Blight by any other name is still a festival

And speaking of the Ghetto…..

We didn’t just decide we were in the Ghetto on a whim one day. If you must know, the city hung that moniker on us. As a matter of fact, they referred to us as “Ghetto Dwellers”. They put that in writing. Here’s another thing a wish I had kept, the flyer that the city stapled to the front door explaining our plight and why where we lived was a Ghetto. We did however, embrace the concept. As such the Ghetto became the place to be.

There were officially 10 of us that comprised the group from the Ghetto. During the height of our occupation, we had control of four apartments. These apartments were something special. The one I lived in had a total of three rooms. I had a roommate. Before we moved into the apartment, we were debating who got which room. Officially, there was one bedroom, a living room and a kitchen. On move in day, I took one look at the bedroom and announced “I got the living room.” The bedroom was just large enough for a mattress. There was maybe a foot of walking space around the bed. I don’t know who built the closet. I don’t know how realistically you could even call it a closet. It wasn’t deep enough to hang your clothes in. A hanger was wider than it was . One winter, the pipes in the bathroom froze. We called the landlord. His immediate response was, “what did you do, close the door?” That was a good question. You see, there was no heat in the apartment. The only heat came from the side of the stove. If you opened the bedroom door, the bedroom got all the heat; the rest of the apartment froze. And if you closed the bathroom door, the pipes froze. More than one morning we woke up to find the water in the toilet frozen. And we had creepy crawly roommates as well. My roommate embarked on a quest to rid the apartment of pests, one cockroach at a time.

About a week after we moved in, my roommate’s brother asked if he could crash on the couch. What do you say to that kind of request? Obviously one brother couldn’t turn his back on the other. Of course he could crash on the couch (ahh yes, that means he’s sharing my room by the way. I didn’t think that through). That very night, the brother calls a friend in New York, tells him he has a new apartment and asks this guy to move in. And this guy invites another guy. Soon, there are five of us sharing this three room apartment, four in the living room, one in the bedroom.

Look up Ghetto in the dictionary. Where we lived fits the definition. And our little group of 10 comprised the minority in this area. There were a lot of people who were afraid to come to my apartment. I used to own a piano. I had a guy come tune it. I had to walk the piano tuner to his car, in broad daylight, because he was nervous. We’d have parties. We’d have to walk people to and from their cars. I always got a kick out of that. We lived in these apartments for several years without incident. No one ever bothered us and we didn’t bother anyone. But still, some people were afraid to come see us. Maybe it was us.

I worked at a bank a few blocks down the street. Periodically, I would go home for lunch. As luck would have it, one of the days I was home for lunch the City came knocking on the door. The “Inspector” handed me a flyer and told me he’s looking to “inspect” the apartment. He went on to say that the City was inspecting all the apartments in the area. He explained that the City is doing this in an effort to stop the spread of BLIGHT. Naturally, I swung the door open wide and invited him in. We had a lovely chat. I explained to him all the little nuances of living in this apartment. We talked about the heat, the frozen toilets, and all the little uninvited guests. As the inspector left he handed me a pamphlet. The pamphlet detailed the cities effort to stop the spread of blight.

I get home from work that day and all the guys are there. As I’m telling them about the Blight Inspector the phone rings. It’s the landlord, Alarena. I’m pretty sure that’s actually two names, it was just always said as one. Alarena wants to know about the inspection notice he’s found. I tell him what happened at lunch. His immediate response is “YOU DIDN”T LET HIM IN DID YOU???!!!” I tell Alarena that yes, I in fact did let him in. Alarena blows a gasket. I hang up and start to chuckle. This is too good. Later in the evening I am relating this story to the couple that lives upstairs. This couple are actually the founding members of the Ghetto, they were there first. As such, their word is law. When I complete my story, they look at me and announce that this sounds like the basis for a party.

And so was laid the foundation of the Blight Festival.

The Blight Festival was a two day party. It started Friday night when the core group of Ghetto Dwellers got together for the setup. It started right after work, about 6:00 PM. It was small at first, 9 or so of the 10 Ghetto Dwellers and a couple of girls. Mostly, it was buying booze and food, then a lot of guitar playing. The next day is when things got into full swing.

Officially, the party started at 2:00 on Saturday. Saturday morning was prep time. We had to devise games, competitions and other things to keep our guests occupied. We also had to set up the grills. Quite a few people were invited to come to the Festival. A question was soon posed. How would people know which houses were hosting the party? Easy a banner was made. The couple from upstairs made a sign. It was simple; it just said “Charles Street BLIGHT FESTIVAL”. A banner was made next. The banner was made from a bed sheet and consisted simply of a giant cockroach. The Blight Banner was suspended over the driveway between two of the apartment houses. The cockroach was bright green, and filled the entire sheet.

This was a Blight Festival and as such, we did things in a blighty kind of way. There was no dumpster or even trash barrels for these apartments. Garbage bags were just piled at the end of the parking area. Where else would set up the grills for a Blight Festival? We set them up in the trash pile. They weren’t grill grills. There were cheapo $4.00 Hibachis. We had several Hibachis. We set them up on anything we could find. An old bench, an old table or even just on the asphalt.

There was lots going on all day. At 2:00 PM, the Blight Festival was officially kicked off with a proclamation from the second floor balcony. There was a puppet show from the same balcony a short while later. And all manner of flying things were launched from there as well. Airplanes and rockets and streamers and anything else that might fly. We had games and competitions. There was Beer Bottle Bowling, The Great Trash Bag Toss, and music, lots and lots of music. Several of the Ghetto Dwellers played the guitar. As such, there was live music all day and night. We even had an acrobat. One of the guys was juggling and walking around on his hands. Alarena came home during the height of Beer Bottle Bowling. He had to wait to get up the driveway until the preliminary match was complete. He was a little, agitated by the bowling. And he was pretty torqued by the Trash Bag Toss too. Whenever he got out of the car and saw the cockroach banner, well he was just speechless. I think was awestruck by the ingenuity and level of craftsmanship that went into the banner. Either that or he was having a stroke.

This party moved between the four apartments all afternoon and night. Hundreds of people came and went (all right, maybe that’s an exaggeration but there were a lot of people). The party continued until Sunday afternoon. By Sunday afternoon, things had pretty much wound down. All the guests had left and it was just us. Late in the afternoon the one official Ghetto Dweller who was unable to attend the Festival returned. He parked is his usual spot by the trash heap and came over to see what was going on. As we are recapping the highlights of the Festival, one of the guys decided he’s going back to my apartment for a shower and he leaves.

So there we are just recapping the weekend’s events when we hear sirens. We think nothing of it, we hear them all the time. Then we see the fire trucks, again, we don’t react. Then we see the trucks pull into our complex. NOW we react. We run outside to see what’s going on. Apparently the guy that went for the shower wanted one last burger. He decided he should use new coals for his burger. So he dumped the old coals into the trash. Needless to say, he set the trash a blaze. There is the trash fully engulfed in flame, with a car sitting in the middle of it. The perfect ending to the perfect party. I know what you’re think’n. You’re think’n you’ve heard some fire stories before. You’re think’n you know who threw the hot coals in the trash pile. Let’s put this question to bed right here and now. No, I was not the one to throw the hot coals in the trash. And I have witnesses.

On Monday, Alarena came out to seek his revenge. He wasn’t happy about the Festival or the Blight Banner still hanging between the buildings. He was mad; he was going to evict the ring leader. So Alarena goes up and pounds on the door of the only Ghetto Dweller that didn’t attend the party, and he threw him out. How ironic is that. The one guy who had absolutely nothing to do with the Festival had his car torched and then got evicted.

I'm sure there's some kind of a lesson to be learned in here. I'll be damned if I can figure out what it is.