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| Seriously? What the hey? |
As you all will remember, I wrote about the catfight that erupted between two neighbors over yard debris. One neighbor had her landscaper blow her into the neighbor's yard, and when that neighbor blew her back, things got catty, and very mean girls meets junior high schoolish nanny nanny bo bo.
And coming up was the neighborhood potluck, and folks wanted an update about what happened when the two hellcats met up at what is usually a big event for the neighborhood.
Well, we had the neighborhood potluck, and NEITHER party showed up. So instead of fireworks, we had a wet sparkler.
But what was really disappointing was that the neighborhood potluck was, up until COVID, and fun and festive affair for us in the neighborhood. You had people of all ages and backgrounds. And if you were new, you were introduced by neighbors to people they know.
In fact, for an event that used to draw 100-125 people 12 years ago, this year only 75 RSVP'd that they would be there. Of those seventy-five only forty to fifty showed up.
But by dessert, which the people who were supposed to bring didn't, the group was down to less than 30. A lot of people just ended up leaving after dinner with an Irish Goodbye.
No, each street is assigned a duty. If you live on X, then you bring a main dish. If you live on Y and Z, you bring a side. Q and R bring an hors-d'oeuvre for the cocktail hour, and finally, M brings dessert. (X and M are the longest streets in the neighborhood, the rest are short.)
So X Street stepped up, and everyone else, well, just came to drink and socialize and treat it like Wine-O-Clock. Hell, the M Street people only could muster a frozen cheesecake and a "vegetarian soy "Puddin'' with currants. Dutifully, I tried it, after all someone made it. It was something that I had not had before and the flavor was, well, let's say there was a flavor there. And I hate currants, but I ate some.
It's kind of hard to have a progressive potluck when people don't hold up their end of the deal.
It's not the only time recently this has happened. They treat any event like this as wine-o-clock.
Worse still, the progressive potluck was an event designed to help people meet the people in their neighborhoods. Now it seems to have been taken over by unsocialized packs of wine-o-clock mommies and bro-dads.
And these play date parents, do not let non-parents in. Nope, they don't know what to do with you.
But the 30-45 crowd only socializes within their clusters. And maybe that's the way things are changing toward. I just find it really sad.
So this may be our last event. And if we go next year, I am not wasting money on making food that doesn't get eaten and gets thrown out.
But one thing is for sure, I am detaching from this place. In my mind, we've already moved.
After all that hoopla I can't say I blame you. I detach myself too.
ReplyDeleteProgressive dinners---
ReplyDeleteBack in my church days-don't ask-I have been to a few progressive dinners. These were dinners where one had to travel. One house does soup/salad, another does main course, and we can't leave out one does desert. We would drive from house to house and it was fun.
Another variation of this is my gay book club back in the day. Gay men would get together to discuss a gay PAPERBACK that was chosen. Let me tell you choosing the book for the next month was more continuous than the book discussion. I digress. Whoever hosted would prepare the dinner. Once everything was said and done the host would say for example the feast cost $100.00 and then the cost would be divided among the folks attending. The average participation was around 20 or so gay men. A great time was had by all. I tell you some of those gay boys can cook. We are talking from soup to nuts.
I think there's a very good reason why most people don't get to know their neighbours. They're usually a load of cunts. We're quite fortunate; we speak to ours - but, socialise with anyone in the street? Nah. Jx
ReplyDeleteSeems like the Neighbors left aren't worth socializing with. In my Mind I Moved years before I actually did from affluent subdivision Hell. We now moved back to an Older established Community that is close knit and we really like our Neighbors and they're invested in their Neighborhood, some have been here since the 1960's and Multi-Generational Owners are the norm, few ever leave. We were fortunate to snag one of the Mini Farms and are glad to also be rid of an HOA, they are the Devil.
ReplyDeleteHow fortunate that you're able to move. I refuse to take part in such activities. First off... pot lucks. If the tiny germ factories running around screaming because Mummy let them have a bit of sugar aren't bad enough, there's the prospect of eating food prepared by others in who knows what kind of hell hole of a kitchen. Then there are the generational differences and cliques. As if I would ever want to go back to high school. I can stay home and be ignored. There used to be social norms... a means of being social, but those basement dwellers with their tats, micro brews, and gaming systems never bothered to learn. At such events, we are all to be a bit of a politician, hand gladding and what not - not these folks. Talk to one of them and they look at you as if you just walked off the set of Star Trek. Sorry, dear. These events are dying for good reason. They made for crappy occasions in the best of times - and these? Ain't that, sugar.
ReplyDelete