” marking the anniversary when 15 Glastonbury farmers built 11 different Congregational churches on the east side of the Connecticut River and told Wethersfield that hardworking Glastonbury folk were no longer going to wade across the river every Sunday with Ford Explorers on their shoulders.
As any good marriage counselor would, the state eventually built a bridge across the river between the two towns, prompting the town councils in both communities to issue a joint statement, saying that the separation was “cordial” and they remained good friends who shared custody of the Canada geese who live and poop all around the bridge.
Many arranged marriages between couples separated by bodies of water, such as Wethersfield and Glastonbury, often suffer from the moist strain. Peaks Island, which lives under the benign neglect of Portland, Maine, has made noises in recent years that it would prefer to either be independent, or perhaps throw itself on the tender mercies of Canada.
Killington Wants Out
In a weird sort of a sex-cult thing that exploded a few years back in the Regional Divorce Court of New England, New Hampshire demanded sole custody of Berwick and Kittery, in Vermont, while Killington, Vt., was confessing its love for New Hampshire and its low taxes and cheap booze and wanted a divorce from Vermont, with which it had “irreconcilable differences.”
And who can blame poor Killington. Sure, the town promised to stay married to Vermont, in sickness and in health — but that was only until other Vermont residents proposed that Vermont secede from the union.
Like some sort of jealous mother-in-law, the City Commission of North Lauderdale, Fla., has urged the State of Florida to divorce from itself, splitting into North Florida and South Florida, because the state legislature ignores the towns down south.
And by the way, Dr. Phil is planning to broadcast a few shows in Vermont, which apparently has major relationship problems. The latest: North Bennington and Bennington are talking about divorce. Again.
Laurence D. Cohen is a freelance writer.