Everyone has heard of urban legends: alligators in the city sewers and so on. But very few know about suburban legends. Here are some of West Windsor’s own.
The first one is about a fearsome beast that prowls the lonely corridors of the municipal building at night. Even just glancing at it could instantly turn you to stone. We hear about its awesome power in hushed tones at council meetings. Just as you would never touch an alligator, so you must never touch a Fund Balance, least of all accidentally rub it the wrong way. You must constantly offer it taxes and then quickly back away before it can bite your hand off.
Fund Balances have enormous appetites. The more you feed one, the more it demands. And don’t ever let one get the slightest bit hungry. Doing so might rouse the anger of its close friend and protector: our next suburban legend, the Credit Rating.
Credit Ratings know only the first few letters of the alphabet, which they and mayors like to repeat over and over. An especially wondrous and politically powerful mantra consists of the simple phrase, “AAA.” This in fact resembles the contented sigh of a overfed and obese Fund Balance.
You must never let a Credit Rating utter the shorter phrase “AA,” which would portend total disaster to any elected official. Such an omen could mean that the town might have to pay one-tenth of a percent higher interest on borrowed money than otherwise, which would obviously be very serious if not fatal.
Fortunately, despite all the fear-mongering, West Windsor is not in any danger of hearing the dreaded “AA” even if we put our Fund Balance on a strict diet (not to be confused with a Road Diet, still another suburban legend). We have responsible citizens who always pay well over 99 percent of their billed taxes, stable property values, an excellent school system, fast and convenient rail service, and a prime location that arouses the envy of developers, which I shouldn’t have mentioned, of course.
In common with those alligators in the sewers, our suburban legends may make amusing stories for both kids and grownups. But, like our dreams, they fade at daybreak.
John A. Church
West Windsor
