For the past two years or more, I've worked at a bar called Sam Bond's Garage. It's situated at the corner of Fourth and Blair, in Eugene's Whiteaker neighborhood. The same neighborhood is home to many of the city's activists and anarchists. In spite of the vegetarian fare, children-friendly environment and generally accepting atmosphere, many of the local anarchists spend their time criticizing this place as helping to gentrify the neighborhood.

The other night at our bar, a hippy band was having their ten-year anniversary. The bar had anticipated a large turn out, but I was unprepared for the massive amount of people that would show up. At any other bar, my position would be defined as a bouncer, but the nature of our bar isn't one that generally invites rowdiness or problem individuals. Still, this is a bar, mind you, and any place that serves alcohol is always going to have its share of trouble.

From the start of the evening, I had my hands full and consequently didn't notice as local media hound, Tim Lewis, made his way inside the bar. At some point, the bartender approached me, asking for assistance in removing a drunkard. The bar was packed, and we had to literally push our way to the front of the bar. The entire way, this thought was repeating itself in my head: "please don't let this be someone that I know." And with that, we suddenly came up on Tim Lewis, just as he was spitting out beer on the crowd.

In vain, the bartender told Lewis that he had to leave. For that matter, both of us asked Lewis to leave several times. I wasn't sure if the bartender knew who Tim was or the possible implications of calling the police on him, but I was very familiar with Tim Lewis and his antics. He's no stranger to the newspaper, and it's not uncommon to find his picture in the paper as well as his name in arrest reports.

Back in the bar, Tim began screaming at us to fuck ourselves, etc. The bartender told Tim, just as he would have told any belligerent patron, that by refusing to leave, he's forcing us to call the police. To this, Tim simply replied, "If you call the cops, this place is going down; we'll burn this place down!"

This probably didn't mean anything to the dozens of people listening in, but it struck a chord with me. Just like John Zerzan, Tim Lewis is an older, self-proclaimed anarchist, who suffers from a Christ complex. And, just like John, I don't think it's unfair to say that Tim uses his influence as an older patriarch in the community to influence scores of undereducated and rebellious teenagers. Teenagers who are searching in vain for a father figure to replace and offset the conservative lifestyle one experiences growing up in the suburbs.

Over the past few years, Sam Bond's Garage has fallen victim to graffiti as well as having its windows smashed. This has all been done in the name of anarchism. Dozens of Whiteaker kids, clad in black, won't hesitate to point their fingers at our bar, as being a culprit in the alleged gentrification of the Whiteaker district. None of them can actually explain to any understandable degree, exactly what their position is, but they are staunch defenders in their right to throw rocks through various windows.

In all fairness to Tim, I admire his work with the local Cop Watch group, of which Tim is a co-founder, in spite of the ironies of its existence, which I'll introduce later. For that matter, when he was arrested during the June 18th riots, I truly feel that an injustice was done. It seems obvious to me that he was singled-out by the police as the only visible alternative to the mainstream media who were present. But, attempting to turn a drunken escapade into a political issue only reduces the legitimacy of any future arrests he might incur, in the minds of most people.

The bartender and myself voted to let him dance it off, hoping that he'd work his way out of the bar eventually. But, before even ten minutes had passed, the band decided to take a set break. The crowd thinned out a bit, and Tim made his way toward the front of the building, climbing up on stage. With the use of a microphone, he proceeded to lecture the crowd on the topic of politics. He charged them with being "liberal pussies" who were aiding in the decay of society and governmental take-over, through their apathy. Additionally, he accused them of spending too much time dancing and not enough time helping him storm the local police station. And with that, he attempted to organize an assault on the police's small, satellite building, one block away. Not surprisingly, the crowd failed to jump on his offer of revolutionary glory.

Around this time, our sound-man cut the power to the microphone, forcing Tim to resort to screaming. By this time, the crowd was becoming irritated, and several band members approached the stage with the intention of removing Lewis. Not one to be told what to do, Tim refused to leave the stage, which resulted in several people trying to physically pulling him off. Tim lost his footing and fell into the crowd, where a melee ensued. After randomly punching and kicking a number of people, it took about seven self-appointed heroes to carry him out of the bar, with his arms locked behind his back.

Defeated and frustrated, Tim circled the bar several times, assaulting passersby with his continued rantings. Eventually in an act of pure anarchistic genius, he journeyed around the corner to local party, where he smashed in a window on the front door of the house. Undoubtedly, his friends would think twice about wasting away any future Friday nights partying while there's a looming police-state to be toppled.

Eventually the police showed up to arrest Tim, just as one local Cop-Watcher hit "record" on his video camera, no doubt to tape the atrocities being committed. Too bad the cameras weren't rolling during the first half of Tim's performance. And finally, thirty minutes, five cops and one set of ankle shackles later, the police somehow managed to get Tim in the back of their squad car.

And in spite of popular opinion, Sam Bond's Garage never pressed charges against the man; although, I'm told, the police did press charges, since Tim's arrest violated his parole.

There are a number of ironies that come to mind amidst all of these events; as well, they are undoubtedly ideas that many folks would prefer to see buried rather than offered up for consideration, lest by chance the black-clad masses begin thinking independent of each other.

The first of these ironies, just as promised, revolve around those dedicated to "protect and serve," our beloved boys-in-black: none other than the kids of Cop Watch.

I think most people in the Whiteaker would agree, just as most people in most communities would agree, that we would all be better off in an environment free from the presence of the police. Obviously no community is ever going to be completely absent of this presence, as there is always going to exist the wild card of murder, rape and perhaps suicide, that will cause even your most hardcore anarchists to dial "911." But, aside from these unspeakables, many folks make an honest attempt to solve their disputes privately, without involving the police. And to these individuals, I tip my proverbial hat. Unfortunately, conflict being what it is, often precludes two opposing forces coming to an agreement or solution.

After Tim's arrest that night, many activists were quick to criticize that Sam Bond's should have tried to find another solution, rather than physically removing Mr. Lewis and getting the police involved. To these people, I remind that we did attempt to keep the police out of the resolution, by asking Tim to leave of his own accord: a solution which he rejected.

Additionally, it was not Sam Bond's that physically removed Tim but half-a-dozen people in the bar who had grown tired of his interruptions in their evening. For that matter, the bar staff was on the "lightweight" side of things that evening, and we could not have physically removed him, even if we had tried to.

Along with a "demonstration" early that afternoon, by masked anarchists blocking traffic, it seems rather ironic that the most outspoken individuals against a police presence infecting "our community" are the very ones that cause the police to surface the most often. A legitimate outcry against atrocities and corruption is one thing, but the continual abuse of that message with the sole purpose of aggravating the police for recreational purposes and awarding oneself a badge of courage in not revolutionary. In fact, it is, by definition, reactionary and arguably self-defeating as well.

Further ironies in this situation surface when we examine the fact that Tim's wife recently opened a bourgeois pastry shop. At far-from-affordable prices, this blind-spot in the eyes of local regulators sits just three short blocks from Sam Bond's Garage.

There was a time when the locally-owned, organic, grocery store, the Red Barn, situated at the corner of Fourth and Blair, was frequently vandalized in the name of anarchy. Although they have since ceased, at the time, the store made weekly donations of organic produce to the local faction of Food Not Bombs. This was the same organization responsible for feeding a large majority of individuals who were opposed to this monument of gentrification. But, even that aside, I don't see the anarchistic benefit of eliminating locally owned groceries to make way for national chains, such as Safeway, who carry neither organic produce nor locally owned products.

Directly across the street from Sam Bond's, also on the corner of Fourth and Blair, sits Hilda's, a Latin American restaurant with prices, which would be considered expensive, even by middle class standards. For some reason this restaurant has never come under attack for helping to gentrify the neighborhood. The major catalyst for this is probably the fact that it's owned by Latin Americans. It would seem that our ethnic-sensitive Whiteaker residents are very cautious about making any accusations that might be construed as being "racist." Apparently these accusations include common sense, something surprisingly absent from the local leftist communities.

And if that wasn't enough, on the last corner of this controversial square sits the Tiny Tavern, a bar that once thrived off the economy of this area's logging industry, long before the Whiteaker's artisan community took its foothold. Along with several other establishments in the area, this bar, the most frequented watering hole of the local anarchists, stands out as beacon of refuge for those of lower income, which in case it hasn't been made clear up until now, is the entire neighborhood.

With all of these surrounding establishments, the question arises as to what exactly constitutes "gentrification" in the minds of local anarchists. Perhaps this is a question that they need to answer for themselves.