Atomictumor

Theres all this big mighty talk about getting big mighty businesses into Oak Ridge, like Target, and Aldi (for what its worth).

They throw incentives at these big businesses, like tax abatements or funky financing, they use city resources to get these things off the ground, and they bend over backwards. None of that is necessarilly a bad thing, because big businesses are, well, big, and tend to make money and taxes and good stuff like that.

However, this town apparently doesn’t do anything in the way of fostering small businesses. I’m thinking of some of my favorite places in town, like the Time-Out in Grove Center, or J & M’s butcher shop, or Jefferson Drug Store, or Razzleberry’s Ice Cream Lab. These places lend flavor in town, as well as providing a bit of retail tax and bringing shoppers into locales like that.

In talking with some of the folks who run these joints, I hear the city is at best indifferent, and at worse downright belligerent towards the needs of small businesses. Insanely high deposits for utilities, poorly slow response times for the same utilities, including the police dept (the fire dept in town I’ve never heard anything bad about, to the credit of fire chief Mack Bailey, despite his, uh, dropping the ball with the fireworks everywhere but Scarboro).

The town does have a chamber of commerce, but for small retail that really doesn’t do anything but suck up a $200 fee and provide a plaque (or a sticker on the window). Its for networking, but networking with other business owners isn’t what these people need. It might work well for doctors and lawyers, but for a dude running a deli, or a butcher shop, it ain’t much.

And doctors and lawyers can take care of themselves, thanks. Its the people working 12 hour days to keep their business open and in their name that I respect, and these are the people that Oak Ridge needs to take to heart, because people with that kind of dedication and drive are valuable.

So, what to do?

I’d love to see Oak Ridge really get serious about small business. It’d be bitchin to maybe have a group of officials tasked with fostering and assisting small businesses. It’d be even super bitchin’r to see the city set aside some of that mighty IDB money to trickle down on places opening up in Jackson Square, or Grove Center, or anywhere in town to help set up, and get a business through that first year.

We can get a Target anywhere. Where else can we get a Tank burger, or eat ice cream next to a life sized anatomically correct (trust me, Pigpen’s checked) pig next to the Playhouse?

Poor little Syrup (Syrupy, has she was called, the transgender beta fish) died at some point over the last day or so.

I haven’t told Pigpen yet (he’s spending the night with a friend) or cleaned out the tank yet.  I figure he’ll take it pretty well, tho…

Man, its totally hot.

I forgot (for various reasons, that we don’t need to go into here) to take care of Bos and Eave’s dog at the approprate time, and remembered only after being at work for like 2 hours (in the office, that is).  I wigged, and took a quick break to give the dog a quick break, and on the way back to the car the humidity started making fun of me.

I could see my car, clearly, three rows down, but each step I took only made the car tilt awkwardly for a second and then right itself.  Oddly, it wasn’t particuarly hot (thus negating the first phrase of the post, sorry), but the souplike quality of the atmosphere lent itself to awkward times.  My legs were sweaty, my hair hanging down like a beaten dog by the time I finally got to the car.

Still, I took care of the dog, and then drank a quart of water.

I don’t like oppressive heat.

(dogs fine, btw)

So MastaG and I trekked out to the allergist today, where we learned… nothing.

Seriously.

He said “Looks like contact dermatitis”, which, ironically, is exactly what I told the lady when I made the appointment.  He admitted not knowing much about Henna allergies and PPD sensitivity, and said he’d look it up and call me, but told me that theres not a chance of sensitivity coming from this exposure, which kinda flies against some of the internet reading I’ve done.

So, whatever.  I spent hours on the phone getting the freakin insurance referral set up, because the bums at the peds office suck at things like communicating to patients, and whatnot, and finally got the appt, and learn nothing useful when I get there.  MastaG’s healing nicely, the scar probably won’t be that ugly, and he certainly hasn’t shown any signs that this thing is anything but a case of contact dermatitis.

Not to say that I’m bitching, because I certainly feel much better about things than I did a week ago, and it wasn’t any skin of my back to make a few phone calls and miss a little bit of work.

Summer air is thick
This has seven syllables
Creativity