I saw this guy at Farmer Joe’s grocery store, on Superbowl Sunday. Something about him gave the strong impression that he was not buying snacks for the big game. Perhaps it was the fact that among all the carts and hand baskets of tortilla chips, salsa, and beer his cart held some kiwis, a jar of organic egg whites, and a can of pea soup. But it wasn’t his curious food selections that drew my attention to him. The reason I remember him so well is because I loved his glasses. The frames themselves were black and incredibly round and heavy. It’s a style that makes me look like an owl with two black eyes, but I always admire the look on those who can carry it off. In a moment when vanity drives many to hide their need for corrective lenses, it’s a wonderful contrast to see those whose vanity drives them in the opposite direction.
8-Rock
PS: I still wonder what he did with those kiwis and egg whites and that can of pea soup.
Even though it’s been a month since my trip to Seattle, I’m still making drawings inspired by the people I saw there. This man was sitting at a table near the window at Roy Street Coffee & Tea. In the drawing, he appears to be looking directly at the viewer and, in fact, he did look directly at me when we walked in, probably because it was pretty obvious that we were ducking into the the cafe to get out of the snow. He caught my eye because he was one of only a couple of other Black people in a very large cafe (which is a wonderful place to read or study, by the way) and because he was wearing nothing but a t-shirt and jeans (and shoes, of course), on one of the coldest days of the year. In this drawing I replaced, the book and coffee cup that were on his table with my 8-Rock logo. I just know that if he’d had the choice to either sit at a regular table or sit at a table decorated with my logo, he would have chosen the latter. In this drawing, I’m just giving him his chance. He can thank me later.
If ever there was a thankless job, its the rental car counter associate. How this particular employee maintained his cool despite the long, long line of customers at the SeaTac Airport Enterprise desk remains a mystery to me. After a long flight from who knows where, each customer seemed to be in a less than ideal mood, and this brotha’s his ability to maintain a calm and welcoming demeanor bordered on the heroic. When I reached the front of the line, this guy was busy serving another client, and so I had to go to a different associate. That person was also kind and welcoming. He even gave me a free upgrade. So, if you happen to be holding a drink in your hand, raise a glass to the associates at the Enterprise car rental at SeaTac Airport. Cheers, and thanks for the midsize car.
At few weeks ago a friend needed a ride back home from the Kaiser Permanente hospital after a short outpatient procedure. After I pulled into the pick-up area, I had to wait for a few minutes for them to wheel her out to the car. This guy was waiting for someone too, but he wasn’t sitting in his car the way I was. He was standing beside it, leaning on the left front door, staring at nothing in particular and drumming his fingers against his thigh. He seemed to be contemplating something sad and important.
When I was dropping off a couple paintings in downtown San Francisco, I spotted this man near the corner of Pine St. and Market. Among the pinstriped suits, crisp shirts and power ties that populate the financial district, his tweed jacket and oxford shirt made him look more like a humanities professor than a professional financier. For the background, I replaced the 100 California St. building with an Empire State Building that I built out of the barcode from my logo.
A couple weeks ago I re-read the novel Huckleberry Finn, and ever since then I’ve been combing through old magazines–really old magazines–for their drawings of enslaved Black people. My drawing for today is inspired by some of those oldengravings, from 19th century issues of Harper’s, especially. I slightly altered some of the clothing and the poses from those drawings, but my 21st-century sensibility is evident in the expression on the subject’s face. I’d like to think he looks dignified, wise, and defiant .
If you’ve spend any amount of time in an African American community, then you are familiar with the phenomenon of the Sunday suit. It’s analog in Black women’s clothing is the Sunday hat. But there are those older gentlemen — mostly in their 60s and older — who wear a Sunday suit every day of the week. In Oakland, one of the places where these style-conscious gentlemen gather is at the Merritt Restaurant and Bakery near Lake Merritt. On any given day you can find some of the most stylish older brothers you’ll ever want to see, dressed in some of the most wonderful suits — both vintage and contemporary — along with matching shoes, hats, and ties. I don’t get to Merritt Restaurant as often as I used to, but when I do get a chance to stop in, I always find these sharply-dressed men an inspiration. I can only hope that one day, in 30 or 40 years, I will have both their presence of mind and their sense of style.
I recently returned from Seattle. It was an interesting trip for a variety of reasons. For one thing, I really didn’t see very many Black people in Seattle. NYC/Atlanta/Oakland/D.C. it ain’t, at least when it comes to racial and ethnic diversity. That doesn’t mean it’s a bad place; but after living in Oakland for the last 11 years, the homogeneity of the place was a bit of a shock. So when I did see other Black folks in Seattle, they really stood out for me. The other reason this man caught my attention was because his pose reminded me of two of my favorite images, this wonderful photo of James Baldwin and the famous portrait of Sylvia von Harden by the painter Otto Dix.
When I was a kid growing up on Long Island I used to love those occasions when a field trip or other event gave me the opportunity to ride the Long Island Railroad (LIRR). I loved watching all the commuters. With their trench coats and briefcases and newspapers, they all looked so official and purposeful and adult. I looked forward to the day when I too would board the train, not as a kid on a school outing, but as a adult employee of some New York city museum — perhaps The Met — taking the train to get to my job every day. That day would never come. I ended became an English professor instead of a museum administrator, and I’ve never lived more than 10 minutes away from my work. So when I recently had the opportunity to take the train into downtown San Francisco for a several days of meetings, I enjoyed watching the other commuters just as much as I used to when I was a kid. The commuters were a lot more different colors and genders than when I was child, and there were very few trench coats. But they looked just as official and purposeful, and traveling to work alongside them made me think of my 9- or 10-year-old self and smile.
I could be that I have Superbowl on the brain, but it seems that everywhere I look I’m seeing big middle-aged guys who look like they must have been football players when they were younger. This includes my barber who, in fact, did play football when he was in school. The man in this drawing appeared to be about mid-40s. I saw him at the big Whole Foods in downtown Oakland. He was around 6’2″ and solid 250. My guess? Lineback for either Big Ten school or an HBCU.
When it’s NBA championship season, if wonder if I’ll start spotting for hoop players everywhere I look!
