pastimes

"Have you guys seen BJ?" asked David.

"Yeah, he's in his room. Just knock," I suggested. I saw David hesitate outside the crayola-graffittied door.

"He's probably playing video games," I said. "Well either that or..."

Brian whistled suggestively to finish my sentence.

"Wow," marveled David. "BJ and I really DO like all the same things."

taste

Brian made a party music mix for the Evolution party that struck a fine balance of melody & rhythm, funky more indie tunes mixed with familiar sing-along songs for drunks.

We let the set list replay during Saturday brunch, while everyone sprawled lazily around our basement on the makeshift post-party dining area.

"You know Brian," I said, "you have great taste in music, for someone who likes Channel 101 [obnoxious-trippy internet comedy shows]."

"You know April," he returned, "that compliment on taste means a lot coming from someone who wears feather boas."

.......

I wore them as part of my Evolution scales & feathers costume, which was also slated to include fire-breathing until I remembered Grammy's birthday warning: "I'm glad you like the boa. I just... well... I removed a tag, but... where you live... what your sister's said about the house... I know it suits you... well... just... DON'TWEARITNEAROPENFLAMES!"

auf wiedersehen, lisel

Lisa is a wonderful intermittent Haymarketeer, although I am probably biased toward anyone who wants to write a musical on psychedelic cats for performance on Lauren & Corrigan's joint birthday.

She cooked up tonight's little fiesta, themed Evolution, as a farewell until her springtime german (re)invasion.

Apparently, evolved people enjoy cans of PBR and Special Export at a faster rate than Miller High Life (the champagne of beers), which is the sole remaining lager...

tenure

Corrigan's discussion about shaping the future of Q as a co-op wandered into the questions of community involvement.

Although service projects have been introduced as a pleasing vague concept, concerns about selection of specific projects arose in parallel. Projects completed, time and money donated in the name of Q, speak to the neighborhood ostensibly on behalf of the interests and values of Q members. How do we choose a project of any impact that encompasses (or at least acknowledges) the diverse positions of our membership? And what about members who prefer we not make such statements at all?

Bernard, once attending a board meeting at which these concerns were articulated, responded, "I think your resistance is to a very narrow definition of community service."

Personally, I feel a few service projects a year recruiting volunteers from our organization does not bind any disinterested members into obligatory statements of personal politics. In fact collaborative community outreach happens informally all the time, as those of us invite our extended co-op family into our activities and friendships outside the walls of our three houses. BJ and Lisa attended David's sermon. Lauren suggested I present bookbinding to her public middle school students. Crystal introduced her tutoring student, a young woman with FAS, to Megan, who befriended the girl and taught her guitar.

Some folks argue that service projects formally sponsored by the board present different implications. Others reply that social responsibility to emphasize community is inherent to the co-op or IC system.

The compromise is to form a Service Project/Community Committee made (hopefully) of non-board members to research, organize and advertise semi-annual projects for interested co-opers. Whether people volunteer is another story; we originally WERE an extremely neighborhood-involved co-op. Everyone likes the notion of volunteer work, but who has the time, eh? Yet how the heck ELSE will we get to know our HP comrades?

......

When someone's bike scratched a six-inch line into the paint of our neighbors' new Yukon this summer, the classic neighborly dispute was compounded by the ideological divide between Haymarket and the retired Ames couple.

In one corner, they were driving a new polluting eco-nightmare purchased to replace their former gas-guzzling eco-nightmare (which apparently was donated to their grandson, who shall doubtless rise to the challenge of hotboxing a vehicle the size of a football stadium).

In another corner, we are a group of weirdos who chat loudly on the porch about sex and organic vegetables, and who don't seem to give a damn about the aesthetics of our garage door whose crumbles aren't quite charming enough to euphamistically qualify as antique-chic.

Plus the faces are ever-rotating, any friendly hellos in new accents with every successive season.

In the end, the incident provided an opening for dialogue with the Ames', who in fact signed the original petition to allow our home to become Haymarket 15 years ago. Then, members were heavily involved in the Co-Op Markets & neighborhood meetings. The Ames' knew everyone by name. Now we are simply the crazy kids next door... two of whom brought a check for repairing the beast of a truck. Since Corrigan's name is so weird, I suppose, Mrs Ames latched onto Megan, who mentioned puzzles at random during a conversation. Since then, we've found bags of puzzles left on the house porch, addressed to Megan... who has also moved away by now.

......

To those of us living in Haymarket, the time is thick with adventure and the community tight-knit. Even a few months in the house either seems to coincide with or initiate significant change for all who live here; we don't think of our time as fleeting. But our membership is relatively short term.

BJ spoke up at the meeting, thoughful. "I'm not sayin' this isn't a good idea to get involved. But I wonder how realistic it is to believe our involvement can get very complex when we have such a volatile high turnover membership. Like, how worth it is it for a 40-year-old with two kids to reach out to folks who will be leavin' within a year or two?"

He paused. "After the first round of livin' here, you resist gettin' too attached again. It's hard."

I thought of Eli's recent questions: How are the new people integrating? Who is BJ closest to these days? And I answered about my new housemates but couldn't speak as to who BJ socializes with most, perhaps because he is protecting himself from socializing too much with anyone.

Resistance to social codependency does not produce a bad housemate. BJ is the opposite: a respectful listener and thoughtful friend to us all.

But there is a reason that Ed moved out before this year's major turnover, which would have marked his fourth shift in majority of housemates. There is a reason there are tensions and stresses as everyone defines their space and fits her lifestyle into the people puzzle of quirks, neuroses, and strengths. In this plaid pattern of personalities, it takes time and some awkward moments, to achieve balance... and balance then tips as we watch someone drive away and hang our next welcome sign.

We are relatively high turnover co-op. Whether we're deciding the relative worth of community service legacy, or determining how to respond to an imposing request of a new member, the questions are fated to be asked but never easily answered. Collective memory being so short term means we lose grasp of answers forged before us, but at least each generation gets an opportunity to try and hammer it out ourselves. This is the beautiful, brave, chaotic co-op spirit.

occam & me

** Kurt, you are forewarned. This entry deals with hippie hygiene. Mine.**

Tonight Brian was flipped upside down on the rocking seat while we chatted.

"Hey did you shave your armpits?!" he suddenly asked.

I laughed at his acute sense of observation; razor action is a rare enough happening, although I had vowed to return to the habit. Pheromones were overpowering my righteous indignance at the frivolity & belittling aesthetics of the so-called beauty industry. As I am not trying to attract a mate, I have no need for hormone-laced fuzz & dusted off my unopened blades to re-introduce my underarm skin to the autumn air.

"Shaving is just obvious when you have a conversation upside down," he explained. (However as this was our first upside down conversation, logic dictates he's observed my underarms while right side up.) "And I was thinking it is funny how women don't shave their armpits and that breaks the norm, and I do shave mine which breaks another norm."

Lisa, Arianna and I oohed and aahhed as he pulled up his work shirt sleeve to show his trimmed crop; the scene was undeniably co-op.

What Brian did not detect was that, going all out today, I also wore the Tom's lavender deodorant he gave me right after moving into the house. That's what new friends are for: organic deodorants.