It takes a community to run Bootleg—

In the middle of winter we were invited to go to Atlantic City. Not many people hang out on the boardwalk in the middle of winter, including the vendors. We were extra lucky that trip to get a sloshy snow and high wind that made the boardwalk brutal. Our friends were all staying at Harrah’s, but last minute we booked a deal at the Chelsea.  We had a lot of time on our hands to buy $10 bathing suits (that happened to be a bit see through and neon) and swim in the outdoor heated pool as the steam rose up around us. The people eating at Teplizky’s all watched as we jumped started our spring despite what the weather had in mind.

Heading out of our hotel on the third day, we wrapped our heads in scarves and walked to find a taffy vendor. You can’t really say you have been in AC if you haven’t had the fresh water.  A bike taxi driver, who I will call Paul, asked us if we needed a ride. We didn’t– but Paul wasn’t busy, so he gave us the discount tour: by that I mean he talked real history with us.

Real history is one that doesn’t come in one size or shape, and one that allows perceptions to shape it’s telling.

You know the kind, “Where ya’ll staying at?”

“We are at The Chelsea,” I said.

“Enjoying your selves?” Paul asked, lightly.

“Yeah, actually—It’s really fun. The spa and pool are nice after this winter.” Paul looked unmoved by my happiness. “You don’t like The Chelsea?”

“The Chelsea ain’t no Revel,” he replied with a grin. “The Chelsea is whatever… you know, bootleg snobby.”

We knew he was throwing an insult at The Chelsea, but that is exactly where we wanted to be. We had felt the same way one time when we stayed in the Blue Green—where our shower strangely had a glass panel overlooking our… bed. This is the kind of wabisabi we need in our lives to make things real. Real history, real stories, real moments of life.

The world is obsessed with what is the “best of the best,” but once the best reaches its peak, it’s ideal is lost to the next human idea.

But where I grew up, the best was Annie’s fig preserves with lemon zest slivered just so. It was always the best and only Annie made it. Annie’s preserves were the bootleg you could not find in the store. I’m not arguing against capitalism, but in redefining the terms of bootleg, I’m hoping to maybe take back the essence of things to be defined beyond its costs or perceived reputable value. Bootleg seeks to look at the value of everything using a real history, shaped by real people in an ever-changing narrative that goes beyond mere trend.

While bootlegging by definition meant one couldn’t buy essence in the store and in fact, if you offered money for the thing, the bootlegger may not even want it. What they wanted was to know you, a sense of community, exchange. These exchanges are what created this real history.

So, the idea behind Bootleg Snobby is to look for the thing that is real. Not the thing that costs the most or the thing that everybody knows is the best or is shown pictures of as the place to go, but something that is authentic in the world beyond what the world thinks is authentic now. For that—everyone is invited. Please feel free to contribute to any of the disciplines Bootleg is pedaling, and even suggest something you think may help us grow. Click the link here for more information on how to get involved.