“Nextdoor” Neighbors
In 2000, the social scientist Robert Putnam chronicled America’s declining social capital in his landmark book, Bowling Alone.Today, it seems we have slid from solo bowling to tribalism, marked by division and animosity based on group differences. My move to Ashland included a large wish for the opposite—to connect. I imagined an expanding circle of nearby friends, built upon differences as much as shared interests, chance encounters, kindness, and humor.
My hopes were well placed. In a town where friendship and community are endemic, I’ve stopped thinking of myself as an introvert.
One of the first things I did after moving here, though, wasn’t quite face-to-face: I joined the local chapter of “Nextdoor.com,” the largest private online network connecting neighbors in the country. “There are so many ways our neighbors can help us,” Nextdoor says. “We just need an easier way to connect with them.”
Nine months later, I have yet to seek or give “nextdoor” help. I have retrieved, though, suggestions for reliable handymen, gardeners willing to pull and not whack weeds, arborists, and window washers. This fall, I followed the cougar alerts, since they were the talk of the town.
Early on, I started keeping a list of some of the things my new neighbors were searching for: a backhoe, used pickle ball paddles, a classic black witch’s hat, six bricks, an oscilloscope, the name of a movie that touched them years ago—even applause. I noted the politeness and generosity in so many of the posts. “I can’t tell you enough how you’ve made my day,” writes Stanley after a neighbor lent him a chimney brush for his woodstove.
The neighborhood listserv I joined in Park Slope (Brooklyn) could be tribal. There, one winter day, a good Samaritan named Alice found a small hat on a Brooklyn sidewalk. She posted: “Found: Boy’s Blue Hat,” with a short description. The moment she clicked “send,” a brouhaha erupted. Alice’s post was followed by Betty’s, a snarky critique challenging the word boy: “Does the hat in question possess an unmistakable scent of testosterone?” Carol jumped in. She was offended that Betty was offended, adding that Betty’s post was pointless except “to make sure that everyone complies to your PC view of life.”
There’s nothing PC about my Ashland neighbor’s posts, emanating from the historic downtown, crowded with renovated houses, to Emigrant Lake, an empty landscape outside town dotted by small farms. Here, urban (really, a hamlet) gives way to rural—and vice versa—in a snap of the finger.
One of the first posts to catch my eye involved a cat named Stanley Hudson (“Big butt, bigger heart”) who needed a good home. Holly, his sponsor, had adopted Stanley from the local humane society but it wasn’t working out:
“I’m a 1 cat household, and despite slow integration and continued separation with supervised free time, the two cats are not getting along. Stanley appears to be indifferent, but my original cat is incredibly anxious, and upset. STANLEY IS IN NEED OF A NEW HOME! Other details: He is up to date on vaccinations and flea/tick prevention; rotund and LOVES food (needs weight loss diet); extremely cuddly; loves bird watching from front windows; and has a suspected voice-box issue and therefore does not meow often or loudly.”
In Brooklyn and, before that, Rhode Island, I was used to seeing flyers for lost dogs pinned to telephone poles. Here, hardly a week passes without a report on Nextdoor of a dog needing finding: e.g., “Med sized, curly fluffy tail, seen heading down old 99 near mile marker 2 ten minutes ago.”
Indeed, animals domestic and wild animate the neighborhood ecology (as you may have gathered from previous posts).
Sam needs a sitter for 5 big dogs, 3 goats, and a cat.
Jennifer searches for her lost baby goat, Heidi. “There was a terrible event and she was able to escape the pen. She has on a green collar with her name and birth day on it. She is an Oberhasil Goat, black face and legs, black stripe down her back with dark reddish body. She will come to people very easily, especially for food. She knows her name. Thank you.”
Moon Ruby Farm wants unwanted fallen fruit for Tinkerbell, a small breed of pig (125-300 lbs.) known for its extraordinarily friendly, docile and social nature. “She would love to have any fallen fruit that you’d like to get rid of. Oink, oink – or, thanks!” Tinkerbell’s owners write.
Not surprisingly, the summer invasion of deer and bears drew a bevy of wry comments. Here are a few.
DeerZilla(Donald)—“Alert!: Early morning dog walkers. I was deer-stalked by a large doe on C Street between 3rd and 4th this morning between 5:45 and 6:00 AM. She seemed uninterested in me, but stared laser beams at my dog. Walked next to me for a block, maybe 8 feet from me. No fawn visible, but I guess that’s the point.”
— “Welcome to my world. My dog and I get stalked by a doe often. I’ve started carrying a small canister of pepper spray when I walk her. Between zombie deer and the smoke, so much for magical nature wonderland….”
— “Remember how in The Birds it started gradually?”
Visiting Bear (Phillip)— “It appears from the huge poop pile discovered by our front porch this morning, we have something very big in the neighborhood–most likely a bear.”
— “Yep he/she has been in my yard the last few nights. And, no, I am not leaving out a plate of cookies.”
— “I called Fish & Wildlife about it, asking if they would relocate the bear, and the message back was it was a police matter (meaning shooting it). They wanted the exact location but I didn’t call back. I do not want it killed… they live here too :)”
— “And I was thinking it was MY bear! It’s been in my garden and driveway and apple tree off and on for several weeks. Yes, lots of poop!”
Work queries are surprisingly infrequent and, well, different.
“My name is Michael. I’ve recently moved to Ashland and I’d love to paint some murals in this area, like mandalas, type, and “feeesh” characters. Let me know if you have a vehicle, wall or structure that could use some artwork.”
“Hi my name is Payton West and I am 18 years old and I go to school at Southern Oregon University. I have babysat and tutored for the past 5 years now. I have taken a baby sitting class and I have been a certified lifeguard for 3 years (CPR and AED Certified), I also have been a science camp counselor for 2 years. I have house sat & cat/ dog sat for 3 years and I help around the house. I am really comfortable with children, people, and animals and I have done this for awhile.”
“Hey everyone, my name is Taron and I am offering field mowing large scale weedeating and general tractor/dirt work give me a call for pricing and more info.”
New to me are requests for apprenticeships. Alexa, for example, writes:
“I’m a 15 year-old homeschooler who has an interest in farm-kill animal butchery and I am looking for a farm-kill butcher to apprentice with. I was just wondering if anyone has any recommendations, or is a butcher themselves. Thank you!” (“You might look into helping at a local farm where animals are raised and sacrificed humanely–from what I know, there is always too much work,” one neighbor replies.)
While, in theory, politics are off limits, they, too, find their way into our neighborhood listserv.
Susan writes about the town’s failure to negotiate winter housing for the homeless. Addressing the mayor and city council, she asks:
“What is PLAN “B”? I am referring to the fact that there is NO Winter Shelter for the HOMELESS beginning Nov. 11. According to the City: Pioneer Hall is not an option. The Grove is not an option. Thankfully: The Presbyterian Church is stepping up for Friday, Saturday & Sunday Nites. It is shameful that the CITY has reneged on their offer to provide temporary emergency housing NOW. The City says NO SHELTER until the new shelter is ready NEXT YEAR, January 2019. REALLY?? NO SHELTER during the coldest, wettest months?
A few weeks before the November ’18 election, Brenda shared her astonishment at finding a measure on the local ballot that would eviscerate gun control.
“I don’t know if this is the right forum for this, but there is a Jackson County Measure on the ballot on gun control, Measure 15-181, which has received virtually no publicity, to the point where some people who have gone diligently through the ballot papers have no memory of even seeing it on the paper. This measure would eliminate ANY restriction whatsoever on the right to own guns, and even eliminate any form of gun registration. It would make county sheriffs the arbiter on guns…. County Sherriff’s get to decide what is lawful? This is not how this country has ever worked…. Dear God, how many more children, young people, people practicing their faith, have to die? I do hope the people of Jackson County have the wisdom to reject this measure.”
Brenda’s post sparked an intense online conversation about gun control. (“Firing firearms make people crazy. Destroy them if you have them. Or better yet weld them into sculpture,” one neighbor wrote. “So if a Sherrif thinks everyone should have machine guns and all kinds of ammo…..he gets to decide!!!! This is not how this country has ever worked.,” said another.) Jackson County voters did reject the measure.
Jan is a plein artist and Margaret plays the oboe.
“Hello: I’m a plein air artist and am wondering if there is anyone who might be interested in getting together to paint outside. I have the gear to walk to a good location before setting up but am also happy to paint from the back of my car.”
“Got an oboe, me, and a clarinet. Need a flute, a French horn, and a bassoon or a cello. We’re not that advanced but would like to have a “reading group” and we’ll take it from there … Pianists? … the oboist and the clarinet could always use a patient pianist for trios.”
Tony worries about a train (tracks run right through Ashland) that is spraying some sort of substance over 200 feet on each side of the track as it rolls through town. “It’s water, lol,” Bill explains. “The trains have always been required to spray tracks continuously from their water tanker for spark control.”
Pamela wants “advise about what the best (economical/ecological/logical) temperature is to set the thermostat on this winter day and night.”
Jimmy, spoiled by the Chinese food he enjoyed in San Francisco’s Chinatown, seeks recommendations for “an honest-to-goodness-good Chinese restaurant in these here parts.” Neighbors tell him there aren’t any, but one proposes forming a neighborhood Chinese food cooking club.
Richard, taken by Malcolm Gladwell’s recent book on the transformative power of guided psilocybin trips, wonders whether there are any experienced guides nearby that he could enlist.
“My husband has an orchard ladder & we’d love to pick some apples to make cider,” Libby writes. “If you have a tree with apples (on not too steep a slope), we could pick some for us and for you.”
And so it goes.
Reading the posts from my nextdoor neighbors, I am reminded of the acclaimed television series “The Good Place,” with its curious stories about what connects people.
Here, miles away from urban and suburban life and where open spaces often separate neighbors, reciprocity and trust, in the words of Robert Putnam, “lubricate social life.”
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