Anarchy in the 'boro

I try to read the letters to the editor in the News and Record everyday - it's a short cut into the concerns and musings of my neighbors. It's often a little painful but in a fun way, like reality tv.

Today, it all paid off. H.G. Miller of Brown Summit wrote in to comment on the Fun Fourth parade, saying:

It was moving to see the vets, the children, and a variety of community-based organizations. I gratefully applauded. They were a fine representation of our community. However, I cannot express my total disappointment over one group. Nothing about them represents our community. They were promoting anarchy and many un-American ideas. Their chants, drums and slogans represent nothing that reflects the community that I have called home all of my life. They followed the trash trucks; they should have been in the trash trucks.

The letter concludes:

I suppose that next year I should expect Nazis, Communists, pedophiles and Islamic fascist groups in the parade.

Oh, H.G., you just have no idea.

During my career at the esteemed Great Harvest Bread Company, I had the opportunity to work with a couple of anarchists who then introduced me to their anarchist friends, many of whom lived at the big house on the corner of Cedar and Friendly, before it was renovated into its current lavender incarnation.

You know what those dirty, despicable anarchists were doing in their communal home?

• gardening (until a group of neo-nazis doused their mini-farm with motor oil)
• fixing up discarded bikes to give to neighborhood kids
• party (seriously, they're not saints...)
  
• living off the copious amounts of usable products the rest of us chuck in the garbage everyday
• (excuse me if I wax a little too poetic but...) imagining that there is a workable way to live other than the one posed by the dominant paradigm which says you go to college, get a career and live an autonomous life with your spouse and 2.5 kids. H.G., I'm not sure that I can think of anything more American than bucking the system in the hopes of improving life. After stealing gold and the sport of mass murder, a new, improved life was the top priority of the pilgrims.
  

I'd like to close this post with a story about a guy named Zack... or maybe Zak... Anyway, Rob and I are the kind of middle-of-the-road people who are considered the wacky couple by our straight-laced friends and the "nerdy, white-bread, dorkey couple" (a direct quote) by our fringy friends. So, one of my bread store anarchist co-worker invites Rob and me to hear her friend Zak perform on the patio of a restaurant; we're a little nervous because we hadn't really spent much time (beyond work) with the anarchist crowd and we were worried our nerdiness would turn them off to us. But never ones to miss a unique life event, we go. Zack is performing audience requested metal hits into a Mr. Mic. His cheap makeup is dripping down his face, carried by beads of sweat. It was divine in its camp. Afterwards, we go with Zack and my co-worker to sing karaoke (I sang I Will Survive, of course, with the group of co-workers who accumulated; Rob is still owes me the performance of Ring of Fire that he promised that night).

Finally, hours later, we're saying our goodnights. Zack hugs us both and says, "Thanks for giving me a chance."

I know, I know - it's a lot of build-up for a simple quote but just sit with it for a while. It's important.