A check-in on the profitability of the community

Dear diary,

I read a lot of poetry last night. That was fun. My sweetheart went out to dine with her old schoolfriend, so I was left alone. I enjoy poetry every day, so that was nothing abnormal; but the quantity of poetry that I read was much more than usual. I enjoyed like ninety billion poems. Cuz I had to kill about three hours.

What else is new? Well I just received an email from our neighbor: they invited a number of us (who live in this area) over to their house for National Neighborhood Night (that’s not really its name: I just can’t remember the exact wording and I already closed the Manila folder that contains the secret documents), which is like a big get-together for all the people who live in a given place. The event is supposed to be a potluck, which is defined as “a meal or party to which each of the guests contributes one or more dishes.” I think it’s interesting to note the specifics of this phenomenon, since it’s breaking news for me; so pardon me while I delve deep into detail — I wanna give a few direct quotations from the group communication, because it’s fresh in my mind right now, and someday perhaps I’ll forget how closely I considered these bits of information:

The email from the hosts sez:

We will provide hot dogs and brats, ketsup, mustard and relish. We will also have water and plastic glasses.

Then they also add a list of things that are needed:

What is needed: buns, paper plates, napkins, plastic forks, chips, and whatever else you would like to bring. If you want anything besides water to drink, please bring.

Now two of our fellow neighbors have already RSVP’d to the invite:

The first sez:

We will bring napkins and beans.

And the second sez:

We will bring buns and a salad.

Seeing how quickly these people have committed to playing their part, I’m eager to respond ASAP: for the list of wanted items is rapidly dwindling — all that’s left is “plates”, “forks”, and “chips”. If nobody else responds between the time I’m writing this and the time I send my missive, I think I’ll say something like:

We’ll be there, for sure! We’re excited to meet the new neighbors! We’ll certainly bring chips, since you can just buy them from the grocery store, right? — and I’ll try to think of something else to add: I can’t fix upon anything right now, and my sweetheart’s still asleep (I am writing this in the early morning); but, maybe when she wakes up, she’ll have good ideas.
     Also let me take this opportunity to apologize for the ugliness of our yard: we’ve only been here for a year, and this is the very first house we’ve ever owned (before this, we lived in an apartment complex, which had a contractor that took care of all the landscaping), so we’re trying to figure out what to do to improve the place: we promise it’ll look better eventually — we won’t give up; we’re just slow learners!

I always write way too much on an initial draft; that’s why I’m using this blog to get the sludge out of my system: perhaps I can clean up the above when I send my reply.

*

Hmm… now I’m preoccupied with this question: What food would neighbors like to consume at a get-together? What magic item could we bring which would make us appreciated? You have to think of the average person. You can’t just load up a wheelbarrow with wine and spirits, even tho everyone’d probably secretly enjoy that, because it’d look trashy: we all imagine we’re high-class — nobody wants to admit that their kingdom is not of this world.

My guess is that the average person would like to eat croissants, lightly buttered. And maybe salmon pâté.

But, the thing is, if you’re gonna bring seasoned meat or fish, you wanna first make sure that you’re getting your produce from the choicest of environs. You want to be able to tell your fellow party-goers that you netted the salmon yourself: you got it from a local waterfall, which you can personally guarantee is free of contaminants. Cuz people are rightly concerned about the amount of crude oil and microplastics that have recently been found in sea life.

We’re concerned with our food being poisoned, because we want to live as long as possible. That’s a pretty big compliment to whatever space-clerk created this thing we call life.

Now think about those scientists who are trying to find some trick that will allow us to live forever. What a strange concept. Since the advent of humankind, we’ve all accepted death as a fact: “we have an interval, and then our place knows us no more”, as Walter Pater always sez; but now, after all the preceding eons came and went, we the people of the current generation wish to come and just remain without ever going? Isn’t that like overstaying one’s welcome? For if the party is supposed to end at 8:30 PM, and yet the guests are having such a great time that they are reluctant to tear themselves away from the festivities — what should we say? Is this a compliment to the hosts of the get-together, or is it insulting to the notion of propriety?

What if we were able to look into the future and see that the National Neighbor Night in my neck of the woods never ended but instead catalyzed an immense movement of friendship and harmonious living to sweep the globe, till it ended up instigating World Peace (cuz all the hot dogs and brats are now complimentary) — is this something we want, or would that interfere with next week’s work plans? Cuz I don’t want you to be late for your important board meeting.

*

It’s no secret (is it?) that I’m mostly unfamiliar with business terminology; so, whenever I try to pass myself off as someone who knows what he’s talking about — like when I employed the above phrase “board meeting” — I immediately grow self-conscious and begin to wonder if I’m using the jargon incorrectly. Then I do a little lazy-research and discover that I was right; but, upon reading the definition of the concept, I fall in love with the wording of the scholars’ explanation — their language is so gorgeously stiff and dry.

A chairperson is the boss of the meeting and is appointed. Minutes must be made of each meeting. All members of the board are to follow what is decided.

What if neighborhood parties ran like THAT!?

Actually, I think it would work. I think that we’d reach World Peace either way — whether we try their idea of having a chairperson who is the boss and must be followed, or, on the other hand, if everyone were to choose my option of simply forgetting to die and thus entering eternal life after the fashion of a cartoon roadrunner who dashes off a cliff but doesn’t look downward and thus remains in midair and can’t fall.