The Local

The Local. Mark slid his phone shut and fumbled for the fare. He braced for the chill and left the cab. Not yet six, it was already dark. Community organization ran deep in his bones. His knack for it had faded as his waistline grew. He arrived on campus to preview presentations for an upcoming neighborhood conference. He felt entitled to this lighter duty. Lots had come between him and the man he had wanted to become. He accepted the travel as it kept him among the passionate.

Halfway through a presentation, Mark suggested that a local presenter use a grocery item as a prop. He received a blank look. “They need to see that you are a food coop.” urged Mark. “The food is a channel,” responded the local. “The coop is really a gathering place. Lots of different types of folks share in our coop.” “Just share your success story,” urged Mark. “You’ll lose the audience otherwise. But, I am interested in how you plan to sustain it.” “We have met our goal of coop members.” the local rejoined. “That’s allowed us to fully shelf our suppliers.” “Grocery wars can be brutal,” Mark countered. “Can you weather one?” “Our members understand they are supporting the quality of our supplier’s produce,” said the local. “In this era, will people pay extra for a food staple wrapped in sharing?” Mark questioned.

“Listen, commerce revolves around the experience,” said the local. “Its always been the package. You are what you eat.” “True,” agreed Mark. “But, this is a tale of the coin. The bigs have adopted your banner.” The local countered, “Maybe the bigs are worried that the economics have changed. Take a sport like football. It used to be an outside game. We all shared memories of classic moments in games. Indoor stadiums now want you to experience what you watch on your couch. Why go to the game? National sporting events are relics. Even the greatest spectacle in racing has lost its identity. As a nation we consume conflict and tragedy. Its like the cold war. We are held together by what divides us. Even golfers must come to disappoint us.”

“But, we are hard wired to share individual moments. We now can create our own pixels to share with others. The bigs don’t like this. What the bigs can’t capture as a revenue stream they label as doom. Its really not. Their marketing departments just have less say. Era upon era, the keys of our identity were held by shaman, elders and chancellors. No longer. Today, people will spend a buck for a song - not fifteen for an album. This was trouble for the handlers that needed part of the fifteen to exist. But, its nostalgia to think that music is no longer great with the handlers gone. You just have to know where to look for it. The moaning you hear is the handlers.”

“Which brings me back to the food channel. Food is local. True, spice sent explorers around the world. But, the chain of growing, gathering and distributing of food begins and ends at the local level. Going to market is basic to us all. Notions of the market change. There are countless variations on convenience, freshness, selection, abundance and price. It is still the market. It is a most natural place to build community.

Mark was a handler. He was stunned. The passion of this local was outside of him. His years of organizing had kept his interests on the dole. He subsidized. He did not sustain. Over time, his subsidies became institutions for the bigs. He was weary. His phone vibrated. Mark realized he had to head for the airport for the next preview of conference presentations. As he got into the cab, the chill did not leave his bones.