Going Gray
Ever since I moved to the outskirts of Big City, I’ve been deathly afraid of going gray.
And I’m not talking about my hair. I’ve got that covered, if you know what I mean.
I mean the kind of gray that’s really hard to get rid of. The kind of gray that makes a woman replace her stylish wardrobe with a row of tracksuits, gain another 50 pounds on top of her baby weight and cut her hair super short and feather and spray it into place like an eighties game show host.
The kind of gray that is synonomous with suburbia.
What is it about the ‘burbs that inspires so many Americans to seek sameness? Venture into a typical suburban neighborhood and you’ll find identical houses, identical minivans, identical landscaping, identical Halloween decorations, even. See any pink flamingos or gay pride flags outside these homes? If you do, you can bet that neighbor has had hell to pay for his or her individuality.
I know, I know, I didn’t have to live here. My city does have an eclectic old neighborhood where artists and musicians and Internet designers live side by side in happy hippie harmony. Unfortunately, it’s right next to the projects. Every single person I know who lives there has been robbed, burgled, mugged or graffitied (well, their houses have been graffitied- I don’t actually know anyone who’s been personally graffitied without her express permission). Yet these people chafe at the notion of their neighborhood being known as a high crime area.
Actual conversation at a concert not long ago:
“Aren’t you Lucinda? I’m Natalie Iconoclast! I live next door to Mary and Jim.”
“Oh, hi. Nice to meet you.”
“We just moved in and I have to say I’m pretty upset at all the negative attention our neighborhood is getting. It’s a wonderful place with wonderful people! And nothing bad has happened to us… except for when we found a loaded gun in our front yard.” (I am not exaggerating this conversation, people).
“A loaded gun?”
“Well, we called the police when we found it, of course. And the officer who showed up said someone probably dropped it leaving the scene of a crime. And he told us we should probably just not say anything to anyone and keep it in case we ever needed to use it.”
“Huh. Imagine that.”
Let me just say that this is a conversation that I will never ever have with any neighbors I run into at my suburban supermarket. And there’s something to be said for that.
But the grayness! The boring old lukewarmth of every day suburban life is sometimes too much to take. I find myself in open rebellion, wearing a mini skirt to Wal-Mart, going down the tube slide at the park (not in the mini-skirt, of course), yelling loudly at soccer games… Anything to provoke a reaction from the Grays, even if it’s a negative one. Anything to get the ho-hum looks off their faces.
Anything to keep from going gray myself.
>i live in suburbia but my colour is pink! no gray tones here.
>”Ms.LaBoomba (that’s me-hippie fortune teller-ok not in real life-but I’d like to play one on TV) does not see any gray in your future…She see’s alot hip, very now colors draped all around you”..Amazingly enough this little country town I live in doesn’t have alot of grey-it has a ton of BLONDE-but it’s all good!
>Oh yeah, we’re all about the bleached blondes here, too. Sometimes when I’m bored at church, I count the number of bleached blondes in front of me!One thing I love about bloggers is that there’s no grayness among you. But you’re all writers- and I think the kind of mind that loves to write is the kind of mind that questions any hint of invading grayness- and squashes it.Word verification just mocked me with “lasiyun”.Guess I need to stop being a “lazy ‘un” and finish putting away laundry! Ho hum.
>See, I AM gray…or getting there. I really am. But, I’m trying really hard to get back to yellow!Reading your blog today made me see that grayness is some of my problem too. It is so hard not to fall prey to the sameness. After all, that’s what is expected and accepted, right?BUT, I don’t WANT to be gray and maybe that’s why I have so many ups and downs these days (as evidence by my blog, of course!)I know this isn’t where I belong or enjoy being. You’re right, Lucinda. FIGHT the GRAY! You GO GIRL!
>M’dear, you are soooooooooo not gray! Not a gray speck in sight either!
>I hate suburbia in the bay area. SF is sooo much more interesting but alas, we live near the Boy’s place of work so I can’t bitch (even if it IS an hour one way to school by car…)PS Boycott Walmart. Don’t make me get on my feminist hippie soap box and tell you all the reason why it’s an evil place…. 🙂
>After a 14 year marriage ended I welcomed the grey. I wanted to blend in and disappear for awhile. I needed to hibernate so I could heal and get myself together. When I climbed out of the world of grey I was a new person and ready for the next step in my life. That next step was when Steven walked into my life. I don’t want to spend my life in a grey world but sometimes some of us need to.
>I used to be gray. Sort of. Now I think I live in technicolor! I don’t want to be the same either! And I make soooo many people mad because I don’t conform! Here from Michele’s BTW!
>I think the dangerous thing about going gray is that it’s so difficult to get out of it.You need a tumultuous event, like meeting a new husband for example, to get out of it. And sometimes that event just doesn’t happen. Then what?I can’t imagine you ever being gray, Angie. Maybe you were blending in for a while, but I’m sure the gears were turning in there somewhere!! 🙂
>I wear lots of tye die and always try to dress like I’m on my way to the beach. We are such oddballs we’ll never be gray. I’m with you Lucinda! Fight it baby!!
>Definitely not gray in the suburb where I live. We have a lot of colorful characters.I did once find a crack pipe on the sidewalk in my neighborhood. I think a member of a moving van crew left it.
>I think that as long as you are aware of the gray invasion you will continue to remain immune. That’s the secret – being aware and continuing to wear those minis, girlfriend!
>Creeping grayness–now I know what that movie “The Fog” is really supposed to be about…!(My word verification is “nzepovk.” I’m struggling to figure out what sort of message that is.)
>I so ditto you! I grew up in Arizona where everyone was white and blonde…and extremely gray. After I got married we couldn’t wait to get to Los Angeles and immerse ourselves in “culture”. One reason growing up where I did was a bit difficult (but, in a good way) is because I was raised by parents who always told me to live outside the box. I was never really “in” with anyone except my small circle. My family has always been cheeky and we call ourselves “carni’s”. We think we are weird and quirky and similar to those freaky people who travel with carnivals. Heh. We can always tell someone who is or is not a carni. Non-carni’s won’t even think its funny that we call ourselves carni’s.I love where we live, its extremely non-gray. Every time I go home to AZ I cringe a little. The Hubs’ entire family lives there still and we are definitely the black sheep of that family. They just don’t get us or our carni ways!
>Hi, visiting from Michelle! I’m probably as gray as they come, but I like your blog anyway! Have a great day!
>No gray for me, um, other than the hair that is. I tend to go the opposite direction of keeping in line with the Jones’.
>Lucinda, I saw a picture of you, remember??? you will definitely NEVER go grey you gorgeous woman!!!
>I am sometimes gray but I can never stay that way!
>Our new neighbours had some friends over last weekend, and in the glorious spring sunshine our neighbour Greg pulled off his shirt (this is all aural reporting by the way, not visual).Friend to Greg: That’s it mate, get some sunshine to heal up those scars.Greg to Friend: These mate? No way, these ones don’t heal. These are methadone mate, they never go away.We like to think of our street as, ahem, eclectic. Not sure what kind of colour it would be, maybe that sort of tattoo-green?
>You go girl!!!
>Lucinda, I love the new template!!!!!!I have to say so here, though, rather than on the newer post because I CANNOT get into the darn haloscan comments. Grrr. Haloscan and I just don’t get along. You should see all the voodoo magic I have to do to comment on Raehan’s blog each time. But at least there I can get it to work. Here nothing works. *sob* The comments won’t open at all, no matter how many different ways I try.But I’ll keep trying. It’s probably some popupblocker problem or something…Anyway, I LOVE the image at the top of your blog. Awesome!
>love the new layout. A little indiscreet for my worktime surfing, but that’s my burden not yours.
>Lucinda,Thanks for visiting my site! I love this site, glad I found it. (Via you! :)I love that Grey thing – that’s the perfect name for it. I mean, I hate the grey thing, but that is the perfect phrase.I like a new movement happening in a few suburbs – New Urbanism. Not the same old suburb. But making new housing look like those quaint old sections of cities; they’re great places to live (we lived in one in Colorado), and no greyness anywhere. Not in the people who chose to live there, or literally on the houses.