Ryan's Journal

Cars in motion are the most sleep inducing environment for me when I'm not behind the wheel. No small surprise that the drive across from Boston to Rochester felt like a couple hours since I wasn't conscious for five of them. Rochester seems like it might have been a pleasant town about fifteen years ago, but now looks to be in transition to a modern ghost town. Signs disappeared from their perches, leaving behind their body outlines of dirt and faded paint. With windows and doors boarded shut, entire buildings fade into a menagerie of dilapidated landscaping. Build a town around one industry, be it gold mining or photography, and be prepared for the boom of the past to turn against its future.

Not that Rochester is a one-hit wonder. Modern portions (cf. multiple Krispy Kreme establishments, at least the same number as in the entire greater Boston area) are juxtaposed against the fading reminders of days gone by. Somebody must be doing something right to attract the donut people. The donut people followed money.

Until the Atkins craze came along and stole sugar and carbohydrates from Wall Street's darling status. Rochester's lesson: be wary of putting all your eggs in one basket. Digital cameras and proteinphilia can change your fortunes in as little as a year.

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