The Ville….

They didn’t have a name for their township… So, they simply referred to it as “The Ville.”

At one point, much green grass separated The Ville from the Big City. Many called that spacious Greenland between, with homes dotted here and there, “Hooterville.”

Upon occasion folks from The Ville went to the Big City to shop. To get there, you had’ta go thru mini-cities within the city. There was Poorville, Crimeville, HippieVille, Up-and-comer-CondoVille… and Marketville.

If you kept your car on the same course driving South, you’d go thru Wineville (also known as “The Plaza”… prounounced “plaaa-zaaah”.) Just beyond Wineville was OldMoneyTown. Then Mediocreville, and finally, ya get far enough South there was Uppityville.

Peeps from The Ville learned all kindsa lessons in their endeavors into these fine towns. The “how to do it” and the “how not to do it.”

They learned to be appreciative of all things, even if they weren’t the biggest, baddest, most recent, most costly items in the State. They’d driven thru Poorville, and in spitea the lacka dental care, three car garages, Hummers, Applebees – they noticed folks there were a happy sort.

The nightly news brought back visions of their drive thru Crimeville. Folks from The Ville learned to appreciate their loved ones more – what with seeing all the young men and women dying violent deaths in Crimeville.

Wineville was a nice place to visit, but they didn’t wanna live there. OldMoneyTown just wasn’t them either, even though many worked hard to put away for down the line. Condoville folks were cool – but it conjured up dreams of nothing but concrete – so they stayed in The Ville.

The went to events, dining joints, work after hours outings in Uppityville. Lotta good folks there, many that do $o much for charitable organizations. But too, they noted the Uppityville folk, many, just didn’t want much to do with anyone from The Ville, let alone from Poorville.

“We need a town meeting” ole Hoot Gibson said. “That green, green grass of Hooterville is shriveling up what with all the buildin’ going on around here… pretty soon we’ll be gobbled up by the Big City, or Crimeville.”

“Right on Hoot” hollered Mable, the organist at the local church, “we gotta plan our course for our kids, our kid’s kids… and even for ourselves.”

So one Monday night they met. Whole town. Well, ceptin’ for Sally and Marie. You see, they’d been laid up from an auto accident, wanted to be there, but couldn’t.

“First step of business” Mayor Fluteson spouted “is we gotta do something for our loved ones that can’t be here.” They passed the hat, ole Babs grabbed it, promised to buy each a feast – and give ‘em the change leftover for any other pressing need that might arise. (She’d witnessed the troubles they’d had on improper use of funds in their own school district, and as the put the hat on her lap she said “I promise to showya the receipts, I won’t do like that Fancyville administrator did, I love you folks too much.”

So, they finally go to the debate of a formal name for The Ville. “How ‘bout Suburbville?” builder Ferguson chimed in with… “Nah… there’s plenty towns with names like that..” Cricket shot out, “but keep them ideas a comin’ Mr. Ferguson.

Ole Art liked to imbibe occasionally, and tella joke even more frequently.. “Why don’t we take somea the aspects of some in those other places? We can call our town GossipVille!”… Now they knew he was’a teasin’… still, Munson the barber threw in “Now Art, you know we learned at the last Town Hall meeting ‘don’t dwell on the negative.. if you see something in another you don’t like, then concentrate on the things about them you do like, and let the others go.’ “… “Yeah, you’re right Muns’, I was kinda joshin anyways” answered Art…

“I don’t know about a name” school teach Jennings muttered, “but I do know this is a wonderful town. People come to the aid of others. People have fun, and that can be inexpensive fun. We watchout for our neighbors, our friends (and their children).. we take care of our elderly… but I can’t put it all together and think of a name” as she scratched her head.

“I’m with you Ms. Jennings” farmer Petty said.. “this is such a wonderful town.. we’re very glad that we have new neighbors inching toward our city.. yet we want to keep the uniqueness we’ve forever known. You know, kinda like Andy and Barney, Floyd and all them.”

“May I say something?” Mr. Tucker the City worker said as he raised his hand and stood simultaneously.. “Sure” the Mayor answered “you’ve got the floor sir.”

“Thanks Mayor. I just had a thought. We’ve learned from all of those around us, and from ourselves. We’ve seen destruction, abduction, robbing the kitty, those that have everything in the world they want – except happiness.. we’ve seen fast paced.. “ Tucker continued.. “from all I can see.. we’re all simply happy and blessed for what we have, so we choose happy. I’d like to nominate “Happyville” as our new town name.”

“Great idea Tuck’” Hoot shouted out. “Darn right!” Cricket let go with… “Don’t worry, be HappyVille!” Art chirped between hiccups… they were smitten with the name. A few weeks later, they planted a Hollywood sized sign of letters at their doorstep, inscribed H A P P Y V I L L E.

These folks in the old Ville didn’t need much.. They’d seen’a lotta choices chaps in them other burgs made – and they chose to simply be happy. Old fashion values tucked in between modern technology. All they needed was life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Happyville it is Tuck, Happyville it is. Love, Victurd.