Here in the real world Christmas is finally behind me. Actually, so is Easter. I managed to keep up the tree and Christmas decorations till January 27, my way of saying I hadn't seen enough of friends and family for the Holiday. At Big Gray, Christmas was a special occasion for me as well. From the time Kim crawled out from the attic and hung Christmas lights around our round window at the very top of the house, Christmas has also been a very public celebration .We decorated in our usual anarchistic way, but always managed to end with a beautiful house. Our dining room with its five over sized windows was a cold place in the winter, but on Christmas was transformed into a spacious warm and inviting place to gather and eat.The party was always on Christmas Eve so I could spend Christmas day celebrating with my actual family. Often, I was in the minority of those who both celebrated Christmas and had a family in New York. But at Big Gray, in spite of our association with the feast, we all did Christmas Eve, had a big Christmas tree, and participated in a sit down dinner for as many as 20 plus individuals. I met many brothers, sisters and parents of family members along with scores of friends during those parties. It was always interesting and informative to meet the families of the people I lived with, particularly when family members stayed as two or three day guests. The dinners were crazy affairs, mixed-up and delicious. I learned a lot about cooking for people doing those big Christmas Eve feasts. As many of you know, I am now a private chef and get to both practice my passion for cooking and get paid for it.If you're interested, my daughter Jenn and I are planning a blog on food. If you think I have a lot of opinions about living with people and are still reading this, you'll love (or hate) my opinionated take on food, restaurant reviews, restaurant customers , cooking, eating and life in general.
But back to Big Gray I loved the way our group of Christians , Jews , Atheists and Goddess worshipers managed to put aside our differences and create a joyous, loving celebration . We evolved a Kris Kringle style of gift giving to create some Advent drama. Sometime before the big day, we all picked names out of a hat and became that person's Secret Santa. I enjoyed the bartering sessions after the hat picking , where we secretly exchanged names so as not to have to buy for anyone we currently hated. Then, we would leave small presents for the person of our choice leading to the surprise final gift session after dinner on Christmas Eve. That was fun.
Inevitably, after one of our long Christmas dinners, there would be a feeling of unrest in the room . A chant would silently begin, then fill the house with a crescendo: "Toothpaste, toothpaste, toothpaste! " the crowd would shout,accompanied by the raucous stamping of feet and wild cheers. Then, I would reluctantly rise to my feet and explain that it was time to repeat an ages old tradition at Big Gray. At one of our first parties, I would explain, in order to entertain the guests, Richard (our first Fire Chief) and I enacted three stirring performance pieces.The three were named, "Toothpaste", "Bacon" and the awe inspiring, "One-Armed Janitor".For those readers who saw them only once, they are I know, embedded in your psyches. No further description is necessary. And for those readers who somehow missed Christmas at Big Gray, all I can suggest is invite me over for a big family meal and get me whacked.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Pets, from Aacha to Temes plus Burt , Chelsea and Dylan
When Sam left,I felt detached from life at Big Gray. So much of the daily social interaction for me was among the old warriors of my tribe. Sam had become a trusted friend to Kim and me.While his leaving didn't effect our friendship, it did effect the inner life of the house. I was starting to feel the "communal movement" had past me bye. Increasingly, I felt a strong preference for how things ought to be done. And these were issues much more easily communicated to men of my own age group.. Even my ideas about having fun usually clustered either among certain wild people from Circles or Kim, Sam and me. I was turning into a male version of Carrie Bradshaw. With Sam gone, my connection to Big Gray began moving out too. Nevertheless, as we had many times before, we survivors announced ourselves to the readers of the Village Voice Classified..."Communal house in Bayridge, beautiful 15 room Victorian seeks male , non-smoker". I forget whether we stipulated " no cats", at that time. For a while, we had a "No New Cats" policy in the house. Not that it ever prevented us from taking someone , but it provided a way out of conversations with a potentially creepy person, "Oh! You have a cat? I'm afraid we have an iron clad rule. Too bad! We'll let you know when one of our cats die, ok?"
As far as history goes, I'm up to Bill's Generation. I'm rarely satisfied with my writing, so I guess with the exception of a few, you're all anxious to stop reading.Only, I feel I've only touched the surface of what the experience of 21 years was like for me. I guess I was hoping for a lot more feedback when I started writing But other people have advised me that this is my lonely process to complete. So, in that case, I'm not finished. There are still many details for me that form a more complete picture of life at Big Gray . Part of that picture is the story of the pets of Big Gray. I had never suffered from any strong allergic reactions before living at Big Gray, but Dr. H' daughter who ran an amateur animal shelter at the house laid the seeds of my cat allergies. By allowing cats (especially male, unfixed cats)to freely roam the house, she guaranteed that our baseboards would have a coating of cat spray. Although we painted over these sprays, future generations of cats always seemed to locate them and add their own signatures guaranteeing itchy eyes for me. And yes, for you feline defenders, I also worked in a dusty Manhattan bookstore that might have magnified the problem as well. In spite of this however, there have been members of that unpredictable species who have managed to crack through the tough male exterior I wore and win my heart. Here's their story.
Aacha was Silvia's. She along with The Cat I Killed were one of our original 7 cats. Like the spicy, Puerto Rican beauty who owned her, Aacha was a diminutive Persian with long black fur and a peppery nature. She was really fun to watch when she had her catnip. In contrast, Susan had two hulking overfed monsters who rarely left the third floor except to feed owing to their preference for her bedroom and the spring door which closed off the third floor hallway. Alan had twin Siamese that looked like sickly prison camp survivors. They had access to the rest of the house because he lived in the room off the third floor landing which is outside the third floor hallway door. There was another cat too, but I can't remember its name or who it belonged to. Then, there was the Cripple Family. Ma Cripple was another of Sylvia's cat projects. Like everything else in Sylvia's life, there was an accompanying drama with Ma Cripple, a tiny Siamese whose back legs were useless. She would haul herself up and down the flights of stairs that connected our floors dragging her useless back half behind her.The sight was shocking at first, but then you got used to it and the "thump, thump thump" sound of Ma's back half coming down the stairs became a part of the crazy fabric of our lives. Through some apparently cosmic intervention, she was befriended during what I call the Cat War of 1975, by Pa Cripple, a street cat one of Richard's friends had found. This cat had been terribly abused. It's front claws had been removed, and it was let out in the street- a death warrant for a male cat. He was spooked by any human contact other than from Sylvia. As if he was following some Disney screen script, he took to Ma Cripple and they had a litter before we realize that Ma C was even capable of littering. When their kittens arrived, the Cripples took up residence in the second floor hallway closet. (We used the closet door for some other project) House mates will remember the location of that closet at a key cat juncture in the house situated as it was between the front stairs and the back winding stair case leading down to the kitchen ,and at the foot of the hallway stairs from the third floor where Alan's ugly cats and Susan's monsters lurked. I witnessed Ma and Pa Cripple vigorously defending their tiny family at that now sacred to memory landing. Pa would attack any passing cat with teeth bared and Ma would ambush from the closet lurching herself into battle. Those famous battles ,outside my bedroom door by the way,were memorialized with the erection of the second floor chalkboard, a monument to free speech . Not everyone shared my amusement with the cats. (As the peace chief , I took everyone's side ). Jaime hated the cats, and spoke out against them at house meetings . He especially hated Susan's cats who were among the indoor sprayers. To be truthful, Jaime also had issues with Susan who was not the most fastidious of our membership and whose stone chips cluttered the floor of the front room which she used as a sculpture studio in the winter. That led to spirited debate within the house- a debate that lasted 21 years. Kim, by the way, though he rarely spoke out knew a lot about cats as many of my readers will attest. He could tell many cat stories if he wished.
We also had several of our prominent female wild cats fixed. Among the were Ma Orange, and Ma Black, a big female we inherited from the wild . She wound up with my ex-wife and kids in the suburbs of Connecticut where they lived the year before the kids moved in with me. I remember Jennifer at 5 years old trying to carry her around the house clasped to her chest . She was a good one too.
After that, we seemed to get a break in Cat Karma. Matt brought Larry with him when he moved in. He found him abandoned by his mother, and hand raised him. Because of that,Larry allowed Matt to carry him around and do things with him I've never seen a cat endure. For example, Matt would cradle Larry in his arms upside down while he smacked Larry's face with his tail, or he would hold Larry's two front paws in one hand and his back paws in another. Then, he would extend his hands so that Larry's body hung U- shaped between them.Larry would meow mournfully, but never tried to escape by using aggressive tactics like biting or scratching. Kim told me that was because he considered Matt to be his mother.
Another thing about Larry, he was always one of the guys. At that time, the Big Gray
Men's Club had it's largest membership consisting of Steven, Kim, Matt, John, Michael, the Professor (one of our "extended" family)and me. We usually met in the Library unless warm weather forced us to the backyard. Often, we sat on the floor in a circle for power ceremonies and pots of tea. Larry, if he was around would join us, situating himself in the center of our circle, content to just hang out. If no one was home, he liked to lie on our neighbor's lawn across the street.When he recognized one of our cars turning onto the block, he would race across the street greeting us at the end of the driveway (Barbara, a fierce pet lover, was always afraid one of us would kill him). Often, we would find there the decapitated bodies of mice Larry had hunted down and lined up in formation for our admiration. Matt took him with him when he moved. Ironically, after surviving years of Brooklyn traffic and our driveway, he was killed by a mail truck in a rural area of Maine. He's buried there.
After Larry, we had a few notable cats that lived at Big gray during Dan's tenure. I can't remember all of them by name. Dan and Kristin had one which was fairly unspectacular, and Becky had a little gray cat whose name I can't remember, but who had a great little personality. After Becky went back to England, Kim and Joyce wound up with her. She moved to Pennsylvania with them and lived a good life hunting in the country . Probably the most controversial cat at Big Gray was Kitty, a male Siamese that Joyce owned. He had several annoying habits like pissing in the plants that we had in our dining room, and spraying his noxious signature all over our walls. And like all Siamese, he had that annoying whine most of them make. We had a lot of meetings devoted to dealing with the cats and never were able to stop Kitty from smelling up the house. Joyce was a staunch defender of her cat. I hated him. That's why it was ironic that when Joyce went on vacation one year, she asked me to watch and feed Kitty. I reluctantly agreed since no one else could handle it. Don't you know that little SOB took off the day after Joyce left. I searched everywhere for him, and gave him up for dead in spite of signs we put up all over the neighborhood. Secretly, I was relieved to have this cat issue off the agenda of our meetings. Then, a day before Joyce returned from vacation, someone called us about a cat seen on Shore Road (blocks away from the house) We went to check out the call, and sure enough, it was Kitty. Sam started a rumor that I kicked Kitty out, but Joyce was grateful for the trouble we went through to find him. Then, to make it seem even more suspicious to Sam, a week after Joyce's return, the damn cat ran away again. This time, for good. Sam still asks how I managed to get Kitty to climb into the trunk of my car. "Come on Kitty, we're going to Bensonhurst for a picnic".
Our last cat was Temes who belonged to Bill. He was one of my favorites as he hid under Bill's bed all the time.
As opposed to unpredictable, temperamental cats, there were three predicable, loyal , good time friendly dogs at Big Gray. The first, like many other events and people connected with Big Gray, came to us out of a psychedelic experience. Burt or Bert as some liked to call him, was a scruffy gray and brown mutt with a terrier heritage. He followed Susan home from a walk in our neighborhood while she was tripping. While he was with us, he occasionally got out and wandered the neighbor's yards in search of his favorite meal, garbage. Burt had been a stray and a hobo too long . He needed a change of environment. He needed some land to roam. He wound up, like most of our adopted pets, a great success story. It was Susan and Jackson who found Burt a home on a farm out of state with a lot of space and a big friendly dog pal to roam with.
Our next dog was one of the best experiences I personally have ever had with an animal. Chelsea came to the house with Eddie and Martha. She was a small, pretty dog , a border collie mix with a herding extinct and a tremendous heart for play. I took her for long, long walks along the fields and paths of Shore Road which follows the curve of Long Island at South Brooklyn. On one side, you had the massive Verranzano Bridge, and at the other side of our neighborhood, New York Harbor and the Statue of Liberty. Many times Chelsea and I made that great mile and a half walk where she chased squirrels, ran with other dogs, always singling out the males who were far bigger than she, but unable to match her hair pin swerves in a chase.Chelsea also loved to roll in dead things which she would occasionally find-one of her few unladylike traits.
If I were minding her for Eddie and Martha, I would fill her food bowl in their bedroom on the first and second night. Once she decided Eddie and Martha weren't coming back , she would pad down to my room, and using her head push open the door and lie at the foot of my bed till the day they returned.
Our last dog at Big Gray was the giant, Dylan. He was a Lab mix ( with mastiff blood from the size of him). Dylan, at his advanced age was the most docile dog I've ever known. The cool thing was no one else knew that. When you were walking down the block with him, people would shrink out of the way, afraid Dylan might dispose of them with one bite. He was Vienna's dog, but we all took care of him. Like everything else at Big Gray, boundaries were often blurred.
As far as history goes, I'm up to Bill's Generation. I'm rarely satisfied with my writing, so I guess with the exception of a few, you're all anxious to stop reading.Only, I feel I've only touched the surface of what the experience of 21 years was like for me. I guess I was hoping for a lot more feedback when I started writing But other people have advised me that this is my lonely process to complete. So, in that case, I'm not finished. There are still many details for me that form a more complete picture of life at Big Gray . Part of that picture is the story of the pets of Big Gray. I had never suffered from any strong allergic reactions before living at Big Gray, but Dr. H' daughter who ran an amateur animal shelter at the house laid the seeds of my cat allergies. By allowing cats (especially male, unfixed cats)to freely roam the house, she guaranteed that our baseboards would have a coating of cat spray. Although we painted over these sprays, future generations of cats always seemed to locate them and add their own signatures guaranteeing itchy eyes for me. And yes, for you feline defenders, I also worked in a dusty Manhattan bookstore that might have magnified the problem as well. In spite of this however, there have been members of that unpredictable species who have managed to crack through the tough male exterior I wore and win my heart. Here's their story.
Aacha was Silvia's. She along with The Cat I Killed were one of our original 7 cats. Like the spicy, Puerto Rican beauty who owned her, Aacha was a diminutive Persian with long black fur and a peppery nature. She was really fun to watch when she had her catnip. In contrast, Susan had two hulking overfed monsters who rarely left the third floor except to feed owing to their preference for her bedroom and the spring door which closed off the third floor hallway. Alan had twin Siamese that looked like sickly prison camp survivors. They had access to the rest of the house because he lived in the room off the third floor landing which is outside the third floor hallway door. There was another cat too, but I can't remember its name or who it belonged to. Then, there was the Cripple Family. Ma Cripple was another of Sylvia's cat projects. Like everything else in Sylvia's life, there was an accompanying drama with Ma Cripple, a tiny Siamese whose back legs were useless. She would haul herself up and down the flights of stairs that connected our floors dragging her useless back half behind her.The sight was shocking at first, but then you got used to it and the "thump, thump thump" sound of Ma's back half coming down the stairs became a part of the crazy fabric of our lives. Through some apparently cosmic intervention, she was befriended during what I call the Cat War of 1975, by Pa Cripple, a street cat one of Richard's friends had found. This cat had been terribly abused. It's front claws had been removed, and it was let out in the street- a death warrant for a male cat. He was spooked by any human contact other than from Sylvia. As if he was following some Disney screen script, he took to Ma Cripple and they had a litter before we realize that Ma C was even capable of littering. When their kittens arrived, the Cripples took up residence in the second floor hallway closet. (We used the closet door for some other project) House mates will remember the location of that closet at a key cat juncture in the house situated as it was between the front stairs and the back winding stair case leading down to the kitchen ,and at the foot of the hallway stairs from the third floor where Alan's ugly cats and Susan's monsters lurked. I witnessed Ma and Pa Cripple vigorously defending their tiny family at that now sacred to memory landing. Pa would attack any passing cat with teeth bared and Ma would ambush from the closet lurching herself into battle. Those famous battles ,outside my bedroom door by the way,were memorialized with the erection of the second floor chalkboard, a monument to free speech . Not everyone shared my amusement with the cats. (As the peace chief , I took everyone's side ). Jaime hated the cats, and spoke out against them at house meetings . He especially hated Susan's cats who were among the indoor sprayers. To be truthful, Jaime also had issues with Susan who was not the most fastidious of our membership and whose stone chips cluttered the floor of the front room which she used as a sculpture studio in the winter. That led to spirited debate within the house- a debate that lasted 21 years. Kim, by the way, though he rarely spoke out knew a lot about cats as many of my readers will attest. He could tell many cat stories if he wished.
We also had several of our prominent female wild cats fixed. Among the were Ma Orange, and Ma Black, a big female we inherited from the wild . She wound up with my ex-wife and kids in the suburbs of Connecticut where they lived the year before the kids moved in with me. I remember Jennifer at 5 years old trying to carry her around the house clasped to her chest . She was a good one too.
After that, we seemed to get a break in Cat Karma. Matt brought Larry with him when he moved in. He found him abandoned by his mother, and hand raised him. Because of that,Larry allowed Matt to carry him around and do things with him I've never seen a cat endure. For example, Matt would cradle Larry in his arms upside down while he smacked Larry's face with his tail, or he would hold Larry's two front paws in one hand and his back paws in another. Then, he would extend his hands so that Larry's body hung U- shaped between them.Larry would meow mournfully, but never tried to escape by using aggressive tactics like biting or scratching. Kim told me that was because he considered Matt to be his mother.
Another thing about Larry, he was always one of the guys. At that time, the Big Gray
Men's Club had it's largest membership consisting of Steven, Kim, Matt, John, Michael, the Professor (one of our "extended" family)and me. We usually met in the Library unless warm weather forced us to the backyard. Often, we sat on the floor in a circle for power ceremonies and pots of tea. Larry, if he was around would join us, situating himself in the center of our circle, content to just hang out. If no one was home, he liked to lie on our neighbor's lawn across the street.When he recognized one of our cars turning onto the block, he would race across the street greeting us at the end of the driveway (Barbara, a fierce pet lover, was always afraid one of us would kill him). Often, we would find there the decapitated bodies of mice Larry had hunted down and lined up in formation for our admiration. Matt took him with him when he moved. Ironically, after surviving years of Brooklyn traffic and our driveway, he was killed by a mail truck in a rural area of Maine. He's buried there.
After Larry, we had a few notable cats that lived at Big gray during Dan's tenure. I can't remember all of them by name. Dan and Kristin had one which was fairly unspectacular, and Becky had a little gray cat whose name I can't remember, but who had a great little personality. After Becky went back to England, Kim and Joyce wound up with her. She moved to Pennsylvania with them and lived a good life hunting in the country . Probably the most controversial cat at Big Gray was Kitty, a male Siamese that Joyce owned. He had several annoying habits like pissing in the plants that we had in our dining room, and spraying his noxious signature all over our walls. And like all Siamese, he had that annoying whine most of them make. We had a lot of meetings devoted to dealing with the cats and never were able to stop Kitty from smelling up the house. Joyce was a staunch defender of her cat. I hated him. That's why it was ironic that when Joyce went on vacation one year, she asked me to watch and feed Kitty. I reluctantly agreed since no one else could handle it. Don't you know that little SOB took off the day after Joyce left. I searched everywhere for him, and gave him up for dead in spite of signs we put up all over the neighborhood. Secretly, I was relieved to have this cat issue off the agenda of our meetings. Then, a day before Joyce returned from vacation, someone called us about a cat seen on Shore Road (blocks away from the house) We went to check out the call, and sure enough, it was Kitty. Sam started a rumor that I kicked Kitty out, but Joyce was grateful for the trouble we went through to find him. Then, to make it seem even more suspicious to Sam, a week after Joyce's return, the damn cat ran away again. This time, for good. Sam still asks how I managed to get Kitty to climb into the trunk of my car. "Come on Kitty, we're going to Bensonhurst for a picnic".
Our last cat was Temes who belonged to Bill. He was one of my favorites as he hid under Bill's bed all the time.
As opposed to unpredictable, temperamental cats, there were three predicable, loyal , good time friendly dogs at Big Gray. The first, like many other events and people connected with Big Gray, came to us out of a psychedelic experience. Burt or Bert as some liked to call him, was a scruffy gray and brown mutt with a terrier heritage. He followed Susan home from a walk in our neighborhood while she was tripping. While he was with us, he occasionally got out and wandered the neighbor's yards in search of his favorite meal, garbage. Burt had been a stray and a hobo too long . He needed a change of environment. He needed some land to roam. He wound up, like most of our adopted pets, a great success story. It was Susan and Jackson who found Burt a home on a farm out of state with a lot of space and a big friendly dog pal to roam with.
Our next dog was one of the best experiences I personally have ever had with an animal. Chelsea came to the house with Eddie and Martha. She was a small, pretty dog , a border collie mix with a herding extinct and a tremendous heart for play. I took her for long, long walks along the fields and paths of Shore Road which follows the curve of Long Island at South Brooklyn. On one side, you had the massive Verranzano Bridge, and at the other side of our neighborhood, New York Harbor and the Statue of Liberty. Many times Chelsea and I made that great mile and a half walk where she chased squirrels, ran with other dogs, always singling out the males who were far bigger than she, but unable to match her hair pin swerves in a chase.Chelsea also loved to roll in dead things which she would occasionally find-one of her few unladylike traits.
If I were minding her for Eddie and Martha, I would fill her food bowl in their bedroom on the first and second night. Once she decided Eddie and Martha weren't coming back , she would pad down to my room, and using her head push open the door and lie at the foot of my bed till the day they returned.
Our last dog at Big Gray was the giant, Dylan. He was a Lab mix ( with mastiff blood from the size of him). Dylan, at his advanced age was the most docile dog I've ever known. The cool thing was no one else knew that. When you were walking down the block with him, people would shrink out of the way, afraid Dylan might dispose of them with one bite. He was Vienna's dog, but we all took care of him. Like everything else at Big Gray, boundaries were often blurred.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Sam
Sam deserves his own post as he is on my list of people who I think I know well enough to write about. He and I have had numerous adventures together and still do as we see each other often. Sam is one of the smartest and most knowledgeable people I know, and a real seeker of knowledge. We have a lot of fun playing together and I learn a lot when we work together.My only trouble with Sam is doing something with him when it's in an area where I know as much or perhaps even more than Sam. Then, Sam is, as I often tell him, a "pain in the ass". I understand that the need to question every step in a process is a security issue for Sam whose family are a bunch of weird and selfish people, however, I ain't one of them. Of course, I am a pain in the ass who never feels he's wrong either, so I'm really not one to judge. To be fair, Sam and I usually work out our differences, and in spite of them, really like each other.
Sam had a good time with the guys at Big Gray. The men's club of Big Gray was a long standing tradition at the house. The men (especially) were more likely to have night jobs or weekends in the middle of the week as I did at both the bookstore and at Circle's.That also meant the people who you hung out with the most at Big Gray were men. There were a few women who didn't fit the mold , like Sylvia who worked nights waitressing and Donna who had ten or more odd jobs in her three year stay. But by and large,it was the men of the house who would find themselves gathering together for all manner of conversation and libations. I'm sure it was during one of these "meetings" that Sam and I cooked up the idea to grow pot indoors at Big Gray.Our outdoor gardens were far too apparent to our neighbors to whom we were trying to appear more "normal", and we had an entire crop stolen once before. So, as you constant readers will know, there was a long tradition at Big Gray of using the large, unoccupied space of the basement for individual ventures. Jaime's bottle destroying wall , Barbara's pottery studio, Abby's jewelry studio, Matt's wood shop ,the darkroom and my garden starting area were all "basement projects". The garden area consisted of a wooden frame with three shelves positioned between two of the basement's pillars.I mounted grow lights on the shelves and started garden plants there in early spring. There was a heavy, plastic sheet in the back of the frame used to block the cold from destroying my young plants. We decided to block off the area defined by the frame by placing two pieces of sheet rock from the frame extending back to the cellar wall. That created a "room"which we then sealed from light by lining it with garbage bags. This was important for two reasons. For one, meter readers visited our basement monthly, and secondly, in order to reach the flowering stage, pot needs to be grown in alternating 16 hour "days" and 8 hour nights completely devoid of light. To provide light, we hung a 5 bulb commercial florescent frame which we found in the trash somewhere from the ceiling. We construed a way it could be lowered or raised as needed to supply light to the 9 buckets of a specially designed soil mix we created. An aquarium timer shut the lights off after the requisite 16 hour interval. Characteristically, we argued incessantly during the whole process and the pot even though we got it to flower, wasn't that good. Weeks into our project, we learned that our basement was being bathed in carbon monoxide from a blocked chimney vent. Sam blames that on our arguments. I think we would have argued anyway, but I wonder if it compromised the pot.
Sam and I still argue over most things we do together, but our friendship also continues to grow.
At Big Gray, he had problems with the process of seeking consensus. Like Dan, he found consensus inhibited us from making Big Gray into a truly beautiful place to live and would have opted for a majority rule. (There was always someone who didn't want to spend money or energy for many of these projects)I don't think majority rule belongs in a commune, although I understand their position and often felt the same frustration with less committed people who for various reasons didn't want to go along with projects to improve the house. Recently, Sam's partner proposed we (She and Sam and my wife and I) buy a piece of property with the intention of creating another communal house, only this time with rules we would all be committed to following. I shot down the idea. I really don't think a commune can survive with rules, just like I don't believe a family can flourish on rules alone. It takes love and trust to make a family work, and I think the same holds true for communes. That's why all the rituals and parties and meals together are so important. They help provide the "glue" that bind people together. Where I personally failed with Big Gray was in not following my instincts about people who I felt would not fit the Big Gray model. Practically speaking, we would have had far fewer problems had I been stronger about waiting for people I felt that bond with. Of course, we would also have had far fewer members that way, but Sam would have been happier. Anyhow, Sam eventually left to argue with his new bride and Big Gray was left trying to recruit what would be its last Fire Chief.
Sam had a good time with the guys at Big Gray. The men's club of Big Gray was a long standing tradition at the house. The men (especially) were more likely to have night jobs or weekends in the middle of the week as I did at both the bookstore and at Circle's.That also meant the people who you hung out with the most at Big Gray were men. There were a few women who didn't fit the mold , like Sylvia who worked nights waitressing and Donna who had ten or more odd jobs in her three year stay. But by and large,it was the men of the house who would find themselves gathering together for all manner of conversation and libations. I'm sure it was during one of these "meetings" that Sam and I cooked up the idea to grow pot indoors at Big Gray.Our outdoor gardens were far too apparent to our neighbors to whom we were trying to appear more "normal", and we had an entire crop stolen once before. So, as you constant readers will know, there was a long tradition at Big Gray of using the large, unoccupied space of the basement for individual ventures. Jaime's bottle destroying wall , Barbara's pottery studio, Abby's jewelry studio, Matt's wood shop ,the darkroom and my garden starting area were all "basement projects". The garden area consisted of a wooden frame with three shelves positioned between two of the basement's pillars.I mounted grow lights on the shelves and started garden plants there in early spring. There was a heavy, plastic sheet in the back of the frame used to block the cold from destroying my young plants. We decided to block off the area defined by the frame by placing two pieces of sheet rock from the frame extending back to the cellar wall. That created a "room"which we then sealed from light by lining it with garbage bags. This was important for two reasons. For one, meter readers visited our basement monthly, and secondly, in order to reach the flowering stage, pot needs to be grown in alternating 16 hour "days" and 8 hour nights completely devoid of light. To provide light, we hung a 5 bulb commercial florescent frame which we found in the trash somewhere from the ceiling. We construed a way it could be lowered or raised as needed to supply light to the 9 buckets of a specially designed soil mix we created. An aquarium timer shut the lights off after the requisite 16 hour interval. Characteristically, we argued incessantly during the whole process and the pot even though we got it to flower, wasn't that good. Weeks into our project, we learned that our basement was being bathed in carbon monoxide from a blocked chimney vent. Sam blames that on our arguments. I think we would have argued anyway, but I wonder if it compromised the pot.
Sam and I still argue over most things we do together, but our friendship also continues to grow.
At Big Gray, he had problems with the process of seeking consensus. Like Dan, he found consensus inhibited us from making Big Gray into a truly beautiful place to live and would have opted for a majority rule. (There was always someone who didn't want to spend money or energy for many of these projects)I don't think majority rule belongs in a commune, although I understand their position and often felt the same frustration with less committed people who for various reasons didn't want to go along with projects to improve the house. Recently, Sam's partner proposed we (She and Sam and my wife and I) buy a piece of property with the intention of creating another communal house, only this time with rules we would all be committed to following. I shot down the idea. I really don't think a commune can survive with rules, just like I don't believe a family can flourish on rules alone. It takes love and trust to make a family work, and I think the same holds true for communes. That's why all the rituals and parties and meals together are so important. They help provide the "glue" that bind people together. Where I personally failed with Big Gray was in not following my instincts about people who I felt would not fit the Big Gray model. Practically speaking, we would have had far fewer problems had I been stronger about waiting for people I felt that bond with. Of course, we would also have had far fewer members that way, but Sam would have been happier. Anyhow, Sam eventually left to argue with his new bride and Big Gray was left trying to recruit what would be its last Fire Chief.
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
The Wedding and the Milk, Butter and Eggs Generation
It all began to fall apart after the wedding. Ah, the wedding! Truly one of our finest moments as a house. My girls and Julie played a roll, Kim was on the piano, I remember Matt serving food chatting up all the guests like a nice, normal person. I should have known. Matt was supposed to ride his Harley up a ramp, through the front hall and into the dining room. (as he did at one of our summer anniversary parties.) It was a bad sign because being married usually meant one thing. Barbara and Michael would be leaving Big Gray to find a home of their own. True, we all had an idea to escape to the country - sort of move Big Gray to the country. But, in the end, Mike and Barbara did it alone, and another great part of the connection I had with that first generation moved away. Matt and Laura also had married (not to each other) and moved. Abby too, after living at Big Gray for a time with Rene, moved to California with him and married. Were wedding bells breaking up that old gang of mine?
In the corner of the bedroom where I sit writing this untangling of my memory, there's a framed photograph taken by an artist friend of Becky's. She was visiting during one of our summer parties and the morning after, when we were all finally up, gathered us outside for a rare group photo. It's a great picture but, Kim and I are the only ones in that photograph who had a link to our early history. Moreover, Joyce is the only one in that photo older than Kim. When Kim joined our original group, I recall that he was our youngest member. Now here we sat, two old bachelors, among these younger single people. The next generation had taken over, and I was getting older. Could I still be relevant among this younger group of mid-westerners?
Well, let me tell you, I sometimes did feel out of place and that was just too bad, because it was really my problem. Anyway, Dan's was a strong generation, two among it old friends of his from Ohio. They were also two guys who contributed a lot to the quality of life at Big Gray. Keith was a great guy, and the father of an adorable little boy. He was going through a lot of relationship problems while he lived with us, but Keith was always good to be around. (Another Big Gray Aquarius). And the other Cincinnati guy was Eddie who came to Big Gray with the beautiful Martha. He was one of our outstanding book keepers. He kept a lot of stuff in his head unlike Barbara whose record keeping was flawless, but he had some decent ideas on the sharing and privatizing of food in the refrigerator. Eddie was the founder of the Milk Butter and Eggs Club which significantly streamlined the organization of the space in our (two) refrigerators. He also started us on recycling. On a personal level, Eddie was a good and generous friend. I believe he was the driving force behind taking up a collection for me on my 50th birthday to help pay for a trip to Italy which I probably would not have gone on without that gift and the fact that he would be meeting me in Rome. We went to a few Dead concerts together, as well. Eddie was also a frequent visitor to my room with his red bong which he bequeathed to me when he left. (Yesterday, I went to a wedding. The tie I wore -a silk lined classic, was a gift of Eddie's from his dad's closet.) And if all that weren't enough, Eddie moved to Big Gray with two girls I really loved- Martha, his girlfriend at the time and Chelsea, his dog.I took care of Chelsea whenever he and Martha were away, and I hung out with Martha and Kim (who also had a crush on Martha) whenever she was available. Eddie left Big Gray, broke up with Martha who became a Park Ranger in Washington, and went to medical school. I think Abby is still in touch with him. If that's the case, I hope she will direct him to the blog so he may add his remembrances. While I'm on that subject, I hope that all of you who read this will use the comments section to add your thoughts.The Milk Butter and Eggs generation was not without its problems, but compared to its predecessor, it was a quiet time at the big house. We had two fire chiefs. The guy who we took in right before Michael and Barbara left was the leader of that generation, Dan. As I said, he was from Ohio, a big Cincinnati Reds and Bengals fan. He studied Chinese at Ohio State and was translating letters and documents from China for a New York law firm when he came to Big Gray. Dan was an extremely ambitious person. He applied for and won a Kellogs' Foundation grant and soon after, began working towards the formation of an organization, The New York Rain Forest Alliance. Dan led the fledgling organization from a two person group to a major player in the field of ecological preservation. He still serves as Chairman of the Board. So,all this was going on while Dan was at the house. He left in 1991 after six years.I think Dan truly loved living at Big Gray, but grew weary of our constant necessity to reach consensus. Another fire chief who had a similar problem with our process was Sam who lived at Big Gray for two or three years during Dan's tenure. He too felt that the need for consensus was frustrating and blamed others for what he could not accomplish. Both these guys had a point, but I think both missed the point.If you're going to live in a house like Big Gray, you have to strike a balance between playing by the consensus rules and doing what you think is right. In January of 1989, we received a disturbing letter from the head of the parish council of the church that owned Big Gray. In it he stated that our rental agreement was monthly, and that new considerations (to convert the house for "Church use") required us to vacate by June of that year. The letter was addressed to me. I was very upset by it and immediately wrote a letter to the Monsignor asking him to reconsider the decision. Martha was the only other person home at the time I finished my letter. I showed it to her and asked her opinion. She thought it was OK, but was also disturbed by the news we might lose Big Gray. In spite of my communal sense, I had a proprietary feeling about the house and I sent the letter without consulting anyone else. I felt Dan would have taken a combative stance, which knowing the Monsignor as well as I thought I did, would have been the wrong approach. Someone else might have called a meeting and tried to bring everyone else along. I didn't. Later that evening at the emergency meeting I called, Dan berated me for acting without consulting the house. As I suspected, he wanted to hire a lawyer. Well, as it turned out, the lawyer he consulted told us we had no legal claim. And, when the Monsignor visited the house later on with members of the council, he assured me that "We should not worry- that as long as the house could be rented, he would rent it to us". As it turned out, the Church found it unfeasible to convert the house, and they continued to rent it to us till 1996 when we announced we would no longer continue.I believe my letter prompted the Monsignor's promise and that Dan's approach would have been seen as belligerent. But my point is that I didn't wait.I acted on impulse. I took charge. Dan and Sam both had problems moving within that process. I think it may have something to do with their own family dynamic, but I don't know.
In the corner of the bedroom where I sit writing this untangling of my memory, there's a framed photograph taken by an artist friend of Becky's. She was visiting during one of our summer parties and the morning after, when we were all finally up, gathered us outside for a rare group photo. It's a great picture but, Kim and I are the only ones in that photograph who had a link to our early history. Moreover, Joyce is the only one in that photo older than Kim. When Kim joined our original group, I recall that he was our youngest member. Now here we sat, two old bachelors, among these younger single people. The next generation had taken over, and I was getting older. Could I still be relevant among this younger group of mid-westerners?
Well, let me tell you, I sometimes did feel out of place and that was just too bad, because it was really my problem. Anyway, Dan's was a strong generation, two among it old friends of his from Ohio. They were also two guys who contributed a lot to the quality of life at Big Gray. Keith was a great guy, and the father of an adorable little boy. He was going through a lot of relationship problems while he lived with us, but Keith was always good to be around. (Another Big Gray Aquarius). And the other Cincinnati guy was Eddie who came to Big Gray with the beautiful Martha. He was one of our outstanding book keepers. He kept a lot of stuff in his head unlike Barbara whose record keeping was flawless, but he had some decent ideas on the sharing and privatizing of food in the refrigerator. Eddie was the founder of the Milk Butter and Eggs Club which significantly streamlined the organization of the space in our (two) refrigerators. He also started us on recycling. On a personal level, Eddie was a good and generous friend. I believe he was the driving force behind taking up a collection for me on my 50th birthday to help pay for a trip to Italy which I probably would not have gone on without that gift and the fact that he would be meeting me in Rome. We went to a few Dead concerts together, as well. Eddie was also a frequent visitor to my room with his red bong which he bequeathed to me when he left. (Yesterday, I went to a wedding. The tie I wore -a silk lined classic, was a gift of Eddie's from his dad's closet.) And if all that weren't enough, Eddie moved to Big Gray with two girls I really loved- Martha, his girlfriend at the time and Chelsea, his dog.I took care of Chelsea whenever he and Martha were away, and I hung out with Martha and Kim (who also had a crush on Martha) whenever she was available. Eddie left Big Gray, broke up with Martha who became a Park Ranger in Washington, and went to medical school. I think Abby is still in touch with him. If that's the case, I hope she will direct him to the blog so he may add his remembrances. While I'm on that subject, I hope that all of you who read this will use the comments section to add your thoughts.The Milk Butter and Eggs generation was not without its problems, but compared to its predecessor, it was a quiet time at the big house. We had two fire chiefs. The guy who we took in right before Michael and Barbara left was the leader of that generation, Dan. As I said, he was from Ohio, a big Cincinnati Reds and Bengals fan. He studied Chinese at Ohio State and was translating letters and documents from China for a New York law firm when he came to Big Gray. Dan was an extremely ambitious person. He applied for and won a Kellogs' Foundation grant and soon after, began working towards the formation of an organization, The New York Rain Forest Alliance. Dan led the fledgling organization from a two person group to a major player in the field of ecological preservation. He still serves as Chairman of the Board. So,all this was going on while Dan was at the house. He left in 1991 after six years.I think Dan truly loved living at Big Gray, but grew weary of our constant necessity to reach consensus. Another fire chief who had a similar problem with our process was Sam who lived at Big Gray for two or three years during Dan's tenure. He too felt that the need for consensus was frustrating and blamed others for what he could not accomplish. Both these guys had a point, but I think both missed the point.If you're going to live in a house like Big Gray, you have to strike a balance between playing by the consensus rules and doing what you think is right. In January of 1989, we received a disturbing letter from the head of the parish council of the church that owned Big Gray. In it he stated that our rental agreement was monthly, and that new considerations (to convert the house for "Church use") required us to vacate by June of that year. The letter was addressed to me. I was very upset by it and immediately wrote a letter to the Monsignor asking him to reconsider the decision. Martha was the only other person home at the time I finished my letter. I showed it to her and asked her opinion. She thought it was OK, but was also disturbed by the news we might lose Big Gray. In spite of my communal sense, I had a proprietary feeling about the house and I sent the letter without consulting anyone else. I felt Dan would have taken a combative stance, which knowing the Monsignor as well as I thought I did, would have been the wrong approach. Someone else might have called a meeting and tried to bring everyone else along. I didn't. Later that evening at the emergency meeting I called, Dan berated me for acting without consulting the house. As I suspected, he wanted to hire a lawyer. Well, as it turned out, the lawyer he consulted told us we had no legal claim. And, when the Monsignor visited the house later on with members of the council, he assured me that "We should not worry- that as long as the house could be rented, he would rent it to us". As it turned out, the Church found it unfeasible to convert the house, and they continued to rent it to us till 1996 when we announced we would no longer continue.I believe my letter prompted the Monsignor's promise and that Dan's approach would have been seen as belligerent. But my point is that I didn't wait.I acted on impulse. I took charge. Dan and Sam both had problems moving within that process. I think it may have something to do with their own family dynamic, but I don't know.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Joyce and Maureen
With the benefit of hindsight, I am able to see the era after Steven as a turning point for Big Gray. Before and during Steven's tenure, I remember us acting much more by acclimation rather than by deliberation.The Native American metaphor, provided a kind of back story for us, and it produced a house where action often came before discussion. I suppose it would be valid to call it anarchy. I had a prejudice about establishing rules, as did many of the earlier members. We did have basic expectations that we would act towards each other in good faith, however. I mentioned before the way we took Kim into the house. We decided 5 minutes after he left the room that he was in.. We used to clean the house the same way. You might see Richie and Sylvia standing on the roof over the first floor shaking out rugs, and you would start cleaning yourself. Or the time right after Steven came, when we spent the day refurbishing the Library and painting (On Magic Mushrooms). Of course, a person could easily feel overlooked with that kind of "gang mentality" but I liked it better than setting up rules and having to say at meetings," The Library wasn't cleaned last week". During the early days, we were hated by the neighbors and that snake George (from the church) who would prowl around the house and take grape leaves without asking. All that adversary brought us together. I guess what happened after those initial 6 or 7 years is that we all needed a break from the chaos around our little group, and in a way, we became ordinary. Oh, the parties would still be good, and we would still have the opportunities to meet some great people along the way. And the internal disputes would continue,not as intensely for sure,. We would still have our share of eccentrics, but we would never again feel the same kind of exhilaration as when it was "us against the world".
The next person we took into Big Gray caused many meetings and discussions before we decided on her.She was a new direction for all of us. Every person we took into the house prior to Joyce had a certain kind of connection to the so-called" hippie or alternative" culture. Even Andrea who was pretty "straight" was extremely interested in alternative communities. In a way, Joyce symbolized the era that was to follow. Ironically, she wound up with Kim who was the most visible of our hippies. But when I interviewed her, I perceived this rather frail, cool woman who was here to study, (like many before and after her) who hated her present Manhattan "closet" and needed to find a cheap place to live. I never felt a real need(from her) to want to live with us because she thought it was anything more than a practical idea. I couldn't get off that till Barbara made the point that we needed her rent, we had been interviewing for a month and, she emphasized, we needed to clean up our act. I didn't want to clean up our act. I liked that we grew pot in the backyard. However, Barbara had a point too. It was right for us to take in someone who would be steady, straight and more "main stream". In the end, Barbara's thinking prevailed, and we voted Joyce a member. Maureen too came at that point. She too needed a place more than she needed to live in a commune. John wanted her because she was his age, but in the end, Maureen would join forces with Joyce and become a "voting block" to be dealt with over the years. There were many times I felt frustrated by their combined wills as when they voted against accepting a good friend of mine into the house. But, I can also recall many meetings where it was Joyce's cool way of looking at a problem that produced a solution. They both stayed to the end of our time as a house, so in many ways, the last fourteen years of our history can rightly be known as the Joyce and Maureen era. They were both part of the next group that would leave their mark on Big Gray- the group led by the Ohio Kid, Dan K.
The next person we took into Big Gray caused many meetings and discussions before we decided on her.She was a new direction for all of us. Every person we took into the house prior to Joyce had a certain kind of connection to the so-called" hippie or alternative" culture. Even Andrea who was pretty "straight" was extremely interested in alternative communities. In a way, Joyce symbolized the era that was to follow. Ironically, she wound up with Kim who was the most visible of our hippies. But when I interviewed her, I perceived this rather frail, cool woman who was here to study, (like many before and after her) who hated her present Manhattan "closet" and needed to find a cheap place to live. I never felt a real need(from her) to want to live with us because she thought it was anything more than a practical idea. I couldn't get off that till Barbara made the point that we needed her rent, we had been interviewing for a month and, she emphasized, we needed to clean up our act. I didn't want to clean up our act. I liked that we grew pot in the backyard. However, Barbara had a point too. It was right for us to take in someone who would be steady, straight and more "main stream". In the end, Barbara's thinking prevailed, and we voted Joyce a member. Maureen too came at that point. She too needed a place more than she needed to live in a commune. John wanted her because she was his age, but in the end, Maureen would join forces with Joyce and become a "voting block" to be dealt with over the years. There were many times I felt frustrated by their combined wills as when they voted against accepting a good friend of mine into the house. But, I can also recall many meetings where it was Joyce's cool way of looking at a problem that produced a solution. They both stayed to the end of our time as a house, so in many ways, the last fourteen years of our history can rightly be known as the Joyce and Maureen era. They were both part of the next group that would leave their mark on Big Gray- the group led by the Ohio Kid, Dan K.
Friday, August 03, 2007
Boyfriends and Girlfriends
With the exception of Laura, whose boyfriends rarely if ever visited the house, most of our significant others were often present and , all too often, proposed as prospective members. This was always a dilemma for me, because I discovered over the years, that a boyfriend or girlfriend often brought out negative traits which were less visible when that person was single. Now, of course this wasn't always true. In fact, several liaisons proved to be very good for the house. The problem was it was almost impossible to vote against a boyfriend or girlfriend entering the house. In fact, I can't remember a single incidence of one being rejected. For better or worse, we were all subjected to each other's taste in partners. It started with our core group. Jaime, after a few weeks in the house, started talking about this woman he had met in an ashram somewhere. Although they had never made love, they had a deep spiritual connection and he had invited her to stay with him over the summer. When Barbara G. arrived, we all liked her. She was British and very beautiful. I spent a good deal of time with her and really enjoyed talking to her. Apparently, Jaime and she never consummated their relationship. She wound up with a friend of Jaime and later returned to England. While she was home, she sent me a letter confessing that she had really been attracted to me, but didn't want to say anything for fear of spoiling Jaime and my friendship.After Barbara B was in the house, she (Barbara G) returned to the States and asked Alan and I to sponsor her for membership. Kim was on one of his sabbaticals and Alan and I were the only ones she knew. Steven killed the deal. Barbara B was tolerable to him (even though she was middle-class) because she was American, but Barbara G., being British, was totally unacceptable. So we had to tell her she couldn't join. She took it really badly, and I felt terrible.
Both Kim and I hooked up with other house mates while they were in the house. I was with Sheila and later Donna, and Kim with Susan and later, Joyce. I thought that together, Donna and I were a good mix for the house. We tried to be good house members and rarely ganged up on anyone. Both of Kim's girl friends didn't change appreciably from being with him, at least as far as their participation in the house was concerned. Then again, Kim wasn't a dynamo as far as house politics were concerned.
We had four couples who joined the house as couples. They were Sylvia and Richie, Eddie and Martha, Pete and Claire and Eric and Cathy. In spite of their problems with each other, Sylvia and Richie were great. They were both house leaders and while they were together, were both dynamic members who added a lot to Big Gray's culture. Eddie and Martha were very different in that Eddie was much more of a doer who readily joined in the group dynamic. Martha was somewhat less of a contributor to house politics, but Kim and I really liked her, and enjoyed laughing with her (especially about house politics). Pete and Claire were virtually inseparable. They were the most committed of the couples who joined the house together, had similar kinds of laid back personalities, shared the same career goals, and are, last I heard, now married and living in Delaware. I remember their perogi meals and Pete's contribution to the design and building of our back porch. Eric and Cathy were, unfortunately a disaster. They were married, more because of Cathy's immigrant status I think, than for mutual affection.This may be a harsh judgment , but Cathy, who spoke only French acted like a total shrew while they were in the house together. I saw it coming. I thought that Cathy was just along for the ride when Eric answered our ad for the house. I tried to draw her out during my interview with them, but she seemed almost disinterested . Eric kept apologizing for her, saying it was due to the language barrier, but I had serious reservations. I exacted a promise from him that he would make Cathy understand that house membership depended on both of them being a part of the house. The problems started almost immediately. Cathy had some problems with Maureen as I recall. Now Maureen, as I will tell later, was not the best at relating, but Cathy seemed really in the wrong. She also refused at first, to attend house meetings. Then,whenever she and Eric had problems, she would shriek and stamp her feet on the floor of their bedroom like some petulant child. We tried mediation, but she stomped out of the house meeting we called to alleviate the situation. It was a shame, because I liked Eric, but he was unable to handle her. We asked them to leave the house. I felt like Eric was deceitful in accepting membership knowing how opposed his wife was to living at Big Gray.
I told you a little about Michael earlier. When Barbara presented him to us as a member , it was an easy sell as far as I was concerned. I don't remember any real objection to him, and theirs was a great relationship. They never (and still don't) overwhelm you as a couple the way others did. I always felt totally comfortable in their presence. And, they were a great team for the house. They did some serious redecorating (Including the pumpkin colored dining room) and were a steadying influence on all of us. Michael was a great friend to me, and a source of sage advice too. When I was making up my list of Fire Chiefs, I omitted Michal because his style was so different than Matt or Steven, but he was a true leader in the house. While he was working as a school teacher (He taught high school at Bertrum Russel in the city) and a therapist, he willingly paid his rent a year in advance so we might have a cushion for paying the bills. Mike and Barbara were married while they were at Big Gray. Joyce and I went to City Hall with them for a quiet, private ceremony. Then, that weekend, we invited some 110 people to a big party at the house. We were able to put 85 folding chairs in the Dance Room with the other guests on the porch or standing in the back. Barbara came down the grand staircase with her entourage, and Michael , his best man, and me (I officiated) followed. Kim played the wedding march on the piano. It was a really nice ceremony and a great party-one of our finest moments. Mike and Barbara now live in Saugerties, New York and are among my closest friends from Big Gray.
Matt also met a girl while he was living at Big Gray, and sponsored her for membership. Gail was an artist whose principal medium was photography. She did some nice work while she was at Big Gray, but the problems between Matt and her proved her undoing. They had several arguments in front of others which were a little disconcerting, and the depressive side of Gail's nature would often become evident. In her defense, Matt had such a forceful personality that she often felt left out of decisions concerning their present and future plans. In fact, the woman who Matt met right after Gail and he broke up with whom he had three children, also complained of Matt's dominance in terms of asserting his will. In spite of his women problems, I will say if I were ever in an emergency situation, be it in a plane, in a foxhole, anywhere, I would want Matt at my side. He just wasn't that good at choosing women who could stand up to his strong will.
Abby's boyfriends did fairly well at the house. The first guy she brought around was English, and a nice guy. I remember he took part in our Kris Kringle tradition, and baked scones for us a few mornings. The man who she eventually married, and who she now lives with in Florida was an old hippie like the rest of us. He taught at Lincoln High School with Abby and had a big personality, which rubbed some the wrong way. But I recognized in Renee a certain kind of personality who while slightly pedantic, made for a very successful teacher, and indeed, Renee eventually became an assistant principal.Maureen (of the Cathy war) had a problem with Renee's snoring which she claimed kept her awake at night, but overall, he was like Abby, a warm and engaging personality.
Dan was an Ohio guy who worked in a law firm in New York translating Chinese when he was elected to membership. I will say more of this strong minded individual when I discuss his leadership role. While at Big Gray, he introduced us to Kristin who applied for membership as well. I wasn't exactly bowled over with the idea of accepting Kristin for membership. I felt the two of them would have a tendency to gang up and force their will on the house, which proved often to be the case, but as I said, it was akin to denying a sibling entrance to a private school after an older brother or sister had gained acceptance. It just wasn't done. So Kristin became a member, and when Dan left the house to go off on his own, she stayed behind. Like Donna , she had a strong personality and often tried to assert her will on others. More work for the peace chief. In spite of butting heads with her a few times, I liked Kristin, her mom, her two sisters, and her boyfriend, Russel who she eventually married.
The last of the house couples were Becky and Kent. Becky was a British photography student who came to New York to study and work. We all loved her and had a lot of fun entertaining her friends who traveled to Big Gray for visits. Kent was a young man from San Francisco who she met in New York. He too was a lot of fun and joined the house without making any serious waves. As a couple, they were good with each other and easy with the rest of us. I sometimes felt left out of the couple mix, but theirs was generally a good union.
In the end, it all boils down to my theory of what made a good house mate. If you related well to your family, your chances of making it in the familial atmosphere of Big Gray were greatly enhanced, and, as they say, you treat your spouse like you treated your mom/dad. I saw plenty of that too.
Both Kim and I hooked up with other house mates while they were in the house. I was with Sheila and later Donna, and Kim with Susan and later, Joyce. I thought that together, Donna and I were a good mix for the house. We tried to be good house members and rarely ganged up on anyone. Both of Kim's girl friends didn't change appreciably from being with him, at least as far as their participation in the house was concerned. Then again, Kim wasn't a dynamo as far as house politics were concerned.
We had four couples who joined the house as couples. They were Sylvia and Richie, Eddie and Martha, Pete and Claire and Eric and Cathy. In spite of their problems with each other, Sylvia and Richie were great. They were both house leaders and while they were together, were both dynamic members who added a lot to Big Gray's culture. Eddie and Martha were very different in that Eddie was much more of a doer who readily joined in the group dynamic. Martha was somewhat less of a contributor to house politics, but Kim and I really liked her, and enjoyed laughing with her (especially about house politics). Pete and Claire were virtually inseparable. They were the most committed of the couples who joined the house together, had similar kinds of laid back personalities, shared the same career goals, and are, last I heard, now married and living in Delaware. I remember their perogi meals and Pete's contribution to the design and building of our back porch. Eric and Cathy were, unfortunately a disaster. They were married, more because of Cathy's immigrant status I think, than for mutual affection.This may be a harsh judgment , but Cathy, who spoke only French acted like a total shrew while they were in the house together. I saw it coming. I thought that Cathy was just along for the ride when Eric answered our ad for the house. I tried to draw her out during my interview with them, but she seemed almost disinterested . Eric kept apologizing for her, saying it was due to the language barrier, but I had serious reservations. I exacted a promise from him that he would make Cathy understand that house membership depended on both of them being a part of the house. The problems started almost immediately. Cathy had some problems with Maureen as I recall. Now Maureen, as I will tell later, was not the best at relating, but Cathy seemed really in the wrong. She also refused at first, to attend house meetings. Then,whenever she and Eric had problems, she would shriek and stamp her feet on the floor of their bedroom like some petulant child. We tried mediation, but she stomped out of the house meeting we called to alleviate the situation. It was a shame, because I liked Eric, but he was unable to handle her. We asked them to leave the house. I felt like Eric was deceitful in accepting membership knowing how opposed his wife was to living at Big Gray.
I told you a little about Michael earlier. When Barbara presented him to us as a member , it was an easy sell as far as I was concerned. I don't remember any real objection to him, and theirs was a great relationship. They never (and still don't) overwhelm you as a couple the way others did. I always felt totally comfortable in their presence. And, they were a great team for the house. They did some serious redecorating (Including the pumpkin colored dining room) and were a steadying influence on all of us. Michael was a great friend to me, and a source of sage advice too. When I was making up my list of Fire Chiefs, I omitted Michal because his style was so different than Matt or Steven, but he was a true leader in the house. While he was working as a school teacher (He taught high school at Bertrum Russel in the city) and a therapist, he willingly paid his rent a year in advance so we might have a cushion for paying the bills. Mike and Barbara were married while they were at Big Gray. Joyce and I went to City Hall with them for a quiet, private ceremony. Then, that weekend, we invited some 110 people to a big party at the house. We were able to put 85 folding chairs in the Dance Room with the other guests on the porch or standing in the back. Barbara came down the grand staircase with her entourage, and Michael , his best man, and me (I officiated) followed. Kim played the wedding march on the piano. It was a really nice ceremony and a great party-one of our finest moments. Mike and Barbara now live in Saugerties, New York and are among my closest friends from Big Gray.
Matt also met a girl while he was living at Big Gray, and sponsored her for membership. Gail was an artist whose principal medium was photography. She did some nice work while she was at Big Gray, but the problems between Matt and her proved her undoing. They had several arguments in front of others which were a little disconcerting, and the depressive side of Gail's nature would often become evident. In her defense, Matt had such a forceful personality that she often felt left out of decisions concerning their present and future plans. In fact, the woman who Matt met right after Gail and he broke up with whom he had three children, also complained of Matt's dominance in terms of asserting his will. In spite of his women problems, I will say if I were ever in an emergency situation, be it in a plane, in a foxhole, anywhere, I would want Matt at my side. He just wasn't that good at choosing women who could stand up to his strong will.
Abby's boyfriends did fairly well at the house. The first guy she brought around was English, and a nice guy. I remember he took part in our Kris Kringle tradition, and baked scones for us a few mornings. The man who she eventually married, and who she now lives with in Florida was an old hippie like the rest of us. He taught at Lincoln High School with Abby and had a big personality, which rubbed some the wrong way. But I recognized in Renee a certain kind of personality who while slightly pedantic, made for a very successful teacher, and indeed, Renee eventually became an assistant principal.Maureen (of the Cathy war) had a problem with Renee's snoring which she claimed kept her awake at night, but overall, he was like Abby, a warm and engaging personality.
Dan was an Ohio guy who worked in a law firm in New York translating Chinese when he was elected to membership. I will say more of this strong minded individual when I discuss his leadership role. While at Big Gray, he introduced us to Kristin who applied for membership as well. I wasn't exactly bowled over with the idea of accepting Kristin for membership. I felt the two of them would have a tendency to gang up and force their will on the house, which proved often to be the case, but as I said, it was akin to denying a sibling entrance to a private school after an older brother or sister had gained acceptance. It just wasn't done. So Kristin became a member, and when Dan left the house to go off on his own, she stayed behind. Like Donna , she had a strong personality and often tried to assert her will on others. More work for the peace chief. In spite of butting heads with her a few times, I liked Kristin, her mom, her two sisters, and her boyfriend, Russel who she eventually married.
The last of the house couples were Becky and Kent. Becky was a British photography student who came to New York to study and work. We all loved her and had a lot of fun entertaining her friends who traveled to Big Gray for visits. Kent was a young man from San Francisco who she met in New York. He too was a lot of fun and joined the house without making any serious waves. As a couple, they were good with each other and easy with the rest of us. I sometimes felt left out of the couple mix, but theirs was generally a good union.
In the end, it all boils down to my theory of what made a good house mate. If you related well to your family, your chances of making it in the familial atmosphere of Big Gray were greatly enhanced, and, as they say, you treat your spouse like you treated your mom/dad. I saw plenty of that too.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Sociopath or Saint?
This will be the third and last post involving Steven, a pivotal figure in the history of Big Gray. As a result of Steven's tenure as our Fire Chief, we made several changes in the way we did things in the house, in the people we accepted and even in the way we held parties. For better or worse, Big Gray would continue on for another thirteen years after Steven. We would accept twenty-seven more members and end our experiment as we began it, together.
I've been reading a blog entitled"Farmie," (Sorry, I haven't figured out yet how to link) which tells the story of The Farm, a commune in Tennessee founded by Steven and Ina May Gaskin, two sixties activists/revolutionaries. Theirs was a much bigger, rural based commune. They were able to grow their own food, provide midwifery services to unwed mothers and do humanitarian work in third world countries. They followed Buddhist principles and had lots of rules and two dynamic leaders. At Big Gray, we were a lot smaller and had no real purpose other than to grow individually while we nurtured our alternative family. As I've stated before, our relative success or failure depended largely on the individual's response to the concept of family.
With Steven at the reins, we did prosper, albeit amidst a lot of turmoil. He really did believe and follow the concept of living as an anarchistic group without rules of governance, working out our difficulties by confrontation and integration. Many who lived there with him and several who came after him would never be able to survive in that atmosphere. After he left, we changed a great deal, and the people we took in changed too. I will leave it to you readers to decide if Steven was, as stated in the title of this post, saint or sociopath.
I'll recount a few 0f my memories of encounters with Steven and I invite others, as Mike did in an earlier post, to add their stories if there are any from that era who read my blog. I know that Abby and Kim for example, can add stories that would be illuminative.
To Steven's eye, I blocked my energy. In other words, he saw me as repressed. Now, coming as I did from a Catholic school, middle class background, this may have been true. I believe that my years in therapy and my experimentation with hallucinogens changed much of that, but I'm sure that even now, there remains some aspect of my past. This, to Steven was unacceptable. His Gestalt training made it impossible for him to "be at ease in the presence of someone else's disease." Whether this was an excuse for his behavior or a real response always was a question for me. I'll tell you about two incidents.
The first involves my kids again. As I recall, it was a day they were home from school. They were in our back yard , and I was on the back porch. At that time, Steven who later moved to the (cheaper) attic bedroom, had the bedroom directly over the kitchen. Now, it was later in the afternoon, possibly 2:00 PM. Steven had been working some night shifts as a car service driver in the neighborhood (you recall he had no green card). Apparently, the kids and I awakened him. His reaction was immediate and explosive. He came roaring downstairs screaming that we were inconsiderate and rude. I complained that it was afternoon and didn't realize he was still asleep, etc., but he continued to roar around the dining room now. It was very upsetting to me, but more so to my daughters who were frightened by Steven's manner. I will say that he pushed me into a physical confrontation. Before I knew it, we were grappling, and I was throwing largely ineffective punches as I rolled on the floor enveloped in his arms. Afterwards, I realized that I wasn't hurt at all. Now Steven was 6'4". He was certainly capable of doing damage to me if he wished. Instead, he seemed satisfied that he had provoked a reaction in me, and seemed to bear no ill feelings.
On another occasion, years later , we were in the kitchen together. I was angry with him over some issue and again, he seemed to want a reaction. He was drinking a cup of water at the time, and in the course of our argument, threw the water at me. This time, I backed down from a physical confrontation,even though I would have liked to punch him in the face. I turned my back on him, and he punched me once in the small of my back. It hurt for weeks afterward. I thought he might have ruptured a kidney.
I have also experienced tenderness and caring from Steven. When his drug use and debt to the house became too acute, we voted to remove him. Matt and John went up to his attic room and threw all his belongings out the window. He had bought an old truck which was parked in the yard. Without a word, he packed his things in the truck, and left. We never saw or heard from him again. He had been talking about going down to Florida. He was suffering from a chronic gum infection which he treated himself. I don't honestly know whether he's alive or dead. I know he had maintained contact with his family in England. I hope he was able to get back home again.
I've been reading a blog entitled"Farmie," (Sorry, I haven't figured out yet how to link) which tells the story of The Farm, a commune in Tennessee founded by Steven and Ina May Gaskin, two sixties activists/revolutionaries. Theirs was a much bigger, rural based commune. They were able to grow their own food, provide midwifery services to unwed mothers and do humanitarian work in third world countries. They followed Buddhist principles and had lots of rules and two dynamic leaders. At Big Gray, we were a lot smaller and had no real purpose other than to grow individually while we nurtured our alternative family. As I've stated before, our relative success or failure depended largely on the individual's response to the concept of family.
With Steven at the reins, we did prosper, albeit amidst a lot of turmoil. He really did believe and follow the concept of living as an anarchistic group without rules of governance, working out our difficulties by confrontation and integration. Many who lived there with him and several who came after him would never be able to survive in that atmosphere. After he left, we changed a great deal, and the people we took in changed too. I will leave it to you readers to decide if Steven was, as stated in the title of this post, saint or sociopath.
I'll recount a few 0f my memories of encounters with Steven and I invite others, as Mike did in an earlier post, to add their stories if there are any from that era who read my blog. I know that Abby and Kim for example, can add stories that would be illuminative.
To Steven's eye, I blocked my energy. In other words, he saw me as repressed. Now, coming as I did from a Catholic school, middle class background, this may have been true. I believe that my years in therapy and my experimentation with hallucinogens changed much of that, but I'm sure that even now, there remains some aspect of my past. This, to Steven was unacceptable. His Gestalt training made it impossible for him to "be at ease in the presence of someone else's disease." Whether this was an excuse for his behavior or a real response always was a question for me. I'll tell you about two incidents.
The first involves my kids again. As I recall, it was a day they were home from school. They were in our back yard , and I was on the back porch. At that time, Steven who later moved to the (cheaper) attic bedroom, had the bedroom directly over the kitchen. Now, it was later in the afternoon, possibly 2:00 PM. Steven had been working some night shifts as a car service driver in the neighborhood (you recall he had no green card). Apparently, the kids and I awakened him. His reaction was immediate and explosive. He came roaring downstairs screaming that we were inconsiderate and rude. I complained that it was afternoon and didn't realize he was still asleep, etc., but he continued to roar around the dining room now. It was very upsetting to me, but more so to my daughters who were frightened by Steven's manner. I will say that he pushed me into a physical confrontation. Before I knew it, we were grappling, and I was throwing largely ineffective punches as I rolled on the floor enveloped in his arms. Afterwards, I realized that I wasn't hurt at all. Now Steven was 6'4". He was certainly capable of doing damage to me if he wished. Instead, he seemed satisfied that he had provoked a reaction in me, and seemed to bear no ill feelings.
On another occasion, years later , we were in the kitchen together. I was angry with him over some issue and again, he seemed to want a reaction. He was drinking a cup of water at the time, and in the course of our argument, threw the water at me. This time, I backed down from a physical confrontation,even though I would have liked to punch him in the face. I turned my back on him, and he punched me once in the small of my back. It hurt for weeks afterward. I thought he might have ruptured a kidney.
I have also experienced tenderness and caring from Steven. When his drug use and debt to the house became too acute, we voted to remove him. Matt and John went up to his attic room and threw all his belongings out the window. He had bought an old truck which was parked in the yard. Without a word, he packed his things in the truck, and left. We never saw or heard from him again. He had been talking about going down to Florida. He was suffering from a chronic gum infection which he treated himself. I don't honestly know whether he's alive or dead. I know he had maintained contact with his family in England. I hope he was able to get back home again.
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