DURANGO, Colo.—The huge bulletin board outside the Durango Natural Foods Co-op front door is a psychedelic montage of homemade fliers advertising a variety of items, including futons and home-baked huckleberry pie.
This bulletin board is not alone—similarly crowded announcements grace the walls of stores and shops around town. In the age of Craigslist, smartphones and social networks, this old-school form of communication still thrives in Durango.
Some say the bulletin boards’ appeal lies in their character—from their crazy disorganization to their unbridled expressiveness. The bulletin board’s paper jungle is full of heartfelt notes adorned with art that reflects a personality.
“It makes hunting for what you want like an adventure because you see news that surprises you about your community,” said Ashley Edwards, co-op assistant manager. “I play in a band, and we always advertise on this board. Yes, you may get more eyeballs on Craigslist. But people who will be a great audience—curious about new things, supportive of the community, fun—come here.”
That trust is a key element in Durangoans’ decision when they choose bulletin boards for their dispatches. Many Durangoans younger than 30 said crafting a social media ad feels like work or spam. But when it comes to forging an authentic bond with someone, they turn to handcrafted ads on a battered board.
“Roommate Wanted” fliers from women are commonplace at the co-op. Someone named Jennifer asked for a roomie with a good heart, a balanced checkbook and a yummy fudge recipe.
In a phone interview, Jennifer Thomas said a bulletin board draws fewer weirdos.
“Craigslist probably attracts maniacs because it takes a few clicks of a keyboard to send a creepy email. Maniacs don’t want to drive to a co-op, look at a board where anyone can see them till they finally find a flier. There are easier ways to be creepy.”
Staff members take down the board’s material at the start of each month so the news doesn’t get stale. But customers find the material so fascinating as a guide to Durango life, the old material is archived in a plastic box bolted to a picnic table next to the bulletin board. Customers love to read through the tattered fliers.
At Nature’s Oasis, there are seven bulletin boards covered with slick posters, homemade notices and business cards. A plastic bag full of push pins hangs from one board so customers can help themselves.
There’s a yoga contest giving prizes for the “loudest ommmmm, best hair and outfit, most enlightened being.” There’s a lonely hearts poster featuring a huge photo of a “recently widowed rooster” desperately seeking “two to three mature hens to share a nice two-story coop.” A poster advertises “Raindrop Therapy from a Certified Raindrop Therapist.”
Store manager Daniel Pelletier keeps the boards as tidy as he can, but does not censor them.
“I can’t think of anything we wouldn’t post; I’d probably even put up a poster advertising sexual therapy if it were a Tantric class,” Pelletier said.
Customers often tell Nature’s Oasis and co-op managers they are charmed by ads for unusual services, like a free Mobile Prayer Ministry, which dispatches prayer teams to the ailing. But the store does not vet ads, so customers must determine for themselves whether ads such as one for cranial massage therapy, which promises to “step boldly into a patient’s dark places with luminary tools,” are credible.
To avoid being linked to fliers’ with questionable claims, south City Market and Albertsons in Durango decided to post only posters from civic organizations and local events announcements. City Market manager Steve Collins is unsure whether his store’s board will remain.
“It draws people in the door,” Collins said, watching young and elderly people cluster around the board next to the front entrance. “Maybe the question corporate asks is whether people buy anything once they look at the board.”
Pelletier shrugs at that question.
“Corporate mentality is whacked; if boards make people happy, it creates a good vibe for the store,” Pelletier said. “There’s an element of trust in this form of public communication. We trust our customers to make intelligent decisions and respect each other.”
That trust prompted Nell Paul to advertise for a caretaker for her special-needs daughter on a Nature’s Oasis board. Below a photo of her daughter is a handwritten note: “My name is Ashley. I’m almost 10. I don’t talk yet. I am not potty trained … I need help with social skills.”
Paul hired someone who responded to the ad.
“The emotional connection I wanted to create for my daughter and the right companion would never come through in Craigslist,” Paul said. “I didn’t want lots of people calling. If someone came to a nice place like Oasis and took time to study the boards, my chances of getting a patient, kind person were good.”
