Tucked away near the dressing room of almost every women’s section in nearly every department store in the United States, there’s a comfortable chair or sofa that almost always seems to be occupied by a husband or boyfriend waiting for his female companion to try on some clothing. Some people truly enjoy helping their partners pick out new clothes. This gentleman in this drawing, however, seemed more impatient than engaged. In fact, I noticed him and his female companion because of his body language. His jaw was set, his arms were crossed, and his brow was furrowed in a way that suggested disgruntlement. There were two other men in the seating area near that day, and he was the only one who seemed to be in a bad mood, probably because he was also the only one who hadn’t brought something to read.
This guy has got to be one of the best dressed graduate students I’ve ever seen. We were using side-by-side microfilm readers in the UC Berkeley microfilm lab, when I noted his Oliver Peoples eyeglass frames, perfectly fitting t-shirt, and leather pants. When I was in graduate school, I and several of my colleagues noticed that many of the best dressed Ph.D. students on campus could be found in the art history department. I wouldn’t be surprised if the man sitting next to me was in art history at UCB. If I ever run into him again, I’ll definitely ask about his department. If my hypothesis is correct, I’ll report back, perhaps with another drawing of what is sure to be another great outfit.
The cold weather of the last couple days makes it easy to forget that the Oakland weather was downright summery just a week or so ago. It might be February, but that didn’t stop people of all ages from putting on their favorite summer gear and going outside to play. During this warm spell, it seemed like every basketball court in the city was packed. These were the same courts that were practically empty just a few days before. The player in this drawing stood out for his locks, pulled into a clasp on the back of his head (which isn’t visible in this drawing), and for his height. He was one of the few people at this particular park who was actually tall enough to be in the NBA. Whoever had him on their team was probably going to win that day, at least if he was as good as he was tall.
This drawing is based on a man I saw at a bookstore in Alameda. He was actually sitting on a chair backwards, with his hands dangling over the back of it. I replaced the chair with a image evoking the circular railing around the rotunda in the Wisconsin state legislature. Not surprisingly, the Wisconsin uprising has been on my mind a lot this week. After all, I was raised by two public school teachers, two of my grandparents were public school teachers, and at least one of my great-grandparents was a public school teacher. Not only did the teachers in my family provide a loving and stable home for me; the teachers in my primary and secondary school classrooms changed my life by opening to me a world of critical thinking and intellectual inquiry. At my overwhelmingly white public high school, in particular, I got the kind of rigorous, academically challenging education that Black kids aren’t supposed to be able to get. My teachers believed in me, and I believe in them…and in their right to collective bargaining.
Went to the movies tonight, at the Century 16 Bayfair in San Leandro. The last film I saw at that theater was a matinee, and there was barely anyone in the theater. Imagine my surprise, then, when I arrived just before 9pm on Saturday night to see big crowds of people outside at the ticket counter, milling around in the lobby, and lining up for popcorn and refreshments. I was waiting in a line for popcorn which was several people deep, and other moviegoers keep shouldering their way past us get to the soft drinks and candy. The man in this drawing was standing just past the register. He was waiting for his wife and kids who were in line behind me. He had an exasperated look on his face, and I remember that his hands were posed in a position that made him look like he was playing an invisible violin.
This is the companion piece to yesterday’s drawing, which depicted a guy I saw at my very favorite taqueria. He was enjoying a giant burrito, and his expression made be smile because he looked just as content as I always feel when I’m eating there. The friend he was sitting with looked less like he was enjoying his meal and more like he was wondering why that weird preppy in the corner booth (me) was staring at him and his buddy.
I spotted this man at my favorite taqueria. He was enjoying a super burrito and a bowl of chips, and I loved that the look on his face captures exactly how I feel when I’m there–relaxed, satisfied, and happy. It’s not just an eating experience, you see. It’s a bright airy place with lots of windows, kelly green trim inside, and paintings and models of parrots on and around the ceiling. It’s the kind of place people come for lunch with a newspaper or a group of friends and stay a lot longer than is necessary. The food is served very quickly and it’s fast and easy to eat, but no one is in a rush to finish or to leave. It’s like a little oasis in the middle of the busy workday, and I can tell I’m not the only one who loves being there. I see the same faces over and over and some of them might also end up on this blog…if they catch my eye.
During the last week or so, I’ve been paying a lot of attention to older men. I saw this man at the Starbucks off the Dutton and Estudillo exit of I-580, in San Leandro. I noticed him, because when I am at a cafe I notice everyone who comes in just to read and relax. I’m sort of a telecommuter, and I go to cafes to work. This gentleman came in with his Economist magazine, ordered one of those fancy coffees with whip cream on top, and proceeded to enjoy reading and drinking his beverage for the next couple hours. He was, in a word, chillin’. He read his magazine cover to cover, taking generous breaks to listen in on the conversations around him. The expression he is wearing in this drawing is the face he made while listening to a couple one table over. He was listening so intently that he completely stopped even trying to hide the fact that he was eavesdropping.
Yesterday was Valentine’s Day, and like many people, I spent part of the afternoon shopping for the perfect card. At the stationary store, I was part of a throng of people crammed into the 9-foot wide area where they displayed all of the holiday cards. We were delicately and politely reaching over and around each other. I guess I wasn’t delicate enough. I accidentally elbowed the man in this drawing. When I turned to him to apologize, I saw that he had the most beautiful white gray hair and beard. I told him I was sorry for bumping into him, and he smiled in that way older folks sometimes do when they encounter a young person who’s stressed out about things that, in the long run, don’t really, truly matter.
Running into men who look like they could be members of the Village People is a common occurrence in the San Francisco Bay Area, particularly in retail settings like Crate and Barrel, CB2, and the men’s Macy’s on Stockton. With their handlebar mustaches, close-cropped hair and v-shaped torsos, they seem to be part of a secret and silent brotherhood of unduly fit 40-somethings who love tastefully understated furniture. And yet, at least in San Francisco, few members of this tribe are men of African descent. So when, during a recent trip to the CB2 on Ellis Street, I ran into the brother in this picture — well — I knew he would end up as a drawing.
