I think "the deterioration of Main Street" is wildly exaggerated, and it peeves me every time I see this chestnut hauled out of the fire. Yes, you can quickly drive down Main and see a For Sale sign here and there.

Walk the street, however, and you'll get a far different picture. I'll bet 90 percent of the storefronts are occupied the excellent new mini-restaurant, Pommes Frite, that opened a week ago. We have an outstanding bike shop, a pizza restaurant that successfully pioneered the air-freighting of custom pizzas, Brid's Closet, a former Chrysler dealership that has survived having its franchise taken away, a number of realtors who are certainly hurting now but are in position for the inevitable turnaround and a number of other small stores that will never be Wal-Marts but that do just fine. Just as the Cornwall butchers and food purveyors and hardware stores of a century ago did.

I don't think we do ourselves any good bemoaning "the death of Main Street." And please spare me "comprehensive committees."

As far as a common good, it's a bit ephemeral. We may all put our pants on one leg at a time but we hardly share the same goals and ideals. Many spend the day just trying to make it to the next. Others have the means to spend their time and money on any frivolity and impulse. We expect our town leaders to do all the work, and make all the right decisions, with no input from us. We have all been convinced that someone will take care of us. The problem is we have been catered to and domesticated by all our conveniences. The big box stores and chains with their filled shelves and shiny floors with no effort on our behalf. The DVR with all our favorite mindless TV shows waiting for us. We are spoiled.
But there are those out there that act with focus on a common goal. Those that would see a vision of their future and act collectively upon it. Those who put the mission ahead of their own comfort and conveniences. Those with a plan. Those people don't live here. Those are the people that keep us up at night. They are our boogie man, the monster under the bed.