Ithaca is Nauseous
Moth doesn’t think that Ithaca is strange, or that hippies live here in greater numbers than anyplace else. Could that be because… perhaps… she IS one and she lives here? The women wearing potato-sack dresses and Birkenstocks are her friends, and she doesn’t see anything unusual with that!
Here’s an example of an Only in Ithaca moment: we went to see the movie Death at a Funeral at one of the two small, artsy independent theaters. There is a drinking fountain in the hall there, and near the drain is a small dent where water pools and algae grows. In the algae, some peace-monger scratched an om sign. You know, one of these:
Not “fuck you” or their name or anything you might find in a regular place, but a symbol in Buddhism whose true origin has been lost to it having become a symbol of peace, love, yoga, vegan muffins sweetened with honey, carob bars with organic rainforest nuts, new age music and drum circles. It’s the new Kokopelli of symbols, appearing in rainbow colors on the back windows of a good 1/3 of the cars in this town. Buddhism is so trendy, and Ithaca is at the heart of it, boasting a temple with real monks imported from Tibet. Of course, they train new monks here too, so it’s not remotely unusual to see some white dude in saffron robes with a shaved head and a big curly nasty beard and a beer gut wearing Birkenstocks.
You can’t understand Ithaca unless you’ve been here for a while. It’s not merely a hippie town; it’s a lifestyle. Any dietary restriction you have will be obsequiously catered to here. However, don’t upset the delicate energy balance of the people around you, because, like most bourgeois, self-righteous soy nut-munchers, they sure can complain.
uh-oh everybody’s home now. Time to go!
