DOOLEY: It's great here, but don't come back
Mount Pleasant is an absolutely wonderful place in the summertime, but to those who have left: please don’t rush back to check it out.
The fairly pleasant flatlands are so great in the summer because you’re not here. I know this sounds like an insult, and in many ways it is, but hear me out.
I haven’t heard a single Top 40 reggaeton/yelling guy song on a jacked system loud enough to shake my entire neighborhood since the weekend classes ended. "Shots" hasn't been blasted through tinny, blown-out speakers at a volume loud enough to cause my leg to twitch. Not a single time.
I haven’t been woken up at three in the morning by dubstep. Not once. There is the unfortunate occasional house being demolished at 8 a.m., but I take comfort in knowing that these renovations greatly reduce our Greek community's potential exposure to asbestos and black mold.
I cannot tell you how nice it is to ride my bicycle in the street, any street, without fear of being run down by a girl tanned to the color of jerky in a $70,000 German sedan. I play soccer in nearly abandoned parks, I swim in rivers empty of the usual tetanus mines of rusted out beer cans and I drink coffee in deserted cafes.
The supermarket is barren, no longer teeming with people shouting debates about the relative merits of Cool Ranch versus Nacho Cheese Doritos. The bottle return is always available instead of looking like the waiting room at a Secretary of State branch. The library bathrooms no longer resemble Baghdad in 2003.
Basically, almost everything about Mount Pleasant is wonderful, but please take my word for it.
The strange paradox of the wonder of Mount P in the summer is that the more people who rush back to enjoy it, the less wonderful it becomes. I'm somewhat sad to report that I have accepted a job back in my hometown, and my plans to stay up here for the rest of the summer have been foiled.
Interestingly, my departure will only make Isabella County a better place for all remaining residents and CMU students. There will be less shouting and kerfuffle, and one less idiot on a road bike slowing everyone down on Main Street.
Though generally not true (boats, nachos and appendages are strong examples of the counterpoint), sometimes less is more.
