PATTI "THE CANARY"

Blogger has been quite willful this morning and really wants to print my post in one paragraph with no line breaks. I have partially whipped it so just forgive any strange characters in my post. Thanks.

No, I am not referring to my melodic singing voice. Those who have been here a while know the only use for my singing voice is for torturer. The Pentagon has me on their speed dial for resistant prisoners. No need for water boarding, just let Patti wail “Proud Mary” for 30 minutes and the strongest beg for mercy.



What I am referring to has it's roots the misconceptions that can arise in a small town that relishes in knowing all there is to know about everyone else. When I first moved here from Florida, I had no idea the amount of time my history would consume the lives of some local residents.
 
They all ready knew all there was to know about the ones who have always lived here. They know their kids, parents, grands and great grands. They know the stories behind all of them. Strengths, weaknesses, moments of pride and those of disgrace are common knowledge.
 
So they were a bit hungry when an old lady, alone, no family with her and no acquaintances in the town, bought that little house on the corner. What a challenge.

I was amazed when I would apply for utilities, bank services, drivers license, property tax payments, insurance and have recognition light up the clerks faces as I gave my name and address. “Oh yes, you are that lady from Florida--- or, didn't you buy from so-n-so?" I was stunned that so many people were aware of me.



I mentioned before about my neat neighbor Mr. C who has been a great help and friend since I moved here. Well I also forgot to mention that he is also pretty much the town information center. He knows where all the bodies are buried.The mystery of Patti plagued him also but he did have access to me and wasn't above interrogation.

One day as we talked over the fence, he mentioned some of the speculation as to why I had moved here. Some theories were flattering, some not so much but I found it all quite amusing.

Then he dropped one of the scenarios on me that totally lit me up. One of the suppositions was that I was in the Witness Protection Program. Oh my, I loved that one and I giggled as I told Mr. C not to necessarily discourage that version. I assured him it wasn't true but to have such excitement attached to a quite ordinary life, was irresistible.

That is when I secretly renamed myself, Patti “the canary “ in the spirit of “Carmine the snake”, “Charles the bug”, “Tony the ant” and now, Patti, the fictional insider who ratted on the mob and sang like a canary at the big trial. Almost believable since Florida is home to a lot of mobsters and I once lived in a busy drug entry part of the state.

Pretty sure he did not encourage that story however for no one seems to run in panic when I start my car in a parking lot. Good chance they are still wondering and since no one local reads my blog, it will probably stay that way.

Have you ever had an interesting if untrue story attached to you?? I promise not to tell.