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And onward to February, to veganism...

Timeless City

This picture is of my Grandma Mary (my dad's mother). Seeing New York City in the background, I can't help thinking about the history of people's wonder at this place. For so long it has been a destination for adventure, a place to start anew, and a space that provides anonymity and a delicious self-centeredness. A Billy Collins poem posted in the train says that the star-spattered ceiling of Grand Central Station orbits around 8,000,000 centers of the universe. We can be selfish here- but how long before we have to get over the awe and start being a person, a community member, a New Yorker? The sights and sounds of this place continue to inspire me, but I notice myself exclaiming "we live in New York!" a little less.

Laura and I joined the Park Slope co-op this week, est. 1973. We were introduced to the idea of the place by our neighbor Robert. Back in September he told me a bit of the history, the value, and the community of this grocery store, so I thought I'd stop by to check it out. Wrong. Not only can you not set foot into the co-op unless you are a member or a guest of a member, you also have to land an impossible spot in a two-hour orientation process. Spots are snatched up during weekly registration times throughout the week. When finally I landed one at the end of October, Sandy beat me to the punch. My Monday evening coincided with a suspended MTA and high winds.

After frustration mounted with the boutique grocery stores in my neighborhood, I decided to try again. Siri helped me schedule a Wednesday morning registration to perfection and I was able to take a morning off to go to the orientation. What impresses me about the co-op is the notion that everyone you see working is someone just like you. On the same level. Not an expert, but out of their element and doing their part. Cooperating. Each of the 16,000 members is required to complete a 2 hour 45 minute shift once every four weeks. This could be cashiering, bagging and weighing nuts or spices, or sweeping the aisles. I landed a job making soup with less-than-stellar produce at the local food shelf. To stay active, the work shifts must be done regularly and dependably. Laura and I joined immediately after the orientation, and then I took Paul for my first shopping trip there last night. A moderately sized grocery trip for dinner and produce for the week was only $22.00; they take a flat 21% mark-up instead of the normal 50-200% of other stores.

Joining the coop is one of the steps I find myself taking to wriggle further into the Brooklyn Community. I have been searching for church jobs, part-time teaching jobs, book clubs, yoga work-study exchanges, new restaurants. I am seeing my friendships differently, along with what I need from them. I think about what my next New York move would look like, my next New York job. The city is shrinking; the anonymity is fading; my adventure is becoming real life.