I take pride in my superior intellect, but there is a problem that even I cannot solve. The little village of Strawberry, in which I am a new resident, lies 16 miles to the north of Payson, and mostly uphill. Strawberry is a nice place. The pines are tall and the birds and squirrels seem happy.
The pace is slower. That is, until you drive down to Payson.
Something critically important must be going on in Payson, and the urgency on the weekends seems particularly gripping, but I can't figure out what it is. Maybe some Payson Roundup readers can help me out.
My expert reasoning tells me that there must be many emergencies in Payson. I've wondered how many young women were being rushed to hospitals to give birth, but the Roundup didn't list many new babies on the scene.
Surely, other medical emergencies were in the works, but most folks passing me seemed pretty relaxed. I saw no one applying pressure to a serious open wound, so I was glad for that at least.
I did see one fellow spraying nose drops into his nostrils, passing me at 75 mph, with one hand on the steering wheel and the other administering the spray. That looked serious to me, and I was amazed at the skill. So was the oncoming driver in the northbound lane.
Perhaps certain stores in Payson are running time-critical contests. You know, like the radio, "Be caller number 11 and win free tickets." Only with cars we would have, "Be the first car at the drive-through window and win a free Chicago Dog." (You know, that sounds pretty good actually).
Then I thought, well of course, it must be about fish. We all know that fish has a short shelf life, even if packed on ice. If you knew that fish was fresh every day at the grocers, you would have to rush down the mountain, get the fish, and then rush back up the mountain before it went bad.
Makes perfect sense. But in asking around, I found that most folks up here prefer beef.
Well, as you can see I have a conundrum on my hands. I don't know why I should be content to casually cruise into Payson at the speed limit, when obviously I am missing out on something. So, Roundup readers, please tell me what it is, as I really want to fit in, and I am dying to put the pedal to the metal.
Nick Gravagne, Strawberry