Yesterday we went to a block party. What a lot of memories that inspires. The same block where we met our new neighbors at a party 35 years ago, just a couple of weeks after we moved in and just a couple of days after Olivia was born. Some of the same neighbors, too. I didn’t take any pictures, although there was much that was picture-worthy. Most things were a lot like 1980. Lovely food, that goes without saying. Frozen daiquiris in pretty glasses. Expectant mothers. Proud fathers. And children, the youngest of whom, Jaaz, was just a couple of weeks older than my granddaughter Aloisa. Women in colorful saris. (One difference from 1980). There was a stroller/bike parade. Just before we arrived, there was a fox sighting in the yard of the house on the corner. (That’s new too, along with the deer menace.)
So many things have happened in those 35 years, and I have changed so much, that it was almost surreal how much the same the party was. Comforting, in a way, and, in other ways, challenging. Certainly I feel that I’m “making it” in Toledo, as are all my neighbors. That’s never been enough for me, but I’m not sure quite what else I’m working toward right now.
I’ve just finished reading two books by Jo Walton, The Just City and The Philosopher Kings. At least the characters in these books know what they are seeking. If you enjoy philosophy, and if you want to be thought-provoked, I recommend them.
The heaviest penalty for declining to rule is to be ruled by someone inferior to yourself.” Plato, The Republic
Block parties on my street are an annual reminder of the years passing too. I used to know everybody and all their kids – now I’m one of the elders who is asked about the old days – 26 years ago when we moved here. I’m reading a book about the collapse of civilizations at the end of the Bronze Age – due to climate change and the complications of (almost) global trade. Nothing ever really changes.