Neighborhood(s) Watch

I note this week, in dead of winter, snow and ice on the ground, it's time to dream of better things; it's time to buy Orioles tickets. Half the attraction is Baltimore itself. Before there was Camden Yards, there was Memorial Stadium - a plot of sacred greenery where Earl Weaver planted a tomato garden in the outfield. A stadium on 33rd Street, the beating heart of a lively neighborhood: loping down that boulevard of rowhouses, on Opening Day, the first gentle days of Spring, consuming a Tugboat Annie's sub, buying peanuts on the block, re-set time, embracing prospects of another promising season.

Our local rag printed an article last week on the re-location of a day shelter from the basement of our old church to a storefront downtown. To seal the deal, it was necessary to offer negative conditions: "It will not be a cold-night shelter, restaurant, classroom or gathering place." If it doesn't provide aspects of the latter three out of four, it'll be defeating its purpose by not recreating the qualities of the neighborhood, in facsmile, for which its guests are longing.

Scholars propose/debate economic models as to why the German homefront supported, or at least never rebelled, against Hitler. One theory describes a nation moving out from under Depression, revitalized by the implementation of a war-time economy, where an immediate solidarity-building communal sacrifice, yielded to the promise of greater riches to come. Another theory dismisses early sacrifice, emphasizing the back-end; after countries were conquered, those at home were satiated by a generous distribution of appropriated loot.

No matter what, people defend their homes, old or newly acquired, with ferocity. We know one of the worries the leaders of the exiles returning from Bablyon had upon their minds, as reflected bewtween the lines of several Psalms, is what might happen when they encountered non-exiled neighbors living in their former homes. Indeed, that turned out to be a precursor to a post World War II massacre by Gentiles, of Jews, returning to their former homes in Poland.

A tradition the Spotsyltuckian married into is Sunday dinner at the mother-in-law's featuring all-day Westerns on the tv. A Gunsmoke episode, a few weekends ago, featured Harry Morgan playing an erstwhile well-intentioned posse member who was alleged to have shot a more charming rogue in the back. Harry was ultimately harrassed to the tipping point of finding his daughter's cat hanging from a tree in the front yard, after which, the town contracted a sudden epiphany of good will, and he was welcomed back into the community with open arms.

No similar hometown ephiphany appears due for the neighbors of a Missouri family whose mother and daughter posed as a 16-year old boy on the internet only to harass the 13-year old girl next door, so meanly, she committed suicide. No hanging pets, yet, but death threats are just the tip of an iceberg which includes a brick through the window, fake 911 calls, deprivation of income, you name it. An elegant headline captures the classic sense of isolating any outcast: "Neighborhood shuns suspected tormenter in Internet suicide."

An epiphany of my own occurred at a camp where I once worked as counselor. One of the children was grossly overweight. He was also home schooled. The knee-jerk response in all conversations about home schooling is kids won't be socialized. Yet, here is a young person, who, at least in school, won't be tormented or shunned on account of his appearance. Is it possible he may grow up better socialized for not having had to endure the socialization, real or virtual, that was sure to be his lot if he'd attended public school? On the other hand, if the home schooling curriculum incorporates elements of far-right extremism, he may mature with great potential to shun and torment others.

I note this week an article in Politico, by Samuel Loewenberg, which begins, "Genocide in Sudan, a dictatorship in Myanmar and the prospect of nukes in Iran could make this the Year of the Sanctions." Yet, Loewenberg, goes on to detail corporate free trade advocates who consistently lobby against sanctions. As William Reinsch, a former Undersecretary of Commerce was quoted, "You go up and lobby on this, and they play the genocide card. They say you want to do business with mass murderers."

Could an efficient prosperous Germany have been built without resort to the unifying negative community building force of anti-semitism? What would such a Germany look like today? Is it feasible to 'sell' a shelter without offering up the things it's not? Is it possible to educate a child in isolation yet better socialize him than if he'd had to undergo the usual socialization of our times? Does an unrestricted free trade policy lead to a more open world that promises extended human rights, or does it too nonchalantly sweep humanitarianism under the rug?

An article in the Sun, last week, reflects the complexity, if not the impossibility of attaining purity, in this or any other, human endeavor. A fella in an otherwise vacant corner of an East Baltimore factory, roasts coffee beans every morning, the old fashioned way, providing superior tasting java to neighborhood eateries. The beans come from Costa Rica, Sumatra, India, Bolivia and Ethiopia, not all of whose governors are paragons of humanitarianism. He says, "I realized there was a bit of a vacuum in town for people who liked to know where their coffee is coming from."

Yes, and, no. If all I need think is the coffee comes from a Baltimore neighborhood with friendly connotations, I'm warm, cozy, fine. If I think beyond, though, to where the beans come from, I may confront a conumdrum like a vegan who drives a cute VW bug pasted with peace-sign bumper stickers even though her tires contain animal fat by-products. Is it necessary to trace every action to its source to attain the essence of purity? Is it possible in such a small world? If I picture my small part of the world as a neighborhood, it's envisionable, but they'll always remain the nagging doubts I've intellectually conditioned myself to live with, either too nonchalantly, or in the necessary practical interests of preserving a reasonably functional sanity.