Grazing on Downer
When Boris Gokhman of New Land Enterprises began buying up property on Downer in 2006, few guessed that greener pastures weren’t coming. And so it happened, that as I was strolling out of Boswell Books, headed north on Downer, what to my wandering eyes did appear, but a row of empty storefronts filled with sheep a’grazing? I dropped everything and pressed my nose to the window glass to interview one or two. Make that three.
Whoa! My aunt and uncle used to run the largest sheep ranch in the world. Remnants of it are still holding fast in South Dakota. What say you to that?
Sheep #1: Baaaaa.
Sheep #2: We sheep are notably stupid. Ask us to jump off a cliff and we gladly (baaaaa!) will. We’re easy. Baaaaaa. I’m betting you count us at night!
The other thing is, there’s no grass beneath your hooves. Nothing to graze upon. Bummer on Downer. Nary a blade in sight.
Sheep #3: Who are you anyway? I can’t see through this dirty window. Are you some kinda art critic? Baaaaa.
But I can see you. Looks to me like you’re made from a plaster mold or something like that. It’s clear you haven’t any wool, leastwise not three bags full. Who herded you into these storefront windows? The little boy who lives in the lane?
Sheep # 1: We’re not saaaaaying. Baaaaa!
How come you are all so white? I mean, there’s not one black sheep among you. Wouldn’t at least one black sheep have maybe made the herd more diverse?
Sheep #1, 2, and 3: (In chorus): Baaaaa, baaaaa black sheep. Have you any wool? Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Go jump off, a cliff lady.