Let me begin by making it very, very clear that Lauren and I do not in any way consider ourselves experts in the complex and brutal sport that is romance. When it comes to flirting, dating or--god-forbid--the L word itself, we are notoriously flawed. That being said, we have seen a lot of 90's chick flicks and have spent a lot of time interacting with a wide variety of Sebastopolians, and therefore consider ourselves qualified to instruct you, Dear Reader, on how to find love in Sebastopol.
1) Whole Foods--"I don't want anything serious, just some harmless, obnoxious flirting!"
If you enjoy being referred to as "Hey girl, hey", "Darlin'," or "Missy," Whole Foods is probably the place for you. Expect to spend a good 3 minutes at the express register, while a "weird little white boy who walks like an ostrich who shit in his diaper" (copyright Tiamat Warda, 2011) playfully harasses you about your choice of soup. Or maybe you prefer the quieter type? Look for the tan, curly-haired yogi in purple spandex. And for those of you who favor the ladies, I'd suggest taking a stroll through the Whole Body section, there a few loverly females who will be happy to tell you everything you need to know about Shea butter.
2) Box Office Video--"I want someone who appreciates Wes Anderson even more than I do!"
Looking to find that special someone to spend hours discussing indie film with? Hit up the boys and girls at Box Office Video. They may be pale due to an incurable addiction to Arrested Development, but underneath the glasses and unwashed Edward Scissorhands t-shirt, you'll find that they are actually quite attractive. If you wish to interact with one of them, inquire as to where you might find 'Amelie' or 'Trainspotting'. And if for some reason you're renting a film that was made in the U.S. and does not involve drugs, child prostitution or some other highly controversial subject, you'll need to come up with a worthy excuse such as, "Haha, oh, yeah, it's for my Grandmother, she's very, very sick, you see..." Under no circumstances can you admit to watching the Notebook of your own free will. NEVER.
3) Copperfield's Books--"I'm on the lookout for a furry Welshman or a supermegafoxyawesomehot booknerd!"
Yes, it is true, at one point in time there was a scruffily-dressed, bearded Welshman working at Copperfield's. Alas, he has not been spotted there for a while (believe the Lailah, we'd know!). However, Copperfield's is still overflowing with bushy-haired, fair-skinned Harry Potter-worshipers (most of them female). Stop by if you're up for a casual, short-term relationship, but if you're in it for the long haul we'd suggest looking elsewhere--unless you're Neville Longbottom or Holden Caulfield you'll never fully live up to a Copperfield's employees expectations.
4) The Cookie Company--"I'm in the mood for some good eye contact!"
Look no further. Apart from delicious cookies and fab italian sodas, the Cookie Company employees also provide excellent eye contact. And if there's anything we, The Lailah, are experienced with, it's eye contact. After years upon years of *professional* theatrical training, we have a strong appreciation for firm, unwaivering eye contact. None of that glance-now-look-away bullcrap. We're talking eye contact that lasts up to 10-15 seconds, WITHOUT blinking. Get yourself a triple chip while you're at it.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Friday, August 19, 2011
Gargoyling
Gargoyle |ˈgärˌgoil|
noun
a grotesque carved human or animal face or figure projecting from the gutter of a building, typically acting as a spout to carry water clear of a wall.
There's a new craze sweeping the nation! Well... Maybe not the nation, more like some circles in the small but charming hamlet of Sebastopol, California.
First there was planking:
Then there was owling:
AND NOW THERE IS GARGOYLING:
The concept originated on a trip to the Russian River with Ailah, Pauline, Sarah, Fred and Tyler. So, the general idea is you sorta crouch down in a highly conspicuous place, do something creepy with yo arms and make a hellza ugly, scary face.
So go out and Gargoyle it up! You know you want to.
noun
a grotesque carved human or animal face or figure projecting from the gutter of a building, typically acting as a spout to carry water clear of a wall.
There's a new craze sweeping the nation! Well... Maybe not the nation, more like some circles in the small but charming hamlet of Sebastopol, California.
First there was planking:
Then there was owling:
AND NOW THERE IS GARGOYLING:
The concept originated on a trip to the Russian River with Ailah, Pauline, Sarah, Fred and Tyler. So, the general idea is you sorta crouch down in a highly conspicuous place, do something creepy with yo arms and make a hellza ugly, scary face.
So go out and Gargoyle it up! You know you want to.
Monday, August 15, 2011
The Three "S" 's of a Sebastopol Interlude
Hey guys, so there's this thing I've noticed. Sebastopol, being the happening place that it is, will occasionally have a bit of excitement. Dear reader, I use the term "excitement" here really, very loosely. Anyhoo, we have a bit of excitement, for example, a car might make a left out of the Whole Foods parking lot or a dog might get off it's leash and book it up Main Street. In any and all of these little events the majority of the Sebastopolian population will inevitably act in this manner AKA The Three S's.
1)SEE.
They look around in a frenzy. "What? What? Something's happening? What the fuck? Nothing ever happens here."
2)STARE.
They then locate the source of the excitement. "Oh my Buddha." The gawk, open mouthed and shocked.
(Note here that really nobody offers to help, usually only one person will make an effort to lend a helping hand)
3)SHRUG.
The casual looker-on-er's will then shrug like, "Meh... I now find myself too marvelous to be bothered." They then just ignore whatever just happened and go on with their life undisturbed.
So the next time you're chillin' in Seb-town you will know the protocal. Yeah, you're welcome.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Tea Party in the Sebastopol Square
This installment of the Sebastopol Blog was written by Aja DeWolf Moura, a fellow Sebastopolian.
Tea Party in the Sebastopol Square?!?!
Yes, yes I know what you're thinking: "Am I dreaming?!?!" The answer is no. No, you're not. This is an actual event that happened, and hopefully will again. The wondrous event was hosted by Ailah Fassett and Lauren Heney and occurred on a sunny July Sunday afternoon. The day of the party I lost my white gloves and searched and searched for them FINALLY finding them at the last moment. My party came in semi-costume. As we approached the square we spotted Lauren, Ailah, and Fred who warmly greeted us with yummy chocolate and cherry scones baked by Lauren and lemonade(no tea, but almost as good). We all sat on the ground with a floral tablecloth spread out and tea cups scattered about the area. We began to converse about daily topics, then Maria and Sarah walked over and joined in to our chat. After approximately thirty minutes a man in a Star Wars T-shirt that must have been in his late 50's came over and asked us about some sign (for some reason he was bothered by it.
"Do you know whose it is?!?!" he asked.
"I think it might be my friends moms..." said Fred.
One thing led to the other and Fred was in the Man's car with the Man's wife, and the Man had taken his place in the circle of tea party folks.
" I'm a chemistry teacher" He said.
" Where do you teach?" someone from the group asked.
He hesitated, which seamed fishy.
"In Healdsburg... I'll give you a FREE math lesson!" The man stood up and began starting the lesson. "Let's say I have 5 feet of wood. I want it to be in inches though! What do I do?"
"You multiply it by 12" Said Sarah casually.
"NO! You cant just multiply by 12! I would be all the way to the fountain! SEE!" He Began to jump with his arms in the air and ranted on and on. He was enraged.
For the next 5 minutes everyone was just silent and looking at the ground, every so often glancing at each other.
"You multiply by 12 and cross out the feet and add inches" Sarah answered sheepishly.
"That's correct!" The man sat back down and showed us the "Dead fish" method.
As he told us he would pat Lauren's back. She slowly scooted away from him.
"When I was in college I was failing algebra and I was a WOMANIZER, just like Bill!"
We were all in shock! The only thing on our minds was how to wiggle our way out of this situation. Finally Fred got back and the man went away. We informed him of what happened and we laughed about it. We moved to the grass and talked about cats and fitness classes. I left then but It was quite an experience.
Why you should go to the next one:
It's an excuse to dress up
There are baked goods!
There is lemonade and hopefully there will be tea next time
You can relax in the Sebastopol Square
Its just time to chat and have fun
So next time COME!
Friday, July 22, 2011
The Lailah’s (Lauren and Ailah’s) Guide for what to do in Sebastopol: Only the coolest and more interesting things.
Part 1: “Now that’s Entertainment!”
This segment of our series brought to you by: Family Vacations. Where budgets inexplicably explode, tensions run high, and patience and love come to die. Where the mere sound of a family member’s voice can push you over the brink of civility and insanity. Bonding experience, my ass.
We should preface this blog by stating the blatantly obvious: There is nothing to do in Sebastopol. But, boy and girls, let that not deter you from exploring our fair hamlet with nothing more than imagination and a childlike sense of wonder.
You are choosing to do these things of your own free will. We are not telling or advising, merely suggesting. AND if you should so happen to have a run-in with our stunningly petulant and bored law enforcement it really, really isn’t our fault.
Sebastopol Cinemas— “Spend the afternoon movie-hopping at a local hotspot!“
The movie theater is the only legitimate source of entertainment in town. It’s a movie theater just like any other. The staff is charmingly crass and bored. You can subtly bring a four-course dinner in with you and consume it without getting harangued by anyone (Trust us. We have. It was delicious. It tasted like rebellion). The cinema has a fairly large selection of films at a low-er-ish price. Check out their website:
http://www.cinemawest.com/
The Skate Park— “If you enjoy laughing at the misfortune and pain of others this is the activity for you!”
Grab a pal and head down to the Sebastopol Skate Park. No, not to skate, we don’t expect that much from you, but simply to lounge, gawk and mock. Plop yourself down and enjoy the antics, both pathetic and skilled, of the skater scene kids. This will be a fabulous exercise in well-intentioned cruelty. Note the fashion. Yes, you were wearing that in 2005. (You remember! Can’t you hear the Fall-Out Boy and Panic! At the Disco echoing in your head?) Yes, it was most likely purchased at Hot Topic. Yes, it’s okay to laugh out loud when the twelve-year-old boy face-plants and rips his black skinny jeans. We suggest bringing some colorful sweet/sour candy to hurl at them to create a diversion if things head south and they collectively grow tired of your continuous trolling.
Florence Avenue— “One man’s junk is another man’s art!”
Here, just a few blocks from Sebastopol’s main drag is a street filled with magic and wonder. And no, not just because I live here, bah dun chussshh. Every other yard contains a large statue/depiction made entirely out of recycled articles. The art ranges from Batman to an Indian “driving a horse” with three turkeys to the rabbit from “Alice in Wonderland” and my personal favorite, the mermaid. Meander down the street and take in the spectacle. I also recommend Florence and the surrounding streets for trick-or-treating on Halloween, if you should so happen to be in the area.
Hopmonk Tavern:
http://www.hopmonk.com/sebastopol/index.html
Open Mic Night— “Talent doesn’t really enter into it!”
This mild travesty occurs every Tuesday, from 7 to 10 PM , at the Hopmonk Tavern on Palm drive. Aside from 3-5 talented regulars this is more or less a crime against art in every sense of the word. So kick back and enjoy the show. Or, if you haz the kahunas, sign the duck up and show us what you’ve got with all the rest! I also highly recommend the Garlic Fries; just go up to the bar and order. Trust me. It’s totes worth the human interaction.
The Northbay Poetry Slam— “For free expression, not for good impressions.”
This monthly event is really one of our favorite things for two reasons:
A) You get to openly mock and judge people and
Dos) It’s a forum for genuine talent and free expression.
It’s hosted by the amazing Brianna Sage, who we both totally have lady-crushes on. It’s a really fun and enlightening interactive experience. There is also a poetry open mic either before or after the slam. It usually happens the second Sunday of each month.
http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Northbay-Poetry-Slam/184788234870050
The Town Square— “The heart and soul of Sebastopol.”
Located, as the name suggests in the center of town, right across from Whole Foods. It should be said that the majority of our Sebastopol Blog stories come from the experiences and interactions that are thrust upon us while in this veritable Bermuda Triangle. The Square can be used for relatively anything, reading, doing yoga, tea parties, farmers markets (Sundays), bathing (the fountain), and, most of all, people watching. People are always coming and going. The homeless are begging and the hippies are getting stoned. Children are playing while their pseudo-enlightened parents over-protectively look on. Life goes on and Lauren and Ailah are watching. Not in a creepy way. Well, kind of. If you’re ever in Sebastopol drop by the Square and there is a very high chance that you will meet one or both of us there. Oh, AND every Thursday evening during the summer there is a concert series from 7PM to whenever.
We will go as far as to include an option for those of you who live on the wild side. If you like pirates more than ninjas and have a taste for raw, authentic culture than this is the option for you:
The Laguna— “Frogs, marijuana, hobos, Oh my!”
Also know as The Swamp. So basically you head past the movie theater and the skate park and down – to – then you just head into the not-so-wilderness. You basically just wander around looking at the “wildlife” which consists of a mediocre variety of foliage, insects, frogs, minnows, fornicating teenagers and hobos. (I also had a very close encounter with a crawdad once. That thing was a beast. I just kept thinking ‘what the fuck? Why is this happening to me?’ as I desperately tried to evade it’s clutches. ) To make this excursion complete you may want to grab a local from the town square to accompany you. This person will in all likelihood have a fair quantity of marijuana on them that you can and will consume to completely authenticate your Sebastopol experience. You should make sure the local you select is attractive on the off chance that you end up “fooling around” with them in said jank-ass swamp.
WARNING: We are not responsible for what happens to your dainty ass, my darling reader. Know that, what happens in the swamp stays at the swamp. And we also advise you to get the hell out of there after dark. Trust The Lailah. NOT A GOOD SCENE.
This segment of our series brought to you by: Family Vacations. Where budgets inexplicably explode, tensions run high, and patience and love come to die. Where the mere sound of a family member’s voice can push you over the brink of civility and insanity. Bonding experience, my ass.
We should preface this blog by stating the blatantly obvious: There is nothing to do in Sebastopol. But, boy and girls, let that not deter you from exploring our fair hamlet with nothing more than imagination and a childlike sense of wonder.
You are choosing to do these things of your own free will. We are not telling or advising, merely suggesting. AND if you should so happen to have a run-in with our stunningly petulant and bored law enforcement it really, really isn’t our fault.
Sebastopol Cinemas— “Spend the afternoon movie-hopping at a local hotspot!“
The movie theater is the only legitimate source of entertainment in town. It’s a movie theater just like any other. The staff is charmingly crass and bored. You can subtly bring a four-course dinner in with you and consume it without getting harangued by anyone (Trust us. We have. It was delicious. It tasted like rebellion). The cinema has a fairly large selection of films at a low-er-ish price. Check out their website:
http://www.cinemawest.com/
The Skate Park— “If you enjoy laughing at the misfortune and pain of others this is the activity for you!”
Grab a pal and head down to the Sebastopol Skate Park. No, not to skate, we don’t expect that much from you, but simply to lounge, gawk and mock. Plop yourself down and enjoy the antics, both pathetic and skilled, of the skater scene kids. This will be a fabulous exercise in well-intentioned cruelty. Note the fashion. Yes, you were wearing that in 2005. (You remember! Can’t you hear the Fall-Out Boy and Panic! At the Disco echoing in your head?) Yes, it was most likely purchased at Hot Topic. Yes, it’s okay to laugh out loud when the twelve-year-old boy face-plants and rips his black skinny jeans. We suggest bringing some colorful sweet/sour candy to hurl at them to create a diversion if things head south and they collectively grow tired of your continuous trolling.
Florence Avenue— “One man’s junk is another man’s art!”
Here, just a few blocks from Sebastopol’s main drag is a street filled with magic and wonder. And no, not just because I live here, bah dun chussshh. Every other yard contains a large statue/depiction made entirely out of recycled articles. The art ranges from Batman to an Indian “driving a horse” with three turkeys to the rabbit from “Alice in Wonderland” and my personal favorite, the mermaid. Meander down the street and take in the spectacle. I also recommend Florence and the surrounding streets for trick-or-treating on Halloween, if you should so happen to be in the area.
Hopmonk Tavern:
http://www.hopmonk.com/sebastopol/index.html
Open Mic Night— “Talent doesn’t really enter into it!”
This mild travesty occurs every Tuesday, from 7 to 10 PM , at the Hopmonk Tavern on Palm drive. Aside from 3-5 talented regulars this is more or less a crime against art in every sense of the word. So kick back and enjoy the show. Or, if you haz the kahunas, sign the duck up and show us what you’ve got with all the rest! I also highly recommend the Garlic Fries; just go up to the bar and order. Trust me. It’s totes worth the human interaction.
The Northbay Poetry Slam— “For free expression, not for good impressions.”
This monthly event is really one of our favorite things for two reasons:
A) You get to openly mock and judge people and
Dos) It’s a forum for genuine talent and free expression.
It’s hosted by the amazing Brianna Sage, who we both totally have lady-crushes on. It’s a really fun and enlightening interactive experience. There is also a poetry open mic either before or after the slam. It usually happens the second Sunday of each month.
http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Northbay-Poetry-Slam/184788234870050
The Town Square— “The heart and soul of Sebastopol.”
Located, as the name suggests in the center of town, right across from Whole Foods. It should be said that the majority of our Sebastopol Blog stories come from the experiences and interactions that are thrust upon us while in this veritable Bermuda Triangle. The Square can be used for relatively anything, reading, doing yoga, tea parties, farmers markets (Sundays), bathing (the fountain), and, most of all, people watching. People are always coming and going. The homeless are begging and the hippies are getting stoned. Children are playing while their pseudo-enlightened parents over-protectively look on. Life goes on and Lauren and Ailah are watching. Not in a creepy way. Well, kind of. If you’re ever in Sebastopol drop by the Square and there is a very high chance that you will meet one or both of us there. Oh, AND every Thursday evening during the summer there is a concert series from 7PM to whenever.
We will go as far as to include an option for those of you who live on the wild side. If you like pirates more than ninjas and have a taste for raw, authentic culture than this is the option for you:
The Laguna— “Frogs, marijuana, hobos, Oh my!”
Also know as The Swamp. So basically you head past the movie theater and the skate park and down – to – then you just head into the not-so-wilderness. You basically just wander around looking at the “wildlife” which consists of a mediocre variety of foliage, insects, frogs, minnows, fornicating teenagers and hobos. (I also had a very close encounter with a crawdad once. That thing was a beast. I just kept thinking ‘what the fuck? Why is this happening to me?’ as I desperately tried to evade it’s clutches. ) To make this excursion complete you may want to grab a local from the town square to accompany you. This person will in all likelihood have a fair quantity of marijuana on them that you can and will consume to completely authenticate your Sebastopol experience. You should make sure the local you select is attractive on the off chance that you end up “fooling around” with them in said jank-ass swamp.
WARNING: We are not responsible for what happens to your dainty ass, my darling reader. Know that, what happens in the swamp stays at the swamp. And we also advise you to get the hell out of there after dark. Trust The Lailah. NOT A GOOD SCENE.
Friday, June 10, 2011
My dear readers,
Usually, on this blog, I tend to write in a humorous, lighthearted and now-and-then sarcastic manner. But, although it saddens me, I feel I must share with you all some bad news, and I will attempt to do so with the utmost tenderness and respect.
*Deep breath* Here we go...
I assume you all remember our dear friend, Ian the Pirate? Yesterday, I was sitting in the Sebastopol town square, painting away to my heart's content, when Ian the Pirate rode by on his skateboard. Upon recognizing me, he stopped and walked, head-bowed, to where I was sprawled on the grass with my easel and yoga mat. He greeted me solemnly, and confessed that he had some bad news.
"Murray died."
My hand immediately flew to my chest, where my heart was thumping uncontrollably. Murray, Murray the Rat, who, for the past three weeks, had served as something of a mascot for the Sebastopolian vagabonds, dead?
"Oh, Ian, I am so sorry. That must have been devastating."
"Yeah, it was major suckage at first, but I've come to terms with it now. He lived a full, happy life, and he died surrounded by lots of love. I threw him in the ocean. I think he would have liked that. It's gonna be tough without him, though. I mean, Murray's been with me since I left Michigan. I think I'm gonna need to find another [rodent] companion before I continue on my journey."
But of course, we all know deep in our hearts that no rodent could ever replace Murray the Rat.
Usually, on this blog, I tend to write in a humorous, lighthearted and now-and-then sarcastic manner. But, although it saddens me, I feel I must share with you all some bad news, and I will attempt to do so with the utmost tenderness and respect.
*Deep breath* Here we go...
I assume you all remember our dear friend, Ian the Pirate? Yesterday, I was sitting in the Sebastopol town square, painting away to my heart's content, when Ian the Pirate rode by on his skateboard. Upon recognizing me, he stopped and walked, head-bowed, to where I was sprawled on the grass with my easel and yoga mat. He greeted me solemnly, and confessed that he had some bad news.
"Murray died."
My hand immediately flew to my chest, where my heart was thumping uncontrollably. Murray, Murray the Rat, who, for the past three weeks, had served as something of a mascot for the Sebastopolian vagabonds, dead?
"Oh, Ian, I am so sorry. That must have been devastating."
"Yeah, it was major suckage at first, but I've come to terms with it now. He lived a full, happy life, and he died surrounded by lots of love. I threw him in the ocean. I think he would have liked that. It's gonna be tough without him, though. I mean, Murray's been with me since I left Michigan. I think I'm gonna need to find another [rodent] companion before I continue on my journey."
But of course, we all know deep in our hearts that no rodent could ever replace Murray the Rat.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Ian the Pirate: Part 1
It was a Thursday afternoon, a week before school let out. In other words, I should have seen it coming.
I was sitting on a bench in the Sebastopol town square (if you want to know more about the kind of shit that goes down in the town square, check out "Only in Sebastopol" ), reading a novel I had recently purchased at a library book sale, for the sole purpose of it having a nice cover. The novel wasn't really living up to its cover, so I lifted my eyes away from the page and examined my surroundings.
It's a sunny day in Sebtown, and the town square is adorned with the usual crowd: the gay couple with their small, obnoxious puppy, the Waldorf moms, sipping kombucha as their offspring strip down to their birthday suits and plunge into the fountain, and on the other side of the square, there's the ever-present tribe of teenage stoners, homeless people, and twenty-something vagabonds. Ever since the warm weather has kicked in, young wayfarers from all over California, the U.S., the WORLD--for that matter--have been flocking to Sebastopol. Hey, if I were homeless and looking for a good place to spend my summer, I'd probably head to Sebtown, too. Free dope, free kombucha, free food from accommodating individuals such as yours truly--what more could a wandering adolescent want? Not to mention the fact that the cops in Sebastopol are so oblivious to (or dare I say--accepting of?) the overwhelming presence of ganja in town that, on one particular occasion, they issued a ticket to several hippies for drawing with chalk in the gazebo, overlooking the fact that the subtle yet potent smell of weed surrounding the gazebo probably had something to do with the hippies' sudden urge to "express themselves".
A new batch of vagabonds have arrived, around 7-8 individuals between the ages of 18 and 25. Among them is a couple, a guy and a girl, who are lounging on a shady patch of grass with their fat, ginger cat, enjoying the sunshine. They look so peaceful, content, almost wistful, I can't help but sit there and gaze at them fondly. And then, out of nowhere, Pirate, headed straight for me. I am not kidding. Tall, wild-haired, maroon-skinny-jeans-clad gentleman wearing a purple pirate hat.
"What are you reading?" he asks.
"Oh, it's not that great...I only bought it because of the cover."
"That is kind of an amazing cover. May I sit?"
And before I know it, I am sitting on a bench in the town square, listening to a young, wandering Pirate tell me his life story, more or less.
3 months ago, at the age of eighteen, Ian left his hometown of Grand Rapids, MI (also the hometown of yours truly--coincidence? I think not!) to travel the U.S.A, Jack Kerouac-style. He arrived in Sebastopol three weeks ago, after a short-lived visit to Arcata. "I liked Arcata, but I did something really stupid and kinda messed it up." "Oh yeah?" "Yeah, I kinda stole some essential oils from a health food co-op. I kinda felt bad about it, but not really, cuz it totally wasn't a legit co-op. They didn't even have raw almond butter."
At this point in the conversation, Ian the Pirate begins to rummage around in his fanny pack. "Here," he says, handing me a peach-colored, smooth stone, in a silver-colored setting. "I feel like you should have this. Like, a higher power is telling me to give it to you." Now how is one expected to answer to that? I manage an awkward, "Oh, wow, that's so nice of you...I wish I had something to give you...do you want, like, a bagel or something?" "Nahhh, that's not why I gave it to you." An awkward silence follows, which Ian chooses to break by asking me if I like rodents. "Sure...?" What, is he going to produce a rat out of that majestic hat of his? Um, yes, apparently he is. "This is Murray," he says, handing me a fat, dark-haired rat. If not for the fact that I spent the majority of 4th grade raising two female rats, I would have freaked. I mean, it's not every day a pirate hands you a rat that has been living in his hat. At that point my friend Lauren arrived, and you can read about Ian the Pirate from her perspective at "Ian the Pirate: part 2"
I was sitting on a bench in the Sebastopol town square (if you want to know more about the kind of shit that goes down in the town square, check out "Only in Sebastopol" ), reading a novel I had recently purchased at a library book sale, for the sole purpose of it having a nice cover. The novel wasn't really living up to its cover, so I lifted my eyes away from the page and examined my surroundings.
It's a sunny day in Sebtown, and the town square is adorned with the usual crowd: the gay couple with their small, obnoxious puppy, the Waldorf moms, sipping kombucha as their offspring strip down to their birthday suits and plunge into the fountain, and on the other side of the square, there's the ever-present tribe of teenage stoners, homeless people, and twenty-something vagabonds. Ever since the warm weather has kicked in, young wayfarers from all over California, the U.S., the WORLD--for that matter--have been flocking to Sebastopol. Hey, if I were homeless and looking for a good place to spend my summer, I'd probably head to Sebtown, too. Free dope, free kombucha, free food from accommodating individuals such as yours truly--what more could a wandering adolescent want? Not to mention the fact that the cops in Sebastopol are so oblivious to (or dare I say--accepting of?) the overwhelming presence of ganja in town that, on one particular occasion, they issued a ticket to several hippies for drawing with chalk in the gazebo, overlooking the fact that the subtle yet potent smell of weed surrounding the gazebo probably had something to do with the hippies' sudden urge to "express themselves".
A new batch of vagabonds have arrived, around 7-8 individuals between the ages of 18 and 25. Among them is a couple, a guy and a girl, who are lounging on a shady patch of grass with their fat, ginger cat, enjoying the sunshine. They look so peaceful, content, almost wistful, I can't help but sit there and gaze at them fondly. And then, out of nowhere, Pirate, headed straight for me. I am not kidding. Tall, wild-haired, maroon-skinny-jeans-clad gentleman wearing a purple pirate hat.
"What are you reading?" he asks.
"Oh, it's not that great...I only bought it because of the cover."
"That is kind of an amazing cover. May I sit?"
And before I know it, I am sitting on a bench in the town square, listening to a young, wandering Pirate tell me his life story, more or less.
3 months ago, at the age of eighteen, Ian left his hometown of Grand Rapids, MI (also the hometown of yours truly--coincidence? I think not!) to travel the U.S.A, Jack Kerouac-style. He arrived in Sebastopol three weeks ago, after a short-lived visit to Arcata. "I liked Arcata, but I did something really stupid and kinda messed it up." "Oh yeah?" "Yeah, I kinda stole some essential oils from a health food co-op. I kinda felt bad about it, but not really, cuz it totally wasn't a legit co-op. They didn't even have raw almond butter."
At this point in the conversation, Ian the Pirate begins to rummage around in his fanny pack. "Here," he says, handing me a peach-colored, smooth stone, in a silver-colored setting. "I feel like you should have this. Like, a higher power is telling me to give it to you." Now how is one expected to answer to that? I manage an awkward, "Oh, wow, that's so nice of you...I wish I had something to give you...do you want, like, a bagel or something?" "Nahhh, that's not why I gave it to you." An awkward silence follows, which Ian chooses to break by asking me if I like rodents. "Sure...?" What, is he going to produce a rat out of that majestic hat of his? Um, yes, apparently he is. "This is Murray," he says, handing me a fat, dark-haired rat. If not for the fact that I spent the majority of 4th grade raising two female rats, I would have freaked. I mean, it's not every day a pirate hands you a rat that has been living in his hat. At that point my friend Lauren arrived, and you can read about Ian the Pirate from her perspective at "Ian the Pirate: part 2"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)