Out with the Old

Lightning.  Jill.  Brandi.  Tater Time.  All departed from this place for distant shores, ne’er to return.  These tough old trucks were driven pretty much into the ground, in harsh conditions, by delinquent young navies for decades.  They carried endless shipping containers of food and supplies to us and poop and garbage away from us.  I doubt the current professional bureaucrat-ese will coin monikers as irreverent as Shagnasty for the replacements.

We'll miss you, cool old trucks.

photo: Brian Egger

This year we have a causeway instead of an ice pier.

(Not my photo, wish I knew who to credit.)

And I’m trying to spend as much time in my beloved Coffee House as possible before its scheduled demolition this winter.  This warm dark cave of alternating conviviality and quiet, with its Hobbit-hole arched ceiling, satisfyingly solid oak bar, distinctively creaky door, and cozy comfort is irreplaceable.  The old wood skis and burlap coffee sacks will no doubt reappear in a new space, and we’ll have to imbue it with as much good conversation and music and toasting and commiserating as we can to bring life to it.

Something else we are in the process of shedding is complacency about sexual harassment and assault.  Well-worn patterns of behavior and toothless responses and tepid policy enforcement aren’t cutting it for this robust community.  Women (and men) here—as everywhere—endure far too much shitty action and infringement on our right to live and work in reasonable safety.  Many of us are sick of experiencing acts of aggression and violence and are incensed by the ineptitude and inaction of management to even comply with program rules and the law.  It’s wonderful to get away from the dehumanizing effect of technology and “modern life” by being here, and we will not suffer dehumanizing by our colleagues. 

We’re working on improvements in identifying, documenting, and reducing harassment and assault.  Friends, if you have any knowledge, insight, or suggestions, please share them with me so I can discuss them with station management.  Luckily, my fuck-off vibe has thus far protected me personally, but it’s just that—luck.  My friends have been assaulted and I want to do as much as I can to promote our safety here.  Please do forward anything you think could be helpful.