So, you’ve probably heard folks talk about the old clock down in Boiling Springs. Or maybe you haven’t. If you haven’t, well, let me tell you, it’s a whole saga, that thing. I got tangled up in trying to figure it out myself, thought I’d share what I went through.
My Deep Dive into the Clock Fiasco
It all started because, well, I like things to work. And this clock, the centerpiece of the town square, it just… didn’t. Sometimes it was stuck, sometimes it was wildly ahead, sometimes it chimed at 3 AM for no reason. So, I decided, “Alright, let’s see what’s up with this.” Real hands-on, you know?
First, I went to the town council. Figured they’d be the ones. Got a lot of “Hmm, yes, the clock” and “We’re looking into it.” Classic. Then I tried the local historical society. They had plenty of stories about when it was installed, who donated it, all that jazz. But ask them why it’s acting like a moody teenager? Blank stares.
I even tracked down Old Man Hemlock, who supposedly fixed it back in the 70s. He just shook his head and muttered something about “too many cooks” and “newfangled ideas.” It was becoming clear this wasn’t just a broken spring or a rusty gear. This was… complicated.
- One group said it was underfunded.
- Another whispered about a feud between two families who both claimed responsibility for its upkeep.
- Then there was the theory that the last guy who “fixed” it actually made it worse, but nobody wanted to say so.
It felt like peeling an onion, and every layer just brought more tears and no actual onion. They were talking about forming a committee to discuss forming another committee to maybe, possibly, look at getting quotes. You get the picture.
Sounds Familiar, Doesn’t It?
And this whole rigmarole with the clock, it just brought back this memory, crystal clear. Reminded me exactly of when I tried to get that community garden project off the ground a few years back, over in my old neighborhood. Seemed simple, right? Empty lot, bunch of eager neighbors, tools ready. We just needed the city’s okay.
Boy, oh boy. First, it was the zoning department. “Is it residential? Commercial? Recreational?” they’d ask. It’s a garden, for Pete’s sake! Then permits for water access – that was a whole different office, different forms, different waiting period. We filled out paperwork until our hands cramped. We attended meetings that went in circles. We explained the benefits – fresh food, community bonding, making a derelict lot pretty – a thousand times.
People were enthusiastic at first, then they started drifting away. Who can blame them? We were told we needed a soil contamination report (fair enough), then a traffic impact study (for a walking garden?), then an official “neighborhood impact assessment” written by a certified consultant we’d have to hire. Each step was designed to make you just give up. It was like wading through molasses.
We had a Parks Department guy, super nice, who privately told us, “Look, everyone thinks it’s a great idea. But nobody wants to be the one to sign off on something that isn’t already in a pre-approved box.” So, the empty lot? It’s still empty. Probably growing some prize-winning weeds by now, all on its own, no permits required.
So, that clock in Boiling Springs? Last I heard, they were considering a digital display to put in front of the old clock face because getting the original hands to move was “logistically challenging.” Yeah. That about sums it up. Some things just sit there, broken, reminding you that common sense ain’t always so common, and trying to fix ’em just shows you how deep the rabbit hole of “that’s just how it is” can go. I’ve pretty much stopped even looking at it when I pass by. What’s the point?
