Tie-dye misrepresentation

I was standing in line with a guy behind me who looked as if he had frequented bars during the seventies and still dressed that way.  He said to the cashier, "What's with the organic soap? Does soap really have to be organic?  Isn't it already clean?"

A friend told me, referencing the last blog post about the curmudgeonly gentleman complaining about hippies who hoard:  "I think I know who that was!  I was at Hard Core cafe a few weeks ago and there was this older man complaining about people recycling.  I couldn't believe I was in Sebastopol and somebody was railing on recycling!  Then I realized it wasn't recycling per se - but people who think every plastic fork and tissue paper gets recycled.  He went on about it for a while!"

From a soon-to-be ex-Waldorf mom:  "We are going to go home and eat sugar and do something really crazy like watch a Disney movie!"

I was at the Sonoma library and made a comment to a librarian about the assortment of teas they have available.  I noted that is not the case at the Sebastopol library.  Somebody said, "What's available for patrons there?  Wine?"
(There is no shortage of wine or wine-tasting in Sonoma, so I'm not sure why this was amusing.  But a number of individuals around me laughed.)

"There are a lot of temples around here, a lot of unconsecrated temples..."

"They do not have Burger King and Round Table in Sebastopol.  That is not true!"
Me:  "They do - I promise."

This was a status update from the Sierra foothills, but it could have so easily happened in west county.
(thank you Ken, Sebastoblog suppporter):

Bereft of energy this morning, I put the least effort possible into dress and grooming. I opted for a rainbow tie-dyed tee shirt I picked up as a souvenir of theatre camp, and my usual pair of khakis. My cheeks unshaved, my ever-lengthening silver mane untamed by hair product, I gave my appearance no further thought, and staggered to the cafe, hoping against hope for the strength to get a modicum of work done.

At day’s end, I sauntered home along the main street of my new hometown, past the shops and the innumerable wine-tasting rooms, when a stranger approached me hurriedly and waved me down with both arms. He was tall, lanky, and young, with a knit cap, a scruffy beard, and both his upper front teeth distinctly missing. He seemed relieved to see me.
“I’ve been looking all over for somebody to give me a nugget of weed so I can go home and forget my troubles.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled awkwardly, caught off-guard, “I don’t have any.”  I didn’t add that I never do.  Not my thing.  He wasted no time in wandering off, muttering over his shoulder, “You shouldn’t wear a tie-dye shirt.”
My comment:  "Oh I wish that had happened in Sebastopol, would have been such an epic entry..."

Ken:  "In Sebastopol you wouldn't have to limit yourself to people wearing tie-dye.  You'd just go stand out in front of Whole Foods and ask people."  :)

Me:  "You can stand outside the *library* and ask people."  :)

I was speaking to somebody who used to work as a receptionist for a spa in Sebastopol.  She remembered a woman coming in and saying, "I'd like to get a massage.  Not a healing." Enunciating:  "Just. A. Mas-sage."

Another Ford Focus:
FOCUS
    on
Kuan Yin

Sebastopol bumper sticker (thanks Emily):
Goat ropers need love too*


License plates:
2 NERDS
ANIMUSE
TREE TOP




* from Urban dictionary:  "Goat roper is a wannabe rancher or cowboy poser.  Goat ropers have the 4x4 pickup and the cowboy hat, but no cattle, horses, brain or land."



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Even an oil change can be spiritual

An acquaintance frequents Hard Core cafe.  She said there is a local customer who complains regularly.  His most recent rant has been about "hoarding hippies."  Neighbors he has who pride themselves in being unconventional meanwhile having homes and garages and shacks "full of crap they don't need and won't give away to Good Will.  Or at the very least have a garage sale. But having a garage sale is too mainstream for them."  

A while back my friend and her daughter were at Slice of Life.  "I had to run over to Whole Foods to grab something and saw a man dressed as a lobster eating at a table in front of the store.  I went back to Slice of Life and said to my daughter:  'There's a guy dressed as a lobster eating in front of Whole Foods' and she responded completely straight-faced: 'Of course there is.'"

A friend told me, "You were right!  Sebastopolites are not adjusting well to the the changes at Whole Foods.  One woman in line told me she can't deal with all the new colors.  A cashier told me people have been peeved they can no longer walk in the exit doors."  (I would be one of those people.)
I was speaking with someone who works there about the changes and that Whole Foods was overdue for some upgrades.  I noted, "The store is finally coming out of the nineties."  To which he replied:  "Let's be honest, it was more like the seventies."

From our Milk and Honey local informant:  "You have me listening to random snippets of conversation now.  Today's gem at the farmer's market -  'Who in their right mind would say no to organic kale?'"

I was leaving Whole Foods one evening when I heard somebody telling the person they were sitting next to they had to leave for a massage appointment.  I was too busy envying the massage but a guy sitting behind him observed:  "Someone is always leaving for a massage or acupuncture or an astrology appointment.  Why doesn't anyone ever have to leave to get their oil changed?  Or go buy light bulbs?"  
Second guy, after a moment:  "What an astrologer should do is set up a table where people get their oil changed. Then they could do both."

A friend of mine was leaving Community Market and heard someone say to whoever was with him:  "I can't go to this family thing without some kava kava first."

My sister when we were driving near Aubergine:
"Look, even the pizza delivery cars in Sebastopol are Priuses!"

I was at a mainstream (for Sebastopol) dining place and noticed they served kombucha and Revive. I commented on this to the dude behind the counter who muttered, "Well, you gotta keep the locals happy."


Favorite t-shirt:
I LIKE YOUR ENERGY

Favorite bumper sticker:
"Don't believe everything you read on an organic cookie label"


License plates:
SHHHH
WISDOM8
VEG ON

Whole Foods is no exception

I was strolling behind two shoppers who were visiting from Chicago.  Because I have become the Merciless Trolling Blogger I was attempting to listen to their conversation without being too obvious.  It was mostly about restaurants and the weather.  As I was about to walk away one said standing in front of a dozen tarot decks, "What is it with tarot cards?  I've never seen so many kinds of tarot cards.  Are these household items here?"  As they moved away I saw that it wasn't just traditional tarot - there were animal spirit decks, goddess decks, angel cards, a steampunk tarot and a dolphin deck.  (And I wasn't even at Milk and Honey.)

From a friend who used to live in Sonoma County:  "I like your blog about the land of the crystal people."

Whole Foods has been going through a transformation, and I've heard some diverse comments about the changes:
"Have you seen Whole Foods?  I can't believe what they are doing!  It looks like Costco now!"
(It has lost the granola-crunch feel to it, but I don't know if I'd go so far as to compare it to Costco.  Just morphing into a Coddingtown Whole Foods.)
"Has anyone noticed it's all about wine now?"
When the former eating area was cleared out for a few days and empty:  "What is this?  An area where you can do yoga now?"
A cashier told me one woman complained to her, "Everything is too complicated here now.  It was a big comfort to come here and know where everything was.  Now I have to think when I walk in."
"Change is one of the only constants in the universe, and Whole Foods is no exception."

A flier at the Nectary explained they would be closing early on a certain day that week, noting they would be "open for Blissness as usual" the following day.

My friend was visiting from the Minnesota who used to live in Sebastopol.  She commented, "There are some people around here who could use a good dose of midwestern groundedness.  But on the other hand, I do miss good massage therapists.  And it's next to impossible to find a fucking decent yoga class where I live."

Someone suggested I try an anti-anxiety cannabis tincture from one of the dispensaries.  I told her I didn't have a cannabis card.  "You must have a friend that has one!  You live in Sebastopol, just go stand out in front of Whole Foods and ask someone if you can borrow theirs!"


More license plates:
TRYXTER
MAKE DRT
BEEE LUV
BLOO BIU


When you go to park in Sebastopol...
(thanks, Emily)

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West county market celebrity status

From my community mole:
"Last night some dreadlocked dad told his acting up dreadlocked son to 'be respectful'!"  It is not often one sees multi-generational dreadlocked dudes. 

A woman I was talking to at Ives Park told me she's in a play group and one day the toddlers were playing a game where everyone would have to do what one of the kids would yell.  "It was like, 'everybody run!  Everybody fall down!  Everybody clap!'  One little boy shouted, 'Everybody meditate!'  And three or four kids dropped to the ground, cross-legged and everything!  They were taking it so seriously they didn't even notice how loud all the moms were suddenly laughing!" 

This shopper I briefly chatted with told me one of her renters watches games at the Community Market bar. "Where else could he go watch a basketball game and drink a bunch of Kombucha?" she mused.  "It's his happy place."

When Ken M. shares my posts, he always has good Sebasto-comments to go along with them:
 From our friend the Blog Lady, here's your latest update from Sebastopol, CA...
  - where beauty is in the third eye of the beholder.
  - goddesses' country.
  - where the streets are lined with yoga mats.
  - the Biggest Little Yoga Studio in the world.
  - where everyone wears the yoga pants in the family.
  - where sage advice means how to smudge your home, office, and car interior.  And gym locker.  And tote bag.  And post office box.
 - where your karma runs over your dogma with your Yogi at the wheel.
(I personally have smudged a lot of things, but would like to go on record as to never having smudged my post office box.)

In response to the name of the last post ("I'll have white wine and a Snickers"), my neighbor Daniela noted:  "I bet you could get both at the Rialto!"
(Of course I would be more apt to get white wine with their [non-organic] popcorn.)

A few people have noticed I got customer of the month at Community Market.  One friend told me, "See, you are famous!"  People say this sometimes to me regarding the blog, and I tell them, "Yeah, Sebastopol Whole Foods famous."  Now I can say, "Whole Foods/Community Market famous."
From another comrade:  "So the Sebastoblogger got customer of the month at Community Market?  These things are so political..."


License plates:
AH PINOT
LITENDUP
(not to be confused with NLITEN UP, LI-10 UP or LITEN UP)

I'll have white wine and a Snickers

My friend and I saw a Celtic band at the community center.  While there was no shortage of wine if you wished to purchase it, the desserts were disappointing.  Eyeing a basket full of Twix and Snickers bars, my friend wanted to know:  "Where are the Sebastopol desserts?  No vegan, healthy cacao desserts here?  What is wrong with this picture?!"

In my Bollywood class another dancer told me he used to live in Sebastopol.  "People there were so nice.  You'd come to a stop and the drivers would be like 'you go,' 'no, you go.'  I'd think, 'Somebody fucking go, I've got to get to work!"

"This little piggy went to market...
this little piggy stayed home in their yurt...
this little piggy played in the pesticide-free garden
this little piggy played in the dirt."

While asking for a root beer at the Rialto, I requested little ice in the drink.  The worker showed me how much he put in and I approved.  "I'm sorry to be picky, it's just hard to pay four dollars for a cup of ice," I explained.
He shrugged.  "One woman got mad at us last week for not having an organic popcorn option.  This is nothing."

My former co-worker when we were at the Barlow last Saturday watching the tourists:
"Are these people walking around here from Sebastopol?  They are not dressed like they are from Sebastopol.  And they are walking around drinking glasses of wine.  Sebastopolians walk around drinking yerba mate."

According to an animal medicine source:  "People are trying to make bats the new owl." 

A woman told her neighbor at the farmer's market last weekend:  "I'm waiting for a friend whose getting a massage, listening to drumming and eating seaweed salad.  There's really been no sign of Easter all day.  Except for pictures of Easter baskets I got from my grandchildren this morning, I would not have even known it was Easter Sunday."

I walked up behind someone at Community Market staring at several rows of healthy juices, herb-infused shakes and kombucha.  After a minute I asked him if I could grab a drink.  He turned to me.  "Oh, I'm sorry.  I was in the zone.  I'm not used to such a selection of healthy drinks.  They don't have that where I'm from."

Often when I emerge from my yoga class I walk past several people smoking who have stepped outside from the Main Street bar.  This week one slightly-intoxicated fellow asked me if I had just done yoga.  To which I replied yes.  He said:  "You have that yoga smile.  And you're wearing yoga pants."
Me:  "I have to say, yoga pants are not necessarily an indication of actually going to yoga in Sebastopol."


More license plates:
SLONOMA
LVNG JOY
ARIES I B
CHAI 5S





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Groovy hip peas

Talking to someone about my blog, she summarized Sebastopol culture in her opinion in one statement:  "You've seen one white dreadlocked guy, you've seen them all."

Another tale from my yoga classmate who just moved back here from Fresno:
"I'm sitting in my car at the Barlow.  I'd been backing out when someone called and since I'm used to Fresno's suffocating summer heat I don't turn the car off.  When I look up a woman has materialized in front of my car waving her arms in front of her face like my car stinks and is shouting 'turn off your car, you're ruining the environment!'  I would have been mad but all I could think was that never happened in Fresno."

My sister's rant after my last blog posting:
"Thank you Cami for channeling so well the enlightened sarcasm we as a community can only obtain when we've reached the place of nirvana where being able to laugh at ourselves comes only with the knowing we are all the authors of this cosmic joke of a life we are living."
(and for those few people in west county who don't know my sister, this was also dripping with [enlightened] sarcasm)

In front of a few people in line at Whole Foods yesterday, I heard a woman say to her friends:  "We are in Sebastopol.  We try new things when we come here.  Look at these drinks and their containers.  They look really groovy so they must be good."

A library worker told me she overheard this comment a while back:
"No, this is the library.  Not Kinko's.  And not a spiritual book store.  There aren't random Wiccan books on the shelves just because it's Sebastopol."

A Ford Focus I pulled up behind, with a message:
Focus on 
  peace

From a former co-worker, who does not live in Sebastopol but has worked here long enough to realize:
"One of my coworkers (who lives in a yurt. So you think he'd understand Sebastopol better) was complaining about how he can't find a woman because they all think they are goddesses and he doesn't really get it. I responded that he shouldn't say that to any of the women in Sebastopol because that's probably his problem. Plus, all women are goddesses! But if he doesn't want a goddess Sebastopol is the wrong place to be looking."


License plates:
HIP PEA
BLIEVE IT
DG HAIR
SOL RISE 

The renaissance at Ragle

You know how you go for a walk in Ragle park, and you come around a bend and there are two women trying on renaissance clothes?  Attempting to pick out which ones will look the best in a picture.  And then twenty minutes later, in a different area of the park, you see two boys dueling with toy swords.  One is wearing a feudal outfit.  You think, somehow these two incidents must be related.  But it turns out they are not.

An email from a reader:
"Only in Sebastopol would you see fliers for math tutors that are kind and supportive."

Outside Pacific Market I saw some girls selling Girl Scout cookies.  One was talking/shouting about different kinds of cookies, and then suddenly started doing the "gluten-free dance" as she called it.  I asked the adult behind her if there were, in fact, gluten-free cookies now.  She shook her head.  "No, lots of gluten and lots of sugar still."  Slightly shrugging her shoulders she pointed to the girl who was continuing to boogie.  "I have no idea what this is about."

A fellow yoga classmate has just moved back to Sebastopol after living in Fresno for a number of years.  She was telling us the things that happen here that would never happen in Fresno:  for example, the sheer number of places you can buy fermented beverages around town - this does not exist in Fresno.

A customer behind me in line at Whole Foods disclosed she got a speeding ticket earlier that day.  She ended up telling us that she wasn't that bothered by it.  "I'm not upset, I don't know why.  Maybe it's total denial, or maybe the meditation CDs I've been listening to are working."

"I know she parked in this parking lot.  Hers is the one with the Zoroaster Temple bumper sticker on it."
And the most Sebastopol bumper sticker of the week:
I LOVE LOVE

My four year-old niece:  "Aunt Cami, why don't you have a Prius?"

"Slice of Life has changed some, it's different owners.  The menu is new and improved.  And they remodeled inside."
"Yeah, it doesn't look so west county ghetto any more."


License plates:
OM TARA
R YOU KND
ZENWOLF
SUN BEAR







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