NIMBY, maybe yours

 Sitting on the porth this afternoon, my friend Yori is exercised about recent talk in community meetings about moving the MBTA bus depot from its current location at Forest Hills to a piece of land in our section of Roslindale. 'I get it that the place is an eyesore and I understand that some people want to use it to build housing next to the train station, but we're not Jamaica Plain's dumping ground.'

The forces are massing on the JP side, he says, and only he and his wife with their 'Ask Roslindale' pins seems to be questioning the idea. He says, 'We're a small city and every part has to accept something that it doesn't especially want. We're clearly the fast food zone.'

'Nobody is being intentionally mean but this is how all the things that nobody wants end up in the less trendy neighborhoods. They just don't seem to get it: they may be just cleaning up their neighborhood but we don't want the depot either.'

Earlier in the day, Yori had been photographing examples of doubled-up utility poles on our street: quick fixes which hadn't then been replaced by more aesthetic single poles. 'I found eight just down the hill, and that means there are many more.' He takes it as sign we as a neighborhood are getting subtly shafted.

None of this disturbs me as much as it does him. He doesn't feel persecuted and angry, but he is alert, sensitive and protective of his locality. I'm more accepting of everything, so my feelings are less intense;a pattern true of me in all sorts of situations. Still I'm happy to stand with Yori in his concern and promise to support him at the next meeting on the subject. Why? Personal solidarity, parochial loyalty, or a sense that I, and we all, need to give ear to and honor those take on the task of lonely defender.

I did  my own battle yesterday with what does disturb me: poison ivy. Penetrating at great risk into the thicket on the property next to mine, I got to the tree up which a hairy poison ivy vine climbs sprouting long flexible fronds of terrible shiny leaves waving in space like snakes on the head of Medusa, and I snipped out a section of vine, dooming it. I may pay a price in itchy rashes in the next few days, but it'll be worth it. That Yggdrasil of evil intent will be gone.

Our conversation turned to larger issues, nuclear energy among them. I suggested disposal of nuclear waste by loading it into devices which 'gnaw' their way down through the crust into the mantle, and Yori laughed, "And the trogs will probably growl, 'You may be just cleaning up your neighborhood...'"