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18 THE CHRONICLE OF STURBRIDGE COUNTRY LIVINGTHE STURBRIDGE TIMES MAGAZINE

r MUSINGS FROM LONG HILL s

BY RICHARD MURPHY

WHEN BORING IS BETTER

If you’re starting a small business youmayhave somany thingsto worry about that you don’t give much thought to “who” yourbusiness is.

Your business, at least as far as your concerned, is you.Once you’reupand running,however, youmightwant to take

some time to considerwhether you reallywant to yourbusiness tobe you, or whether is should be something separate from you. Inmost cases, this would be a corporation or a limited liability com-pany.

Both forms of business are relatively easy to create and inex-pensive tomaintain. You create the entity by filing formswith theSecretary of State. You keep it going by filing annual reports. Itcosts less than a $1,000.00 a year, mostly in filing and accountingfees, tomaintain.

In exchange, you get someone else to blame if your businessmakes a mistake. For instance, if it’s your business that owns thebuilding where it is located, you won’t be sued if someone slipsand falls on the ice. If your business signs the invoice on your lat-est shipment of supplies, your business, not you, is liable for pay-ing for them.

There are limits, of course. And savvy bankers and lendersrarely loanmoney toa small corporationwithout a guarantee fromyou-know-who.

But combinedwith liability insurance, incorporating yourbusi-ness is a good way to protect yourself and your family. It also pro-vides some flexibility when it comes time to passing the businesson and planning your estate.

And don’t feel so bad about your business not beingyou. After you incorporate, you get beCEO, President, Treasurerand evenChairman of the Board of Directors

LEGALBRIEF

INCORPORATE

M O N T H L Y L E G A L A D V I C E

F O R R E A D E R S O F

T H E S T U R B R I D G E T I M E S M A G A Z I N E

STURBRIDGE ATTORNEY

ROBERT A. GEORGE, ESQ.

The tornado that literally ripped through the region leftmore than downed trees and ruined dwellings. If you don’thave a story to tell, you probably know someone who does.Mine is one of the tamer tales, but I didn’t know it at thetime.

Every morning I get an Accuweather forecast sent to myemail inbox. If there is a weather event expected, updatedalerts are sent through the day. Unfortunately, I am not teth-ered to my computer. Also, I do not have a cell phone con-nected to the Internet. The day of the tornado was to be mydaughter’s graduation from Abby Kelly Foster Charter HighSchool inWorcester.

I kept abreast of the changing weather as best I could andjust before leaving, checked the emails and read all the weatherupdates. They were inconclusive, but did not seem to implythat my route would be in the path of any destruction. Infact, it sounded as if home was more in danger.

So I instructed the daughter not graduating to get into thecar andwe started toward the city. Still a bit apprehensive, theradio was set to the Jordan Levy show on WTAG, as he wasconstantly updating storm information. He and an associatewere comforting voices as we journeyed in.

The sky was getting darker and the rain intermittentlyheavy and light. Our radio guardians were soothing as theykept track of the situation. It was getting worse and in otherplaces, tornadoes had touched down with damage. Still, thewords of the two men did not imply that a twister was aboutto arrive inWorcester.

All of a sudden, as we were driving through the city, the sit-uation changed. The station’s general manager came into thebroadcast booth and ordered both Jordan and his co-hostdown to the cellar. The storm was, so he said, right above

them and the station was going off the air.In the movie, Don’t Drink the Water, Jackie Gleason tells

everyone, that it is no time to panic. When the situationchanges, he tells everyone, it’s time to panic. That’s kind ofhow I felt. I did not display it openly tomy daughter, but with-out the reassuring voice, there was a knot of terror.

A fewminutes later, the station returned to the air. The cri-sis was not over, but the panic was. I picked up my wife andwe went to the graduation. Afterwards, we had a pleasant butuneventful supper at O’Connor’s Restaurant.

All’s well that ends well. Except, it didn’t, or hasn’t. Overthe next day or two, news reports on radio or online detaileddevastation not seen regionally since the tornado that hitWorcester in the early 50s. Granted, the path was not wide,but where it hit, it was brutal.

News reports can only say so much. The day after, I hadbusiness in Southbridge, but could not get there. The traffic,due to the cleanup precluded anything but a trip of hours.When I finally was able to travel down Sturbridge’s MainStreet, my mouth was agape. After a major cleanup, the par-tial trees and wreckage were a shock to see. With the car win-dows open, the air was redolent with the scent of the cuttimber. It smelled as if one had cut down a tree out back withthe chain saw. The smell was stronger though, even at someremove in the car. I reminded myself, I was only seeing whatwas visible from the road.

A trip over to Brimfield andWales was even starker. Treessnapped and roofs gone. As a weather event, it is the worstI’ve seen in my life. The winter last ended was the harshestI’ve experienced living in West Brookfield. It does not com-pare to our recent twister. Remember that ice storm in late

Concludes on page 22

22 THE CHRONICLE OF STURBRIDGE COUNTRY LIVINGTHE STURBRIDGE TIMES MAGAZINE

2008? Even that pales against the tornado.Why is that? My guess is that as bad as some weather

events are, we can at least maintain a feeling of, if not actual,control. Once Jordan was off the air, the helpless aspect wasterror inducing. Also, even being connected to a crediblenews and weather source could only help so much. If thetwister formed and started moving, it could go in whateverdirection it chose. Obviously, the verb to choose is silly. Still,the aspect of randomness emphasized our helplessness.

One can only wonder at the experience of those who suf-fered through the event not merely in theory. Hearteningwas the outpouring of goods and cash from the folks in theregion. Unfortunately, there have been stories of looting.

Most of life flows along, let’s say it, boringly. We get up,go to work and do our jobs routinelymost days. It only takesan afternoon’s excitement to let us appreciate the lovely rutwe are in.

Wishing everyone a dull and happy summer.

Continued from page 18

When boring is better

Green Rainbow Party forms local chapterLessons AvailableViolins, Mandolins, Guitars,Keyboards, Drums and BanjosSales and Service available

We now haveUkeleles

300 EastMain St (Rt. 9)East Brookfield508-867-6600

www.fiddlecenter.com

THEFIDDLECENTER

to job losses. These workers should see their talentsredirected to green industry jobs.

The second piece of the agenda is health care.Though a federal program has passed congress, thedebate is not over, especially as the local version doesnot control costs. The Party supports a Single Payersystem. According to Gus, this has been shown to bethe least expensive method to deliver health care. Italready is in place and working in the military. Theyalso call for the end of penalties on people who donot purchase private coverage. This is position liber-tarians could love.

Third on the list is fair budgets. The goal is to re-arrange priorities so services are provided and not cut,and to see that resources are not wasted on corporatewelfare.

The last issue is peace. With two wars not reallyaccomplishing anything and a new one in Libya, theGreens are for disengagement and a demilitarized for-eign policy. They are concerned that the soldiers andveterans that have borne the brunt of our adventuresnot be shortchanged in the services they need to rein-tegrate back into civilian life.

Do the Greens have a chance to gain a hearing?They do know they are up against an entrenched sys-tem. Why soldier on? As they put it, “We still havean obligation as sane human beings and responsiblecommunity members to work at creating somethingto make our community resilient and put things inplace to help weather the changes.”

If you would like to know more about the localGreen Rainbow Party group, the email is quin-greens@gmail.com.

Continued from page 17

r JULY POEM s

The Seam of WonderBY JEFF CANNON

The thin line of sandy beach covering heartsBorder of sparkling passionHolds worlds together in a universe of worlds

The slight patch separates what flows, from what stands, in timeAnd, what carves space out of mountains of air to form landscapesOf all sizes and shapes to offer round niches of Living room

A soft choice, not hard or splintered, expands to smooth decisionAs leaf or ember, it suspends judgment and travels across separationsJourneys between differencesSlips and slides as children play and like themAmends the rules so the one left out can join in the funAnd the old women knit more dunes from their conversations

From the fiber of each one, the faces of the days form forests of hairBeautiful brown cheeks catch the sunlight and reflect back the gift ofseeing

The old men rinse out from their wishing nets more waterSometimes the old men want to tickle the womenTheir fingers sneak high up the beachLike frisky dogs they scamperWaging their tongues and tails they sweep up dry footprintsTo make room for love notes to balance the ferocity of warsWars do not talk, but take charge of beaches by forceUnlike the natural style of stormy weather that rises to cleanse notconquerReposition the seam tenderly knit to release desire,Green and flexible, revitalized from the settling energies of night,Its fire re-animated splashes a ruckus and from the dry nets plucks afresh wishTo enjoy in the time allotted our dancing breath

The beach changes as lovers on their sides changeThe landscape of thoughts with their sighsAnd in their turning find the round safety of newly blossomed wild rosesAnd in the fullness of plush redness behold the banquet set for worldsBody worlds opening freely the gates of their boundariesSo the dialogue of pleasure can move unimpeded back and forthAs the water splashes like the sunThe sand stretches in arched leaps to catch the clouds, or at least at-tempt to

Reclining upon a blanket under the beach umbrella’s shadeWe become messengers of people and placesWe paint with our words the texture of those lessons that touchedlightly

Or plunged us roughly to the place huge waves held us gaspingFor a second chance before the teachings of deep meaningsCarried us away into Pluto’s abyssYet, mercy prevailed for our bare feet scratch the dunesAs ageless and as limber as the beach

Our warm imprint awakens from the cellar of their sleep, the distanceof daysWe smile as we realize the signature of our witness is not lostThe life of our years that gently marks our faces, paints our looksRemains an old house dreaming

Along the laced skirt rocks turn into neighborhoodsStones into parks with favorite chairs that still fit usHands of warm breezes hot with swinging inhale the emotions of rip-pling wavesShoulders rising to let go of stress exhale the cobwebbed dust of daysThe motion of affection sweeps insides clear of debrisSuddenly we delight in the smooth stones that catch the attention ofour eyesAnd the sharp facets of shells that cause our feet to stumbleAnd by the handling of each, the translating of each electric feelingVibrating from their textured aspects, acknowledge how mysteriouslyEach angled piece weaves together to form us into the splendorOf our alive form and the beautiful face of our name

Accepting all of that we behold our self and invite others intoThe holy of holies of the original person we have retrievedTo better know us, better understand what bent our shouldersAnd ransacked our chest until through age we finally outlived thewoundAnd with our hands of lined wisdom, healed it to better attend to ourchildrenDirectly rather than indirectly through our grandchildren

Like the beach that becomes more familiar with itself, we relax intoour homeIn its place and time we hear all the stories the air and water bringThe sandy dunes save for us to visitWe expand and contract with themMove with the spirit of those powers that sculpt a lifeAnd free it, like the beach is free, to move between bordersLess seriously yet carefullyWithout regret only tenderly back and forth through the seam of won-der