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Do you know what you get if you look up “small town” in the dictionary? Probably the definition, but that doesn’t lend itself as easily to charming platitudes, so we’re going to say, you’ll get a picture of Sheridan.
That’s right, we’re the epitome of Americana: not a whole lot of people, friendly neighbors, great views, welcoming atmospheres, deep dark secrets that could shatter the social fabric of not just Sheridan but possibly the whole of Wyoming, cows.
With the good you take the bad, though. We love the small-town feel of Sheridan, but it doesn’t leave too deep a comedic well from which to fish. Said one Sheridan resident, “Well it’s a bit different with other towns, isn’t it? In New York you have political satire, in Portland you have the whole ‘Keep it Weird’ vibe and in Sheridan you have parking lots. ‘Oh, look! That one’s being repaved! Ain’t that a rib-tickler.'”
But we’re optimists and firm believers in the old adage, “When life gives you traditionally unfunny scenarios, you squeeze as much situational humor as humanly possible out of them.” Brevity is indeed the soul of wit, and what’s more brief than a parking lot? You say you don’t see the connection? We say you don’t read enough Shakespeare.
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