Monday 21st September 2009 - Chance Meetings and a Special Honor.

          I have tried to avoid the Interstates as much as possible, so as to enjoy the scenery and the peace and quiet more.  But for most of the road from Glasgow VA to Glasgow WV they've built the Interstate along the same road as the old US highway; probably because it's so hilly, and there aren't any other choices.

          I also hoped this strategy would make it easier to eat at 'Mom and Pop' Diners along the way, but I never found any.  So imagine my surprise when I turn off the Interstate at Low Moor, and almost the first thing I see is a shiny, traditionally built Diner.  Although it is actually hugely bigger, they try to give the impression that it's been built out of an old railroad car.  And I get a traditional American breakfast.

 

          When I get to Glasgow, I decide to have a look at the local library, but it's not open today.  As I go to leave, I see a sign saying "Reserved for the Mayor", and as I'm looking, someone parks there.  "You must be the Mayor", I say, being obvious, and he says "Only privilege I get". 

          The Council is meeting tonight.  I'm invited to be there.   As I head off to Charleston to check in, I see a Glasgow Police car.

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          At the council meeting, I made my little presentation to the Mayor

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and the council proclaimed me an Honorary Citizen.

 

          Glasgow has a population of just under 800, but it has a budget now in excess of a million dollars.  It has three policemen, one of whom is sitting beside me.  I shall never get comfortable sitting beside someone wearing a gun.

          It really is very pleasing to see a small council at work.  When they are discussing problems, they all know all the people involved.  One of the councillors raised the question of a light out in the park, and started talking to one of the staff sitting at the back.  I got the feeling that he was not only responsible for fixing the lamp, he was actually going to do it.

         

          Later that night, I discovered that the bars in Charleston shut at ten o'clock.  I remember when I was a child, the bars in Glasgow (Scotland, that is) shut at 9.30.  That may sound bad, but the bars in Paisley, next door, shut at 9.00.  So, between 9.00 and 9.30, the road between Paisley and Glasgow, which I lived near, was best avoided.  The drink-driving laws in those days were, like the Montana speed limit used to be, of a 'non-numeric' nature.