Sebastopol Du-uu-uude

I was with an ex-co-worker and some friends of friends who were visiting from southern California.  Somehow the conversation turned to how one of them desired to learn more about the local culture during his week in west Sonoma County.  He was asking how he could more aptly fit in.
"Well," one women wanted to know, "do you want to be a 'Sebastopol Guy' or a 'Sebastopol Dude?'"
Another guy interjected, "And then there is Sebastopol Dude and Sebastopol Du-uu-uude."
I should be clear that I personally do not know the distinctions between all these.  But everybody laughed.
He replied, "I think I am too old to be a dude.  So how about Sebastopol Guy?"
"Do you mean a SNAG?" I asked.
Someone wanted to know what a SNAG was.  Several of us answered in unison:  "Spiritual new age guy."
Troy, aspiring Sebastopolian, responded:  "I don't think I am a SNAG."
"Well, you will fit right in," I maintained.  "Most SNAGs do not think they are SNAGs."
Several members of our little group smiled, nodding their heads.  Most everyone had ideas for fitting in as Sebastopol Guy:
Sit in front of Whole Foods chatting for long periods of time.
When you say good-bye to someone, add "Blessings" at the end.
Go to a yoga class or two.  Or at least carry a yoga mat around. 
Consume something that contains green tea.
Attend Soul Motion.  Someone asked what this is, and the woman explained, "A conscious dance-movement class on Sunday mornings."
Which led to the next suggestion:  "Use the word 'conscious' a lot.  You know, if you garden or do bookkeeping, make sure it is conscious gardening, conscious bookkeeping."  (This reminded me of a flier I recently saw for Conscious Housekeeping.)
Buy a dream journal.
Learn at least three attributes about your astrological sign.  Troy is a Libra.  I think he was told at least eight attributes by the people in this little crowd.  Because the three attributes ended up being so easy, someone said it would be more impressive if he found out his rising sign and was able to converse about it.  "Does everyone have a rising sign?" he asked.
A woman put her arm around him.  "Oh, Troy.  You have a lot to learn this week."
Try Kombucha.  Troy was not excited about this, but he did agree to at least try organic beer or wine.
Troy reached into his jacket pocket.  "This is very involved.  I think I need to make a list on my palm pilot."  And after a few seconds, being the quick learner, he added:  "I think I need to make a list - consciously of course."


Favorite line of the week:
"Two astrological forecasts ago..."

Shrek and the Shiva lunchbox

I feel compelled to explain that my life does not consist of one Sebastopol encounter after another.  I've had several individuals remark recently that I have a lot of quirky things happening to me all the time.  One asked if she could follow me around.  I can assure you, many days/afternoons/weekends of mine are quite mundane.  Nothing seemingly out of the ordinary will happen for a week, and I only blog about a twenty minute humorous encounter.  The remaining 6 days and 23+ hours of my week are un-earth-shattering.  (If I were to write about my everyday life, the blog would need to be renamed Sebastoboring...)

I was at the teen center searching for a flier for a Celtic performance I was certain I had seen a few days earlier.  Unable to find it I was standing by a table perplexed, trying to remember where else I had seen one.  There were a few children waiting for a class to start.  One came up to me and asked if I knew where their teacher was.  I told her that I was sorry, I did not.  What class were they here for?
"Yoga for kids."
Yes, I should have guessed.  They were all in children's versions of yoga attire.
I noticed she had a lunchbox with a Hindu god on it.  "Do you know who that is?"
She looked at it and replied, "An Indian lady."
A boy a bit taller with the same color hair came up behind me.  "That is Shiva.  It's a Shiva lunchbox."
"That does look like Shiva," I noted.  "Do you know anything about him?"
"It's a her."
Actually Shiva is a him, but I could see from the depiction how he could be under that impression. "Did you know one thing about Shiva, is that he is considered the god of yoga?"
They both looked at the lunchbox.  After a moment the boy said, "What I really wanted was a Shrek lunchbox."
"So you like the movie Shrek?"
"Yeah."
"Who is your favorite character?"
"Puss in Boots."  His sister nodded in agreement.
They placed the lunchbox on the table, and the container depicting the yogi dragon slaying god produced some mango fruit rolls.
"So, I take it you would rather have a Puss in Boots lunchbox than a Shiva lunchbox?" I queried.
"Yeah, but my mom got this for us.  She said if we could find a Shrek lunchbox at Whole Foods we could buy it," he explained.  "But we couldn't find one.  So we ended up with this one."


Favorite line of the week:
"I am trying to find a lunar calendar.  This is Sebastopol.  It shouldn't be that hard."



(You can also "like" Sebastoblog on Facebook)

Vanilla Vortex: the Sequel

Seeing how Sara (from the previous post) is far more extroverted than I am and has no qualms asking strangers random questions, I decided to lure her back to Sebastopol with promises of all the vanilla lattes she could consume.
The first question I had for her, based on several readers' inquisitive remarks, was if she was able  to find vanilla frozen yogurt after our last encounter.  She was (and highly recommended Honeymoon where she found it). Latte and chai in hand, we set out to conduct a highly random survey of pedestrians near downtown.  We were still curious what people thought of the Sebastopol vortex.
The first small group we encountered had mixed feelings about the vortex.  Two agreed that it existed.  Of the two, one thought it was a Sebastopol thing and the other thought it was a northbay thing.  Maybe even just northern California in general.  "And Sedona," she added. 
The other two did not think such a vortex existed but one did admit there was a distinct "vibe" to Sebastopol that was different than other parts of Sonoma County.  
As they walked away, Sara echoed:  "A different 'vibe' in Sebastopol than the other cities around here?  Yes, because of the vortex!"
The next small group of people gave similar answers.  We decided to hang out in front of a crystal shop to see if the people going inside had distinctly different opinions about our inquiry.   I was a sociology major in college, so this made me very happy.  Compare and contrast.
I mentioned sociology to Sara, who told me she had majored in comparitive religion.  "What do you do now?"  I asked.
"Teach zumba."
We both took sips of our drinks.  "Do you ever compare Hinduism and Christianity, you know, just for kicks?" 
She smiled and shook her head.   "No, but that's a good idea.  Maybe I could charge for that.  I do need to figure out some supplemental income." 
A few live ones walked up to the shop.  Sara asked the inevitable question.  The couple both nodded their heads.  "Yes," the man said.  That was it.  It was rather anti-climatic.
I tried to think of a good follow-up, but Sara beat me to it.  "Do you ever get caught in the vortex?"  She had an investigative tone to her voice.
Again they both nodded.  "Yeah," the woman replied.
Sara looked at me as if to say, "Okay, I'm out."
"What is the vortex like?" I ventured.
The guy looked at us as if he had conversations like this all the time.  "You know.  Chill.  It's just very chill and mellow here."
We smiled at them and they went inside.  "Too chill for me," Sara surmised.  "I think I need another latte.  Venti."


Favorite line of the week:  
"I don't dislike fairies.  Don't get me wrong.  But we have fairy dust coming out our ears right now."

Vanilla and vortices

It was a congested post-holidays afternoon on Main Street.  I had spent a while in Copperfield's but there were so many shoppers I was sitting on a bench in front of the store, hoping the crowd would thin out.  Busy thinking about what I needed to get done that day I didn't realize someone had sat down next to me, sipping a vanilla latte.  She apparently really liked this drink because she couldn't stop talking about it.  Although, she admitted, it was making her crave vanilla frozen yogurt.
We were talking about downtown, and with little segue she turned to me and asked, "Is there a Sebastopol vortex?  I feel like I get caught in this vortex when I come over here."
I started to answer but she continued.  "Maybe it's Sonoma County in general.  I lived in New York for a while and the energy here is just so different.  I drive up 101 and when I cross the border for Sonoma County I kind of go into a funk."
"A good funk or bad funk?"  I inquired.
"Just a funk.  Not a bad one."
"An instructor I had called it the 'Sonoma coma,'" I told her.
She laughed.  "Is that what it is?  Well, whatever it is....  It's like I come over here and there are soporific essential oils emanating through the air."
We talked for a few minutes, and then because Sara was on a caffeine high ("third latte that day" I was informed) and/or because Main Street was swarming with people and/or because she was quite gregarious, we decided to conduct a survey.  Did other people think there was a Sebastopol vortex?
The first couple we asked grinned amusedly.  The woman said, "I don't know."  The man she was with answered, "Absolutely."
"Do you think it is Sebastopol, or Sonoma County in general?" Sara quizzed him.
The man contemplated this for a moment and said, "If it is Sonoma County in general then Sebastopol is the epicenter."
Well-put, we both decided.
Our next passers-by were two elderly women.  When my new polling friend asked them the question, they turned around to look behind them.  They did not understand the repeated question, which was not hard to believe.  So my out-going benchmate elaborated upon it.  "Does the energy feel distinct here?  Do you feel different when you come to Sebastopol?"
One woman shook her head.  The other woman said, "I live around here.  But I remember when I first moved here, I kept feeling like I should do yoga."
Sarah's arms flew up so quickly I thought the latte would fly out of her hand.  "That's what I'm talking about!  Have you ever felt that anywhere else you've lived?"
The woman conceded she had not.
A younger woman with neon green heart sunglasses sat down on the bench, peering at a small notebook in her hand.  Sara asked the question again.  Without looking up she responded, "Oh yeah.  If you're not grounded you'll get caught in the vortex and it's kind of like being in an unconsecrated temple."
Sara and I glanced at each other.  From the looks on our faces it appeared we did not quite know what she meant.
The woman looked at us through her sunglasses.  "I carry a big chunk of amethyst in my purse.  Because of the energy around here.  It can be discombobulating."
Sarah sipped her coffee.  She started to say something, but the woman cut her off, talking about something to do with one's third eye and certain types of crystals.  I couldn't follow it.
After Sunglasses Gal wandered off Sara leaned toward me and remarked very matter-of-factly, "Some people get trapped in the vortex.  And they can't get out."

Favorite line of the week:
Three people were speaking German in front of Whole Foods. While I did not understand anything being said, I heard:  "Sebastopol.... New Age.... Sebastopol.... New Age.... New Age.... New Age...." sprinkled throughout the conversation.



(You can "like" Sebastoblog on Facebook)