Member-only story
No Other Choice
It really is a scary time to be alive.
But certainly, that’s a relative statement. I mean, I’m sitting here typing, worrying about the loss of American civil rights… not worrying about searching for food or water or wondering if I’ll be blown up or shot at. That statement alone says a ton about the level of privilege and good fortune I have.
Don’t get me wrong- I’m in the working poor category as far as single American parents go. I made $27,000 last year because of a substantial raise (with health care assistance, FoodShare, and pandemic protections, let’s say I hit the $40k mark) and just barely got by because of where I live- a super rural northern Wisconsin town. We know we lead a fragile existence. We know that, while the locals sustain us through the hard times, we cannot afford to outwardly alienate those who provide us the bulk of our living. Tourists. Tourists from ‘blue’ cities. And it’s a very ‘red’ region.
If a businessperson up here depends on their brick-and-mortar business to make a living, they will be smart and zip their lip. In general, we don’t really want to put a spotlight on anything here, unless it’s a tale of the biggest fish or deer camp success. Or maybe the whimsical- have you been to the wood tick races at Oxbo or the concrete park down in Phillips??