On Banjos

As I've mentioned before, living in Cole definitely has a musical component. Generally loud latin music booming from a slammed Ford F-150. More fun is the nostalgia I feel when I see someone walk by with a "boom box" or "ghetto blaster" from back in the 80's cranking some Cube. (Oh, as a pasty white kid, I used to burn through those D-batteries listening to my Huey Lewis and The News and Hall and Oates Cassettes.)

But things are certainly changing, as evidenced by my Saturday afternoon experience, when I saw my first-ever banjo in Cole. Followed no more than 5 minutes later, my second. Man, the neighborhood is really going down the toytee now.

The first one belonged to this new white guy that moved into the tri-plex on our block. Can't decide if he looks more hippy-ish or like he fell off a bottle of Kentucky Deluxe. (Perhaps the banjo and beard was making me think Deliverance when I should have been thinking Pearl Street). Either way, he sat on the curb in front of his house for about 1/2 hour picking his banjo as he spoke on the phone with a buddy.

The second banjo sighting was from a very goth-looking girl that came walking by, no doubt heading to the fixed-gear house up on the 3600 block. Six months ago I never saw another cyclist in the 'hood. Now, each and every day I see the folks from the house come and go, like some flock of vultures. I can only imagine what "The Collective" thinks of this wheeled (but brake-less), white invasion.

Yes, two--Count 'em, two banjos on my block in the span of 5 minutes. And to make it even more strange, they didn't even know one another! No acknowledgement of one another. No nod, no hellos, and despite my fingers being crosssed, no dueling banjos. I so wanted to hear what hippies and goth kids play on their banjos.

I still can't get my mind around the odds that two different, unaffiliated banjo-owners would come within five feet of one another--In Cole. The odds must be something close to two comets passing within 50 miles of one another, or of Al Gore buying a Hummer. Heck, Kenyon Martin winning a spelling bee might be even more probable than what I witnessed.

But it happened, honest. Not sure what it means, but it sure shows the neighborhood is rapidly changing. Perhaps we've hit some sort of critical mass?

I've heard that just before an area becomes yuppified, that's when the artists and urban fixed gear crowd moves in. Yup, "The Collective" is going to be pissed.