At one time, I fancied myself an expert on politics. I was an infomaniac, a news junkie. Every weekday, I would watch two local newscasts, Tom Brokaw, and the MacNeil / Lehrer News Hour. My favorite show was Washington Week in Review. I would watch 60 Minutes religiously. This was before the internet could explain everything.
Plan 9, the local independent record store, had a bulletin board. I put up a flier that said, “Hey Punkers, isn’t about time Richmond had a scene report in Maximumrocknroll?” with my mailing address. Two people responded. One guy sent advertisements for punk shows in the South Side. I could have followed up on that. The other letter was from Troy Eeyore. He ran a record label, Eerie Materials. I got a compilation cassette, it was pretty strange. I liked it, though, it was put together well. Troy was holding CHAOS meetings in a classroom at VCU. Basically, anyone could show up for discussions about anarchy, politics, protest, and such. I went to three or four meetings. Some people showed up once, while others were there every time.
There was a slightly odd, but pretty cool guy named Abram. He had a Public Access discussion show. In the first CHAOS meeting I attended, he said that he had become involved with the Green Party—mostly because he thought that there might be women to meet. I thought I’d give it a try, for the same reason. No, I wanted to check out the local activist scene. I thought of myself a man who stood up for the environment and such.
The Green Party was comprised of left-wing idealists. That’s who I was, unashamed. Their primary focus was, as the name suggests, preserving nature and sustaining the environment. Is that really so bad? They were active regarding many vital stances, including political reform, social and economic justice, civil rights, and helping the poor. Nowadays, I’m politically independent. Jill Stein, the 2016 Presidential Nominee, made a lot of sense, but she also said some things I thought were silly.
My first meeting was for all the state groups, it was the Winter of 1992. The meeting was held in a big room at VCU. There were about thirty people. The group that represented Northern Virginia had done some big and difficult proposal to do something or another for the Northern Virginia area. One girl from the James River Greens said that at the last meeting they were talking about bioregions. She said that the guy should expand the project to the entire Chesapeake Bay region. That was a huge amount of extra work, but the guy said, “Okay.”
Most of the meetings took place in people’s homes. One couple’s apartment had big photo on the wall that was a profile of a nude woman—it looked like the lady who lived there. That is pretty weird. The meetings were always potluck. I had a limited idea of what vegan was, but I usually brought rice and beans—with small hunks of cheddar stirred in.
At one meeting, I brought a petition to free Leonard Peltier, everyone signed it. I mailed it to President Clinton and got a return letter saying that it was a matter for the Justice Department.
There was this one girl, Megan. We went to a couple of City Council meetings—I don’t think that those qualify as dates. Abram had scheduled a show with Megan and me, to talk about the Green Party…but we bailed. He was a calm and intelligent man, and he deserved better.
I don’t know what the hell it is with me and Valentine’s Day, but there was some Richmond Symphony Orchestra thing downtown. I dressed up a bit, but Megan wore a purple sweat suit. I found out that she was twenty-six. I was twenty-two, and it seemed an impassable divide.
You know? I don’t remember any of the political stuff. It was more of a social club. You say one thing wrong, and they make you feel so inferior that you announce, “I guess there’s no need for me to stick around,” and go home without looking back.