Anyone who knows me, knows that I am not counter-culture, I am not hip, and I am most definitely not cool. By all accounts, I am a square, and by virtue of my squareness, I should be diametrically opposed to that little hippy food store downtown. But I, in all my squareness and boringness, can admit that the Big Hollow Food Co-op represents that which Laramie needs most: weirdness.
Before we get into discussing the merits of having a local source of organic soap, let’s talk about what a food co-op is.
A food co-op is essentially a grocery store based around a concept of collective ownership, that it is owned and operated by its members. While its collectivist tendencies might scare anyone with anti-communist or anti-socialist views, the most dangerous thing the co-op offers is smelly kombucha.
Our local co-op serves a dual-purpose, as both a grocer of assorted oddities, and a rallying point for Laramie’s counter culture. As a grocer of assorted oddities, the co-op provides all your assorted fermented food needs, pleasant smelling snake oils (essential oils), and foodstuffs for the anti-GMO (organic) crowd.
While I personally disagree with the ideologies behind many of the products that the co-op provides, I feel that its existence is justified for what it inspires in Laramie: culture.
Without the co-op vegetarians would have less options, holistic medicine practitioners would have a less readily-available supply of snake oil and those afraid of pesticides would starve. By the tone of my rhetoric, I’m sure you can tell that I find many of these things questionable, if not absolutely ridiculous, but Laramie needs this kind of diversity. Laramie needs the weird.
Without the hippies, without the vegans, without the too-counter-culture for you types, Laramie would devolve into any other town in Wyoming, which, while not explicitly terrible, is terribly boring. Laramie’s diversity and assorted collection of freaks and geeks are what facilitate our various tattoo parlors, exotic restaurants and just plain funky collection of secondhand stores.
Without the weird, kids who come to Laramie from all around Wyoming might never get to experience that mind-expanding joy that comes with being a counter-culture voyeur. While I remain pretty resistant to veganism and the junk-science of holistic medicine, I can’t help but admit Laramie’s weirdness has had its affect on me. Without it I likely would have never gotten a tattoo, never ridden a fixed-gear bicycle, nor experienced the Red-Bull-on-steroids effect of Yerba Mate.
Because of this, I encourage anyone who has not yet had a chance to look into the strange side of Laramie to go down to Big Hollow and see what you find. You might surprise yourself.
Thank you Big Hollow Food Co-op for keeping the weird alive.
