thirty-one: holiday cheerleader

Oh the soulless co-opting of everything sacred by Hollywood in order to spin profits.
It lacks seasons, so people spray-paint their Christmas garish glittery white,
No one here has family the holidays present two options,
One: Leave
Two: Go to a bar.
However tonight this Dive on the east side is far less shallow,
There’s something sincere in their fake trees and broken strands of lights that all the lonely leftover want-to-be’s and has-been’s seem to be swarming to.
The bartender embodies the moment and pours everyone a free shot.
(I suddenly don’t mind the Eagles playing on the jukebox)

thirty: humble pie

It takes a different kind of man to be a different kind of man,
Two guys: one behind a counter, the other behind a wallet.
An unfamiliar request and a moment of honesty,
“I don’t know what that is exactly?”
It’s hard admitting not knowing something,
After a series of attempts, taste tests and near misses, they come to a compromise.
“That’s not it exactly, but that’ll do just fine.”
During the holidays, a little bit of compassion with your consumerism is hard to find.
“Our creation is on me then”
And Wallet man drops five in the tip jar.

twenty-nine: print

On the rare occasion that a restaurant gives out free food to the needy they’re considered charitable,
Doctors who give out free medicine are considered saints,
There is an entire genre of film about Lawyers taking on cases with out pay.
In every student’s educational career they will be told, “knowledge is the key to success.”
College textbooks for a semester can cost more than a month’s rent,
The history of free civilization is a documentation of the democratization of knowledge,
So why then should it be common to see a bookstore doling it out to anyone on the street?

twenty-eight: caught

Sunday before Christmas: the time when people begin to start making their obligatory holiday visitations.
The BART is filled with bodies holding serious relative hangovers.
A younger couple sitting due to obvious family fatigue gets up for an older couple, dawning fresh grandkid smiles.
The subway begins moving as the old man tries to sit.
He nearly falls onto his back, the young man leaps into action, catching him before he hits the floor.
The BART erupts in applauds,
The old woman pulls a candy bar from her purse, however the smile on the old man’s face is reward enough.

twenty-seven: a lift

It is one of those age old tests of “do gooderness”
A stranded driver with no wallet or cash
An empty tank and no AAA card.
Here, tonight we are privy to the gas can half full.
As someone not only opens their hearts and pocketbooks to a stranger, but also their car door,
They both climb in and pull off to a fueling stop.
With all of the potential urban myths, all of the possible combinations of misread body language or mistrusted intentions here is an example of everything turning out the way it’s supposed to exactly on time.

twenty-six: weight

It’s hard to imagine an environment more saturated with socially constructed ideas about hetero-normative masculinity than a college gym.
Yet here, one man holds another’s hands in a way that is unconventional and so very strong.
One of the men happens to be nearly paralyzed, with no control over his hands yet still has power over his arms, the other able bodied, clasps the hands of his friend around this odd contraption.
They work together, making the wheels turn, at times the lines blur between who is spotting whom.
Some go to lift weights,
They go to have weight lifted.

twenty-five: cramming

Empirical evidence gleaned from repeated and recent observation seems to suggest that, Regardless of ethnicity, race, gender, sexual preference/orientation, field of study, level of education, national origin, musical preferences, recycling practices, political affiliation, previous experience or developmental familial dynamics,
When entering the Moffit Library on the UC Berkeley campus on the sixth night of finals the overwhelming majority of people hold open, open, or wait for members of a following party and then reopen the massive set of double glass doors, for strangers, members of the same or different sex, race, or gender ect…
Conclusion: on average, people are OK.

twenty-four: a full ride

Maybe its because it’s the holidays, its cold and wet outside, its late and unsafe for the young lady.
Maybe he doesn’t have anywhere else to be.
Or maybe it’s because there is nowhere else he would rather be.
She’s closing down the pharmacy, on vacuum duty.
He barrowed a friend’s car, unannounced and drove across the city to resuscitate a bit of chivalry.
They both play a bit indifferent and coy.
He walks behind her returning displaced items (also her duty), both smiling radiantly when out of eyeshot.
Maybe it’s what couples do, but it’s still nice to see.

twenty-three: to serve and protect

“Excuse me miss” is a common opener for “can you spare some change” or “what are you doing tonight.”
Unwelcome callers in this college town use both with numbing frequency.
Not often then are followed up with,
“Do you know where the police station is?”
She doesn’t, but does have an iphone and tells this rare character to hold on while she looks it up.
As her technology fails them, she confesses to vague notion of where its location and offers to walk with him.
Smiling, he declines.
Perhaps the human contact was the only real security that he needed.

twenty-two: study break

Nervous Girl kicks over glass,
It shatters,
Gracious Boy (previously drinking from glass), says its nothing and starts cleaning up glass,
Crowd of strangers huddle over wet shards, (paper towels in hand)
All start cleaning.
Nervous Girl attempts to buy Gracious Boy another drink,
Barista has made it before she orders it, and gives it to her on the house.
Everywhere people empathetically cram against strangers, as though the knowledge they seek is only imbedded in this one physical space.
Shockingly, amidst hum of productivity, everyone (from nervous to gracious) breaks form and helps to clean up some spilt milk.

twenty-one: bear territory

“If you’re riding a bike you have to smile”
Darning a bear suit in the rain, shouting into a megaphone, the man is a bit hard to miss.
“If you’re walking across the street rite now you have to smile”
It has been scientifically proven that smiling releases endorphins in the brain that create a subtle, momentary euphoria.
“Its easier to smile than it is to frown, be a good lazy American and Smile Now”
No agenda or soapbox, just a Sunday morning and a bunch of people suddenly a bit happier, or at least they look like they are.

twenty: Free Press

He undresses the paper from the glossy advertisements like a familiar lover.
Patient yet intrigued, one can tell this is a well-rehearsed, much anticipated dance, as he slides of the protective plastic guarder.
It’s a weekend edition type ritual that you can tell he spends his week longing for.
He is of a dying breed; actual paper buyers.
A young homeless man approaches his table, unable to remove his eyes from something beneath the fold.
Though he has yet to touch this page the older man hands over the story as if it were the first dolor of an investment

nineteen: sweat relief

It’s not just that it’s the last day to study before finals began, its more the fact that the weather reflects the drama and gloom of the impending crunch in its genuine unpleasantness.
It causes students to scurry in way that is particularly cockroach in nature: rapid, as though they are hiding from academia’s can of Raid.
She has left over candy from a mid-week study group, and decided to help sweeten the sting of the impending week.
Standing in the 40-degree rain, garnering a welcoming grin and a bit of empathy she passes out “study treats” and some solidarity.

eighteen: all hands on deck

The two stand hesitantly inside the gym, internally negotiating the potential route they plan on taking through the downpour that has manifested while they were sweating and stretching.
They’re strangers, waiting in opposing corners for the other to make a move, so they can calculate the errors and successes of their personal odyssey through the storm.
Unprovoked one turns to the other and points to her umbrella.
They join in the middle doorway and embark together, stumbling a bit less, but laughing a lot more than before.
Each with one wet shoulder, a worthy sacrifice for a bit of companionship.

seventeen: cleaning crew

This is clearly a systemic act of kindness; these notes are strewn though out the Moffat Library and the Free Speech Movement Café (See day one).
Their significance is two fold:
One: This note is in the men’s restroom, challenging notions of hetero-normative, overly masculine, chest beaters who care little for the emotional well being of their fellow man for fear of displaying their weakness.
Two: This has been here for over a week, during which, routine removal of graffiti stripped the walls of typical “Call ###-#### for a good time!” leaving this behind.
There’s a difference between smart and educated.

sixteen: provisions

They are giving protesters a good name…kinda
Staging peaceful occupation, providing reinforcements, nutritionally and with solidarity for the hearts, minds and economic futures of their peers.
Speakers and sleeping bags, coffee and laptops they’re working steadily and diligently to sway the administration to keep education from being swallowed up by the insatiable appetite of the corporate elite.
Chaining themselves to the building left everyone a bit burnt, so now they’re going a little Trojan Horse, sans the attack, but plus a buffet of smile.
In my mind, the revolution will not be stabilized,
But you can’t blame them for trying.

fifteen: fresh air

Dead Week began today, students have officially reached saturation point, and new knowledge is formally banned until spring.
The forecast mirrors this: a week of rain and temperatures dropping into the low thirties.
Student protesters are still sending flash-mob texts that this semester will be the end of public education.
Today though there is a moment of sunshine and fresh perspective as one bold professor preaches bravely about the institutionalization of fear as a means by which the rich elite controls poor masses.
It’s free for all in earshot, refreshing for students who could use a break in the storm.

fourteen: reason

As the storm hits, he’s nestled behind the counter in front of the space heater.
Though the fresh black and white sign on the door says “NO BIKES” he can see the shades of gray in the impending rain clouds.
“No, its ok you can bring it in.”
We talked about Johnny Cash once and the paradoxically shining insight of the Man in Black.
He saves me a soggy saddle, lets me use a debit card to buy an apple and gives me cash back for the quarters I will need to dry my clothes for the wet week ahead.

thirteen: warmth

It’s colder in the city, closer too the water, less soil and green, more concrete and steal.
But as we fold into this sardine can, packing bodies in close enough to feel each other’s breath; the urban chill becomes increasingly distant.
The dog is the first thing people notice, then the cane and then the dark glasses.
The blind couple is dressed for an occasion and its clear, though they are smiling, that they are a bit nervous and defeated by the bustle.
Instantly the crowd parts, a young punk rock couple vacates their seats, and guides them to rest.

twelve: Mother Lover

A bit out of place on Telegraph Ave. in the raucous throws of a college town Friday night.
Honestly she looks far more retired soccer mom than homeless outreach.
This hardly fazes her though as she strides the block at a mall walkers pace, finding the grimace of the cold and hungry, and warily turns the unfamiliar into friendly.
This She drove here specifically from across town where she held a business meeting with far too much food.
This was a place where she could find “some people in need.”
Her smile speaks volumes as to who really needed whom.

eleven: Tow Rope

School is similar to mountain climbing in that the hardest part comes at the end when least expected and even less welcomed
As the crawl and drag of the ninth inning of the semester comes to an abrasive halt, students cautiously trace back their steps of the previous four months.
The summit called Finals.
Nothing is more comforting than a little solidarity and hot chocolate.
The kids from the Student Action group offer a little sugar, a little caffeine, a stack of blue books and an overwhelming shot of positive attitude, like a guide rope leading back to base camp.

ten: The Provider

Following him for a quarter of a mile rakes on my patience, he moves intolerably slow, inspecting every trashcan.
(half a subway sandwich, 3/4s of a boba drink)
Setting down a half eaten deli platter and three paper cups balancing like birds on a wire,
His movement is feverish
(two more paper cups, a pizza box)
Holding far more than he can eat, I track him back to the park where he rustles a hand full of sleeping bags, and doles out the yield.
A home is not a prerequisite for a community,
Though tonight, he is the bread earner.

nine: Peace Offering

3pm is to 7-11 what the guillotine was to French royalty:
School is out.
Boundaries between playground and the real world blur through corn syrup tinted glasses, inspiring shrink rates and distrust between child and counter person.
Today, the aftermath of the rush inspired a particularly draconian atmosphere, as the owner stocked a lingering boy, late for battle.
Finally, she snapped, casting him out empty handed.
Dragging his feet across threshold, she calls out after him, does the grown up thing and brings him back offering a token free doughnut for diplomacy.
Apologies are rarely easy, no matter how sweet.