Real scandals have replaced judgments passed on "scandalous" behavior. This village ain't so bohemian anymore. It's interesting to observe the changes as they mount. Nothing is static, of course. I think of Yeats and "The Second Coming:" "Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold." I think of entropy, of shower mold. It's sad to see small mom-and-pop stores close, to pass by shuttered restaurants, to palpably perceive these losses weighing on the minds of people as you pass. What do you say when someone dies, besides "I'm sorry?"