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Recession-Proofing Your Charming Little Resort Town

Salida, home of the Commune Sleepover Camp, was the kind of place where the salons advertised, in placards on the sidewalk, "hair massages."  I've often wondered what that meant.  I've heard of scalp massages, okay, but it sounds as if a "hair massage" involves the therapeutic manipulation of a ponytail, which is nothing I'd be interested in paying for.

Salida is also an extraordinarily dog-friendly town; and I mean real dogs--golden retrievers and chocolate labs and other big friendly bounders who wouldn't fit in a purse.  The locals walked their dogs in the Arkansas River, took them along on hikes, and perched them in their fishing boats.  Most of the cafes and internet cafes kept canisters of dog treats on the counter, the likes of which I haven't seen since Julie The NephewsMama worked as a bank teller at the drive-through window, and it was company protocol to load the basket with lollipops for kids, Milk Bones for dogs, and ridiculous ATM fees for customers.

That's all fantastic, even if these practices made all of Salida smell like wet dog at times; it gets away with it, though, by looking like this:

If your little town can pull this off, you can pretty much smell however you want, and base your entire economy on hair massages:  You're fairly recession-proof.

springtime in the rockies at:  mbe@drinktothelasses.com

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