As you look through the June issue, you’ll notice some changes. We’ve changed the layout, added some color, and modified some fonts. Rest assured though, the changes are cosmetic. Our content is the same, just in a new package. We figured it was time for, well, not quite a facelift, but something more like a Botox injection. We’ve had pretty much the same design since ’92, so we were ready for an update.

When we talked about updating the look, we knew we didn’t want anything radically different. We aren’t interested in becoming a different magazine. We have a simple goal: to provide quality editorial and advertising. So, we’ll continue doing just that. You see, some changes are good!

It’s funny to hear myself say that, because usually I say change is bad. In fact, I’m the kind of person who cringes at the thought of change. Last week, I went to a restaurant only to discover that the chef had decided to ax my favorite meal, which was the only reason I went there in the first place. I showed up for Sunday brunch, but there’s no longer a brunch menu. Now, besides the lunch menu, there’s just one strange omelet special served with spicy fries and cooked carrots and broccoli. Who eats ham-potato-asparagus omelets with spicy fries? I was horribly disappointed, and repulsed to boot.

Unfortunately, the brunch debacle came on the heels of another upsetting change. Last weekend, I also went to visit my parents, who still live in the tiny Connecticut town where I grew up. The town boasts three stoplights on Main Street, and one more blinking yellow light on another busy street. Those of us who grew up there know the roads like the backs of our hands. Most of the houses in the center of town are Colonials, and there are more antiques dealers than any other kind of proprietor. It’s the kind of place where nothing changes, everything is quaint, and people like it that way. That was, until hoards of "urban sprawlers" started gobbling up all of the open space in the name of cookie-cutter cul-de-sacs. Now, the roads are clogged with their behemoth SUVs and the fields are lined with their nearly identical gigantic homes. These are the people who favor anything larger—super-size it all, they say.

On the roads, the only thing we used to deal with were the New Yorkers who drive up on weekends to go antiquing. But with the steep rise in numbers of drivers, new stop signs have popped up without notice. I had to slam on the brakes to heed one of those new stop signs; at that point, I looked around and realized I didn’t recognize the area anymore. It was disconcerting to say the least. Sure, there are the pressing issues of inadequate water and sewer lines to handle the developments, and over-crowded classrooms bursting at the seams with new kids. But, it’s the little things that can drive a person insane, right?

On the other hand, sometimes it’s the little things that make all the difference the other direction, too. Despite my animosity toward change, I’ve been rooting for the updates you see in this issue, and I’m happy with the results of our little Botox treatment. Feel free to drop me an e-mail to let me know what you think.

jennifer.huber@circuitcellar.com

Published: June 2003