Grumpiest Place in America.

So Reader's Digest, your mom's favorite magazine, is running its second-annual competition to find the Nicest Place in America.

Well, that's nice, I guess.

Of course, it's always a relative thing. We know of small towns with the reputation of being friendly to everyone just like themselves and only like themselves -- heck, Hollywood tells us that every town in the south and middle of America is like that, except for a few outposts of civilization like Austin and Ann Arbor.

And we know that in places like Austin ("Keep Austin Weird"), the scene is very welcoming to those who are weird. Normies, Herberts, Rednecks, MAGA Types, Breeders, Christianists, and Squares need not apply. Otherwise, you can think whatever you like.

So if RD can find places where everybody is nice to everybody, more power to them. I doubt my home state of New York is providing a fertile hunting ground.

Now, if they were looking for the Grumpiest Place in America, we probably would be able to help. From the tip of Chautauqua County in the west to St. Lawrence County in the north, from Montauk in the east to li'l Staten Island in the south, our state is loaded with grouches. Here's my entry from Averageville, New York, as it could be used just about anywhere:

AVERAGEVILLE, NEW YORK: MAD ABOUT BEING MAD

"Never met such miserable people in my life," is how pizzeria sausage manager Tad Masseingale describes his adopted hometown of Averageville, New York, located in Glurch County on the Closed Factory River. "Everyone just stumbles along scowling. I love it."

"The people of Averageville pretty much just mind their own business," says town councilor Jeanie Swayback, "unless they see a really good opportunity to gossip. Assassination of character is one of our major pastimes."

Every day the passersby who bother to leave their run-down houses can be seen sneering along the empty shops downtown, not waving at familiar faces or anyone else. Down at Ptomaine House, a popular greasy spoon diner, there is no conversation except for comments about the lack of cleanliness in the tableware. 

It rains a lot in Averageville, one reason for the town's mood -- and for the town's motto: "Let a Snarl Be Your Umbrella." When a flood hit the town in 2006, no one helped anyone else. When a flood hit the town in 2011, it was every man for himself. When a flood hit the town in 2017, then doubled back and hit the town again, which then sparked off a round of wildfires, people holed up and ignored the sounds of distress around them. "Damn jerks," is how Pastor Harvey Tagg describes the community before slamming the door of the Helpful Shepherd Church in our faces.

"I remember when mean ol' Jack Klooperman got sick, complainin' and cursin' all the time, and then finally died," says professional wheedler Ken Cifer, the town's all-purpose bonehead. "You shoulda seen everyone lined up at the funeral home, impatiently waiting their turn to stick him with pins to make sure he was finally dead."

Crime is a problem in Averageville, because no one bothers to respond to calls for help. Chief of police Alice Snordd could not be reached, as she was said to be asleep at her desk. 

But some people think that Averageville might be starting to get a little nicer. Local wastrel Enrico Smoot explains: "Just the other day the guy next door told me he would be willing to spit on me if I was on fire. That's the nicest thing anyone ever said to me, in this town."

Others think that the character of Averageville will never change. "No matter what, we just hate everyone in this town," says Swayback, "and everyone who comes into town. Which reminds me: Are you leaving soon?"