Flash of Unity

Flash mobs. During Vietnam they called them gatherings, mass crowds, the anti-war movement, peace protests, on and on. There was a purpose, a focus, sometimes fractional, but largely focused towards a larger idea. Now we gather and leave.

I did not live through Vietnam. My "first war" was Gulf War I in sixth grade and I remember a friend's mom being deployed. I remember the CNN coverage that I later studied in college as the CNN effect. There were yellow ribbons on the trees and discussion of the creation of desert camouflage for the U.S. Military.

As I watched the gatherings on Sunday night at the White House, Time Square, and beyond at first I was awed. Wow, this massive and spontaneous outpouring of patriotism seemed momentous. Yet, I was torn. As I listened to the debate and discussion in the days that have followed my mixed emotions have expanded.

My daily NPR fix highlighted the fact that the college students that poured into the streets and onto campus quads were in middle school on September 11. Aware of the crisis, but largely unable to comprehend the larger geopolitical impact. Hearing student interviews,  people spoke of thinking of Osama Bin Laden as Lord Voldermort or the Boogie Man. Really? Really? Your parents put you to bed telling you scary stories about how a terrorist organization is going to get you?

How can we have thousands of students stream out into the streets in the middle of the night who have exhibited no large opinion on the "hunt" to date. No group reaction to wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. No comment about whether or not this is or is not how the U.S. should be investing it's military resources.

So why the gathering? Because there is a yearning to be a part of something larger, something greater than themselves. To be a part of history. As long as it's done before the next "thing" comes up. Sustained engagement seems to be lacking. They're too busy. Class, socializing, exploring, interning, facebooking, repeat. We're all too busy. Too overwhelmed by the amount of information being shared or not shared. Able to click over to another channel rather than have the entire media consciousness be absorbed by a singular story. The fifteen minutes we allotted to this are up.

It has left me thinking hard about how do you harness that collective eagerness of a generation, a country so longing to be inspired. We inherently yearn for greatness. We want to be a part of something greater than ourselves. To leave the world better than we found it. Maybe this well intentioned outpouring can serve as spark for greater, authentic engagement. Not just something that lasts as long as your Capital Bikeshare Rental.

Just Walking My Dog

While you're tucked into your snuggie on the couch watching Dancing with the Stars or the Real Housewives, I'm bundled up to take my dog out for one last evening walk. Such is the life of urban yarders. You know those of us who have no yard so we have to trek out each and every time our dogs need to go out.

This late evening stroll around the neighborhood provides more than an excuse for my 80 lb. dog to stretch his legs. It also makes a visible statement about the level of awareness of  the neighborhood. Quiet streets, unattended cars and dark windows all are easy targets for random theft.

More than one evening in my years of walking the dog late I've come across a group of restless, thug-wanna-bes surveying car windows along the street. Without fail they size me up, then they size up the dog. There's no conversation, no threatening looks. Just a slow, deliberate walk that they know I see them and they see me and my dog.

Once around the block and more often than not, they're gone. If not, I might linger under a well lit street light for few extra minutes as a deterrent. This neighborhood service is fulfilled by all the late night walkers, perhaps slightly more effective if your dog is larger than a tea cup (but hey, let's not pick on the little guys).

We don't ask for thanks. We don't send you a bill. In fact, we're a strange little community that self-regulates. Didn't bring a bag to pick up after your dog? Yeah, we'll call you out on that. Dog off leash with too many dogs or people around? Yea, we'll call you out on that too. Dog being too aggressive towards other dogs? You get the idea.

No it's not perfect, there are a few bad eggs that don't pick up after their dogs. But don't take down the whole bunch of us. So when I hear neighbors complaining about how dogs are ruining the neighborhood, I get a bit irked. Complain about how all big dogs are aggressive. Aspire to become one of the many places that says dogs under 25 lbs. only. Let me know how that works out.

I'll still be walking my dog, helping keep the neighborhood safe. You're welcome.

Open Table

In college we held a weekly dinner. Unstructured and largely unplanned, we'd stretch a dinner to feed 15 or other weeks just 5 or 6. I can't even remember why we started, but I do remember the friends, the laughter, and that there always seemed to be enough.

When we first got married we had a few friends over for dinner almost every single week the first year. It was a great excuse for trying out all the kitchen gadgets and serving platters from our generous friends and family. I can't remember what we served, but I can recall many of the faces that came to our tiny apartment.

We've shared Thanksgiving and Easter with dear friends and occasionally with others we barely knew. For several holidays my brilliant chef-talented friend Alicia and I would create elaborate plans for the menu; and yet it is the wine and tasty roasted rosemary nuts that we consumed while laughing late into the night that I remember most.

Growing up my mother always espoused an open table at the holidays. Friends from college stranded far from home were always welcome. Friends close by were always over the second their own gatherings were done. There was always enough.

We've gotten busier, our dinner party habits have been broken. We still share our table from time to time, but the invitation doesn't reach as far as it used to and the faces aren't as varied. In the spirit of convenience, we have narrowed our circle rather than widen it further. Traded conversation for Real Housewives; homemade for home quick.

There are plenty of reasoned excuses to not make an open table a part of lives. But it strikes me as significant void being formed instead of filled. It doesn't have to be scheduled with the frequency and consistency of an after school special, but I believe inviting friends near and far, known and unknown to the table is the making of a life well lived.