part 5

not sure if i'm finished with this but i thought i'd put it up

oh yeah here:
part1
part2
part3
part4
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In the limited sphere of life we base what we know or assume upon what knowledge has been accumulated throughout our lives. The tiniest nuances in experience will produce various differing ripples. Two people living through the same experience will thusly experience it differently and thusly will react differently. We make our assumptions and judgements based on these and if we are not aware we are in danger of prejudging.

As a group/herd/community, we tend to bond together in our similarities. We tend to be suspicious of that which is different. Even though all of us are in essence different from one another. Still, there is a sense of security in belonging and so with enough similarities a group/herd/community is born. If enough differences occur, then perhaps that individual is shunned or outcast. If differences occur but there are enough similarities that individual might be considered eccentric, to "walk to the beat of a different drum."

In one form or another, we as a species seem to inherently create a caste system, cliques, hierarchy. I have never subscribed to this ideology though I still have them as flaws in my character. Though I think what I judge by is entirely different from the people around me.

The apartment above the bakery was a junction. People from all walks of life flowed in and out at a constant rate. Tie-dyed hippies, cross-dressing goths, head shaving racists, puerto rican punks, bi-polar lesbians, girls from aristocracy, grimacing metal-heads. Somehow, here, in this place, we all became equal. Although, some were more equal than others.

At one point I was friends with a guy called 'Meathead'. I never knew his real name but then, most people didn't. One day I noticed he wasn't coming around anymore and asked about him. This was the response I got.

"Oh, you didn't know? He went white power again."

"Again?" I asked. What now? Do I fight him when we cross paths? I never did run into him again.

Around this time was when the central core group developed. MZ was a guitarist with wispy hair and a mild demeanor. Matt-I (pronounce matteye) was a skater punk/drummer who's hair was usually some sickly unnatural color. Crispy was generally tolerated as the resident wannabe hippy. Jen drank her way through several kidneys and was on dialysis for most of the time I knew her, but she got us the best parking spaces. Fuzzy Russ worked at the pharmacy and would lift cartons of cigarettes from work because they didn't do inventory. Colette liked to rave and owned the only bidet I've come across. Friendly Gus, well....he was friendly. Particularly when he was drunk. Many was the time I would hear him leer "Anigans, throw caution to the wind. C'mon, throw caution to the wind." Mac was a little slow (physically and mentally). Once he took a crutch to the back of the head from 'friendly fire' during a spontaneous brawl that erupted in the house. Junior was a puerto rican skinhead who had liberty spikes about a foot long before he shaved it off. He had the largest collection of underground 7" records. There was Drunk Ken who owned three pairs of shorts, all with the same ugly broad stripes, only each pair had it's own infernal color scheme. He wore them in the dead of winter, mainly because he didn't own any pants. I once had the misfortune to come across his photo album. Three things I learned that day. First, Ken had been married. Second, someone decided at the wedding it would be better if everyone was naked. Third, I didn't want to learn anything more about Drunk Ken. And finally of course there was Norm.

Norm was on probation, and his driver's license had been revoked. No longer did he drug it up but the man could swallow booze in unthinkable quantities. He worked at a convenience store and his means of transportation usually went along the lines of "Hey what are you guys doing tonight?" addressed to anyone he thought would bite. "There's a party at my house tonight. Come back around 7:00, that's when I get off." Because of this, there were people in that house constantly. The doors were never locked and just about anyone was welcome to come in anytime. Unless of course they came to brawl.

Norm was known to greet people at the door by waving his penis. For some unknown reason, it was perfectly acceptable to everyone. By what magic this was achieved, I will never know.

He didn't care. And I suppose that was it. Nothing fazed him. He was the crux, the source of this environment. All else was peripheral. It was because of him that this wash of life came and reacted the way they did. Those of us who were regulars were protective of the house and kept trouble at bay as much as possible. I can't speak for others but in my case it was my respect for Norm that did it. This wouldn't become evident until the next incarnation of the house where it shared a block with Shawn's house. That was when we would see what true debauchery could lead to. That was when we saw the further depths we had not and would not reach. That was when we could judge.