Cafe Hitch-hike

2022-12-26

The far side of the boojee fishing village

I joked on social media, ‘My Sharona, I got the ‘rona!’. Although I had covid over the holidays, I was in touch with quite a few people. I was surprised by the attention, and I cherished it. I was so glad to hear from my siblings, and my sis Big Momma sent me a pic with her 4 kids and her 5 grandbabies who are all toddler age. And, then the neighbors were in touch. Jersey Jane, my sassy nonagenarian neighbor, also kept tabs. I keep tabs on her since I live a few feet away from her unit and do enjoy her company when we touch base.

The symptoms eased off after 3 days though I had some lung congestion. Neighbors assisted with store and over the counter medicine runs. I decided to use the time to get rest and not think of the usual barrage of mental clutter that usually occupies the vacant lots of my head (hah). Miss Marley stayed by my side the entire time and didn’t even opt to sleep in her den spots around the house.

I really think I got better the way I did with a special thanks to friends who got in touch, the neighbors, and the people I was going to invite for my Christmas brunch. If I am lucky enough to have tested negative (I’ll get results tomorrow), I’ll make it a New Year’s Day brunch. I should be able to safely host once I sanitize everything.

I’ve known the fishing village where I live holds certain stereotypes. It’s a fairly affluent and gentrified place that’s become a bit of a colony for prosperous northeasterners, so it’s known for being very boojee/ bougie (however one spells it). Even my dog has gotten the nickname: ‘Marley is a fishing village dog!’. Well, it’s technically true because she was adopted in a pet shop in this ‘ville and I guess if she were a mutt, she’d be seen as less boojee.

When I’ve told people where I lived, they muttered, ‘oh, you must be rich.’. I quite disliked that assumption. They assume I go to The Boulevard all the time (I don’t). However, I was recently asked, ‘were you in rehab?’ and the person didn’t believe me when I said I was not. They assumed I lived here because I was in rehab (this region has many of those) and decided to stay.

Well, thanks to a loss and gain, I was able to buy in my current fishing village because it seemed to be a reasonable investment. It was in an unusual location which I liked though I missed being closer to the ocean where I had lived. Now that I’ve been here, I see that my complex is full of people with the same thing in mind. They wanted the fishing village zip code but without the inflated fishing village price. However, as I got to know the people in my ‘hood, I now see I have a bit more in common with my neighbors than I thought.

I’m learning that everyone here came with quite the story. I learned this as I decided who to invite to my holiday brunch. Over the months, I’ve heard quite the stories. Some had seriously fallen from grace (one was a record company exec who got caught frequenting trans- ‘entertainers’ according to 2 NY newspapers). Some had interesting lives (one was a well-known female radio DJ in the 1970s and 80s). We have a lot of retired cops who have a winter home. Some stumbled around before ending up here (a Jamaican nurse couple said the quality of jobs they found and schools for their 2 beloved kids matched). Most came to either start again, or try to live out their days in the sun and relative quiet.

No one is wealthy. Even for those who used to be, they don’t have airs about it. The former record company exec (who is a wiener dog dad) said he liked his expensive suits from a tailor, but other than hearing about a past luxury or 2, I otherwise don’t get a whiff of snobbery.

We have a lot of immigrants who came here for the same reason I did. They tend to keep to themselves, though I am frequently greeted by the Spanish-speakers.

Some people are seriously awful to each other. I’ve heard stories about the neighbors that were verified by additional people. I heard one resident, a former model, used to prance almost-nude on her upper-level unit when the lawn guys were around. Every once in a while, the community monthly bulletin has some message telling people to be nicer to each other. I’m surprised how rude some people are to one another. Every ‘hood has its gossip and cliques, yes, but I guess it’s another expression of human interaction.

Juliette the neighbor works for a high-end real estate company, and she assures me the people in the nearby rich communities are just as interesting if not more. She said whenever one of those communities gets bad press, their company has a PR person because they are so fearful it will blow back on them, so they assure the public they have nothing to do with the bizarre behavior.

I added up what I’ve learned or heard of people here and felt concerned to where I told my mentor. He briskly answered, “at least where you live is not boring, and you’re not surrounded by a bunch of vanilla people!”. Riiiiight.

So here I am, one of these denizens. I’d never admit to being normal and 49 years of life has tarnished me in a way or 2 (or a dozen). If anything, there’s been details of my experiences that -hah- would really make me fit in here.

It makes me think of a group I had met who boasted, “we were the people who couldn’t get in to a fraternity or sorority when we were in college, and we didn’t care!”. I guess 4 years after my terrified home purchase, I discovered I fit in here just fine.

downwind | upstream