For a community of ten thousand people, my city sometimes is such a small town. This was reinforced the other day.

We have a real downtown square, filled with stores, restaurants and service businesses. Our real estate office sits on one corner of the Square. The other day, I was the only person in the office, so I was sitting up front by two walls of windows. I happened to be looking outside when I witnessed a traffic accident. Traffic only moves one way around the Square, and the speed limit is only fifteen miles per hour. Even with these precautions, accidents happen too often on the Square.

A blue truck was backing out of a parking spot when a sedan bounced off its tailgate. Given the fact that the accident happened at less than fifteen miles per hour, neither vehicle even appeared damaged.

About forty-five seconds after the accident happened, a police car pulled up. Personally, I think it was just coincidence; the police station is only three blocks away, and I suspect the officer was just heading back to the station when he happened by. After laughing about the idea that the city was so Mayberry-esque the the police respond to accidents within a minute of impact, I decided to call Luis to share the giggle with him.

At this point, less than three minutes had elapsed since the incredibly minor accident occurred. The police officer never turned on his lights or sirens. As I told Luis about the accident, his response was first to laugh and then tell me that this explained why people were standing on the corner by our house (we live two blocks from the office) talking and pointing at the Square.

Good gravy.

Andy, Aunt Bee is having problems with Opie snitching cookies again, and Barney is raising a ruckus over by the general store by ticketing people driving 18 in a 15 mph zone.

Welcome to Mayber...er...Monroe.