Who doesn’t love a brother with a big ol’ gold hoop earring in one ear. It’s kind of old school, but that made it look all the more distinctive. This guy looked like a Black Mr. Clean, but with hair, and I don’t mean that as an insult. Mr. Clean’s got style. He’s working a little bit of a Jean Genet meets Gaultier thing, which can’t help but look cool. The same goes for this brother, who turned more than a few heads with his simple-but-attention-getting presentation. The best part about it was that he had to be at least mid-40s but, as is common among my people, that didn’t keep him from looking fly.
I passed this guy on my way into the High Street Walgreens. It was his eyes that I noticed. It might sound like a cliche, but there seemed to be something in his gaze that was wise, worldly and a little bit sad, and that’s not something I often see in the eyes of someone so young. He seemed to be about 18 or 19, but his gaze seemed to suggest a lifetime of experience. I always associate the late teens with feelings of hope and invincibility, but he looked less hopeful and more vulnerable that I am accustomed to and even comfortable with seeing in young Black men. I’m going to have to think about why that might be…
Last week, there was a teenage kid in the parking lot of the Farmer’s Joe’s grocery store approaching customers with a clipboard and asking them to purchase newspaper subscription. This is not an uncommon sight in the East Bay; but no one ever seems too happy to see these young men, and I can’t imagine that their efforts are terribly profitable. The man in this drawing was pretty much fed up with being approached for money in the parking lot, or at least that’s what I gathered from the bits of conversation that I overheard. Most of the people who the high school kid attempted to approach just walked away quickly without really looking at him, and I give the man in this drawing at least some credit for speaking to the young man. Still, soliciting donors in a grocery store parking lot is a tough row to hoe. I feel for these kids. I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t do this is they weren’t told to by some adult. I hope at least some of any profits that they do make comes back to them.
This guy was the only non-costumed person sitting at a table of rowdy, costume-clad men and women on the Saturday before Halloween, at La Penca Azul restaurant, on Park Street in Alameda. I’m not sure if I remembered this guy because of that, or because my love of this restaurant places me in a state of heightened awareness while I am there. From the moment the server places those warm tortilla chips and that bowl of fresh salsa on the table, I immediately become more present in the moment. Colors are more vivid, lights are brighter, and time slows down so that I notice everything and everyone around me.
Okay … Maybe I’m exaggerating; but La Penca Azul, joins Jong Ga Korean Barbecue and Sneakers Sports Bar in San Carlos as one of my food happy places. I love the atmosphere as much as the phone. It’s not fancy, but it’s consistent and reliable, kind of like me.
I greeted this gentleman outside the 7-11 on MacArthur Blvd. He was kind enough to hold the door open for me as I was exiting with two bottles of sparkling water. It was early November, and there was a full moon. His friendly gesture and accompanying smile made an impression on me and I drew this picture of him when I got home.
PS: Perrier is currently on two-for-one special at area 7-11 stores.
Every Tuesday I drive out onto Brookdale Ave, across high street, across 35th and over to my niece’s preschool. We always have the most interesting conversations on the way back to my house. She notices everything and everyone, and she has questions about all of it. This man was sitting on the sidelines of the basketball court at Brookdale and High. My niece wanted to know whether or not he was someone’s grandfather and, if he was someone’s grandfather, which one of the children playing on the court was his grandchild? My niece will be five in the spring, and she’s very interested in family connections and relationships. Whenever she sees someone who is not obviously connected to someone else, she wants to know where their parents/children/grandchildren are. Her family is the center of her life, and she applies that framework to everything she sees, and there’s something really sweet and wonderful about that.
It’s veteran’s day, and so I tried to think of any veterans I may have seen in recent weeks. I spend a lot of time in Alameda, where there is a fairly significant presence of both veterans and active duty military. I still remember this guy because he seemdc so distinctive, with his olive green jacket and pants and his heavy sunglasses, all worn indoors. He was sitting across the table from me in the upstairs quiet reading area at the Alameda Free Library. I knew he was a veteran because he was wearing fatigues of a sort, and because he had a stack of books with veteran in the title. I am, in many ways, fascinated by veterans, especially veterans of war. I always wonder how one integrates into his or her life such an intense and anomalous experience. Of course, some people never really do.
Happy Veteran’s Day to all, with humble respect for those who have served during peacetime and during times of war. And for those veterans who have passed on, may you Rest In Peace.
I am not a regular Trader Joe’s shopper, and when I go there I am usually way too focused to notice anyone or anything around me. I noticed this guy, though, because just about everything he was wearing, including his glasses, looked like a clothing item I either own or used to own. This was of particular interest to me because while he is a 30-something man, I am a 40-something woman. I wonder what this man would have done if I’d gone up to him and asked, “Hey, give me back my sweater, home boy!” I didn’t have the gumption to ask, but if I see him again, and he’s wearing an Ajuan-style outfit, he’s going to have some explaining to do!
I passed this brother on my way into the Everett and Jones Barbecue restaurant on MacArthur Blvd. It was the night of the third game in the World Series, and I couldn’t tell what was making him smile more, the fact that the Giants had pulled ahead or the delicious bag of take-out barbecue in his arms. I was smiling too, but not because of the Giants. I was happy for their victory and all, but a baseball game can’t hold a candle to Everett and Jones hot links. Their greens aren’t too bad either.
