I paraphrase. Of course the caller at the contra dances where our little pickup band plays every week likes to punctuate his palaver with the positive version of the headline. Not the negative as I am using it.
But, really, he’s beating a dead horse. A horse who suffocated from overcrowding long ago. Some of us locals on the West side of town call it Mopocalypse, as in the apocalyptic state of Mopac Boulevard, bumper-to-bumper traffic all day and most of the night.
Which is what you will face if you make the mistake of moving here. The good times done rolled and gone. Gone about ten years now. Completely out of sight in the last five. Unless you like loong commutes with uncertain arrival times. California drivers weaving in and out, etc. Beggers—refugees from the Democrat economy elsewhere—with their hands out on every street corner.
Getting the picture? It’s crowded enough without you. Just stay away. Please.