BY DAN VALENTI

PLANET VALENTI NEWS AND COMMENTARY

(FORTRESS OF SOLITUDE, MONDAY JULY 16, 2018) — The events may be a cuppla-three weeks old, with Wifegate deserving of more attention on THE PLANET, but duty bids comment on an annual duo of delight that its perpetuators insist on continuing.

Recently, the Dalton Lions Club hosted another circus.

How in the name of the 21st century can people still “enjoy” a jejune, almost barbaric spectacle that best belongs in the 19th? With countless other entertainment opportunities for families, why do we still need an anachronistic spectacle associated with hucksterism, fraud, freaks, drifters, and, worst of all, animal cruelty? The tawdry spectacle of a circus, especially the 3rd rate minor league squads that play the hick towns like Dalton, hides a dark core — you know, like Pittsfield’s Fourth of July Parade.

With Beloit-Jones, Sprague Electric, and GE history, Dalton has turned into a “have/have not” bedroom enclave with many new $400,000-$600,000 housing options. The little town doesn’t have enough of the bottom feeders to populate a circus on its own. For that, it dips into the talent pool of Pittsfield.

A weekend circus is rather is like a three-day flu. It arrives suddenly, makes the healthy sick, then departs. As for the sick, they evidently require the stimulation of chained and abused animals to provide a bit of relief from the daily rut. Circuses, you see, have not been immune to the debasing societal changes that have brought Pittsfield and other like towns and cities to their knees. What was even back in the day of THE PLANET‘s “Leave It to Beaver” childhood a shady proposition has seen its low standards plummet to abysmal levels. Circuses, along with the carnivals that prey on the gullible among the stupid and ignorant, do not elevate anyone. Rather, they degrade.

That did not stop the Dalton Lions from making a fast buck at the expense of so much suffering. Yes, Daniel of their den would devour all of them after they rejected our preaching. The same holds true of the Pittsfield 4th parade.

The parade has long outlived its usefulness or need — at least, the nearly $100,000 wasted on this embarrassing event. Fine excuse it is to blow a hundred grand by defending that it only happens once a year (the Parade Committee advertises “$85,000”). Each year, The Committee comes in for plaudits and laudits — from its own members for themselves only, the “Aren’t we great?” people with low self esteem.

Anyone the least bit familiar with the PC (an appropriately acronym) will tell you of its insularity, open and welcoming only of a political, sexual, intellectual, and gender profile that is an acquired taste. The folks who populate the PC, though, have one good quality: Their denominating influence on Peter Marchetti prevented him from becoming mayor, proving the silver lining can be found gilding any cloud, even as one as dark as the PC.

One question that comes up, too, once a year, relates to finances. Why does the parade cost so much? Has their ever been an independent accounting of the monies raised, spent, and given? THE PLANET doesn’t suggest anything untoward or shady. We only know the nature of small-city politics, Barney Fife power, and big-league temptation.

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“She’s a four-eyed cartoon monster on a TV screen. She thinks red is green. She’s a tangerine” — Stevie Wonder, “Too High,” from his Innervisions album.

“OPEN THE WINDOW, AUNT MILLIE.”

LOVE TO ALL.

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