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poems about my home town Berkeley, California |
Ode To Berkeley Poems I grew up in Berkeley, California in the 60s and 70s. Here is my Ode to Berkeley poems. Someday soon I want to return to live in my spiritual homeland. Index Hark, I Hear the Spirits of Berkeley Calling Me Home. Berkeley Short Version -40 Lines Dreaming Of Returning To Berkeley Sam Adams Rambling Man, Where Do I Belong? Rambling Man -Where Do I Belong? 2 Berkeley California Growing Up In Berkeley Berkeley In The 60s And 70s Berkeley Time Travels Berkeley Nonet Berkeley Street Scene 2015 Berkeley Time Warp Stockton Time Travel Berkeley Street Scene 1974 The Cosmic Cat Hiking The Hills of My Youth Free-Roaming Berkeley as a Kid 674 Santa Rosa Avenue DNA Does Not Lie, Or Does It? My Mother’s History What Am I DNA Fortune Cookies Mary Geneva Aller -there’s Method in Her Madness, Eulogy Poem Berkeley Beckoning Me All I Learned About Life I Learned at Berkeley High School Balanced In Berkeley Berkeley 1955 Berkeley Roots Rock Communist Cats from Berkeley Thousand Oaks Berkeley California Hark, I Hear the Spirits Of Berkeley Calling Me Home. Berkeley Hark, I hear the spirits Of Berkeley Calling me home. The more I roam in this world The more I am drawn Back to the land From whence I came. Berkeley, California Is what it is And sometimes It is what it ain’t. Berkely is a “how Berkeley, can you be vibe” town, Home to CAL with 40,000 students who flood into the city nine months of the year, University professors, staff, and students, Yet Berkeley is so much more the ultimate college town. It is delicious food is everywhere around the corner sort of town, An artisanal craft beer, and spirits, coffee, herbal tea, Kombucha, and wine drinking city, where Coca-Cola is seldom served, gourmet ghetto, inventor of the new American cuisine revolution, home of Chez Panisse, the French Laundry, and so many other restaurants, a place where you can find every cuisine of the world at a most affordable price, a town where there are more restaurants per capita than anywhere else, where if you wanted to eat dinner at a different restaurant every day it would take you years to do so, with new places opening and closing every day. An anti-big box store vibe, yet with a lively small business sector, more restaurants and coffee shops per capita than almost anywhere else, lots of upscale groceries, used to have a large Co-op (my father was the President) and ethnic foods markets, organic food markets, Berkeley Bowl market, farmers markets, plus usual corporate chain food stores. MOES book rules, where Howl was written, where the beatnik writers and culture types used to hang out, and their spiritual Descendents still do. Philip K Dicks hometown, (Philip K dick dated my mom before she met my father, end personal disclosures)Thornton Wilder and so many other great writers back in the day and here and now, Jack Kerouac and Alan Ginsberg lived and loved there, Craft beer paradise, the hometown of Peets coffee, still the best damn coffee even though they have gone corporate, the coffee revolution of the late 50s and 60’s started here in the Coffee mecca of the United States, where Café Med proudly proclaimed to one and all ‘We Don’t Serve Establishment Coffee, They invented the American version of the Latte” It seems there are more coffee shops in Berkeley per capita than almost anywhere else in the country, Berkeley is also the home of a vibrant tea, smoothie, artisanal spirits, craft beer, and wine culture with urban wineries and brewpubs everywhere. A gluten-friendly city with the best GF pizza in the world the Berkeley Cheese collective, a foodies delight, A diverse although less day by day as it now a very expensive city, A very ethnic town, used to have the largest Finnish community in the U.S,, lots of Russians and Eastern Europeans back in the day, a city with people, from all the known world, where 250 different languages are spoken at home, an African-American town, used to be a very black town, 40 percent back in the 70’s now perhaps twenty percent, a middle class suburb of Oakland back in the day, but with a black lower class, working class, who are still hanging on somehow, but still a lot of my African Americans brothers and sisters hanging on despite the high rents and housing costs, many property rich but cash poor, joined by so many African immigrants and Caribbean African immigrants as well, an Asian American city, home of a vibrant Chinese-American community, Korean-American, Hispanic City, Ohlone Tribal city, Native Americans from all different tribes still around city, Japanese-American, Indian-American city, an Iranian diaspora, and now Afghani diaspora as well, French people, European people, Jewish people, but no Jewish space lasers yet, Indian-American little Bombay community where you can get the latest Bollywood movies, food and Indian political gossip, An artistic city, a creative city, Great art Museum at CAL, home of the Pacific Film Archives a real treasure for movie lovers, with more movie theaters per capita than anywhere else, A book lovers city filled with great bookstores, the best public library in the country, and the University library system is among the best in the country as well. Great one-of-kind bookstores, although sadly, Cody's and Shakespeare's books are long gone. A great music city. Great music at CAL And in the city Great acts always coming to town Or the Bay Area Live music is still alive at least it will be soon As COVID dies down Great music stores as well. Great BHS music programs Including the BHS Jazz band Where many greats got their start‘ Rock n Roll fantasy world, A Motown friendly city, A funk lovers paradise A Blues lover mecca West Coast Rap town Hip hop town And there are even country fans hometown to the Earthquake, Green Day, Jimi Hendrix’s last high school, the Rubinoos, The Psychotic Pineapple, Smoke and Fog, Tower of Power “East Bay Grease sort of town, New flash for TJ Dave – hey dude, I loved your song, you ain't Berkeley enough” just want to say I represent that remark, but I rep Berkeley worldwide dude and I am still as Berkeley as I wanna be, anywhere in the world, dude, end news flash Not to mention so many jazz players including Peter Applebaum, Jim Davidson, Joshua Redman, and so many others. A Berkeley High school rocks place, (personal disclosures I was the BHS student body president in 1973-1974), The home of the song, “Sitting by the dock of the bay,” An anti-establishment sort of city, yet filled with students studying to be part of that despised establishment, all vowing to change the world but the world always changes them into yet more high-priced corporate drones. With zany wacked out politics, a city at times lost in 1969, or lost in the future, A city where being called a “conservative “ is considered a vile insult, A very progressive city, probably the most progressive city in the country, which in my opinion is a good thing, not something to be ashamed of, A PC is a cool city that invented PC before it became a curse word of sorts, a city where there are real live Marxists, communists, and socialists but no one takes them seriously, and there are a few proto-fascist political science professors as well, The spiritual home of the beatniks, the hippies, the yippies, and sadly the weathermen The city that gave us “the Symbionese Liberation Army,” kidnapper of Patty Hearst, (Personal disclosure: the SLA briefly terrorized the Bay Area, and my family during the 70s calling my father “a fascist insect that preys on the life of the people, his offense = demanding that students and staff at the Peralta college be required to wear ID’s to combat a rise in violent crime on the campuses, my father not having a sense of humor did not like my joke when one morning I said, “Good morning fascist Insect how are you today?” My mother loved it and said “Yeah, he is a fascist insect but he is our fascist insect,” and laughed. My father merely glared at the two of us. End Personal disclosure) A Political city up the Yazoo town, a one-party town but with two rival political factions, republicans and there are some of them in town, feel like they are an endangered species, (another personal disclosure, my Dad was Curtis Cosmos Aller, the President of the Berkeley Co-op from 1968 to 1985 when he died, the President of the Peralta Board of Colleges, who ran for Congress in 1974 in the democratic primary against the legendary Ron Dellums, end personal disclosure) very few Q nuts but I am sure there are some, just as there are no doubt people who believe in the lizard shapeshifter conspiracy, (Personal note: I am a human being but once I took an online quiz to determine whether I could be part alien and the quiz said I was an alien, go figure) A very anti-Q town, pro-science, rational type of town, filled with humanists and secular humanists types, A hate bigotry town. Where Ann Coulter and her fellow right-wing followers are not welcome, A town that proudly voted against Trump – 90 percent in 2016 and 2020) proud center of the “resistance” home of Antifa, BLM rules, the birthplace of the black panthers who met at the first African American high school history class in the US in the early 60s, at BHS of course, and home of the Gray Panthers, a city whose representative is in Congress. Representative Barbara Lee, was the only representative to vote against the Iraq war in 2003, noting that Iraq had nothing to do with 9-11, to the rest of the country she was a dangerous left-wing radical, to the Bay Area, and me, a real American Patriotic hero. A very marijuana-friendly city where the joke has always been pulling out a joint and its cool, pull out a cigarette and everyone wants to send you to jail, smoking cigarettes being so uncool nowadays, At times, a very joyful city but not enough joy due to the political disputes and anger as people in Berkeley are very into political discussions and are news junkies, A very frank town where everyone has an opinion and is not afraid to speak up, Bike-friendly, an environmentally friendly city, recycling mecca, renewable energy, friendly, where the university engineers are working to solve the world’s energy problems and coming up with solutions to the climate change crisis, solar panels everywhere, transit-friendly, zip car-friendly, uber/lift friendly, BART friendly, walkable sort of town. At times hot city, living with the constant fear of the mega drought, fires and the big one, atmospheric rivers, polar vortexes, and other global warming phenomena as climate change becomes nightmarishly real, but most days the same, foggy cool mornings, nice, pleasant in the 70s afternoons, then more fog dipping into high 40s by midnight, used to be no rain between April and October just the cool morning fog, but nowadays with climate change, we get rain even in the summer, and they joke there are two seasons now in California the rainy season October to March and fire season April to October, all due to the non-existent climate change hoax, To the rest of the world, a very “Berserkly place” A Buddhist friendly city, including a Buddhist Zen Center, Chinese, Japanese, and Korean Buddhist temples and a Buddhist Seminary, A Tai-Chi mecca, Yoga centric, very Zen attitude sort of town, A liberal Christianity city where fundamentalists are not welcomed, where atheists, free thinkers, liberal Muslim, liberal Hindus, new-age types, and Wiccans are welcomed, home of several liberal Christian seminaries, a Buddhist seminary, and now a Muslim seminary all located on Seminary Hill) A city where making fun of the street preachers is a fun game for the militant atheists of the city (personal disclosures that were me back in the day, I loved to heckle Holly Hubert joined at times by my old friend Julia Vino graduate, the bubble lady who used to blow bubbles at Holly Herbert as he ranted about how we would all go to hell for our heathen ways, Holly Hubert is long gone by now as that was almost 45 years ago) A crazy city. A cool city, at times a cold city, Filled with the scent of good craziness, and sometimes very bad craziness as sometimes on a bad night things can go bad if you are in the wrong place, at the wrong time, with the wrong people, or are the victim of a drug deal gone bad when the guns come out to play to settle disputes, or knives are drawn and people get very crazy or are just unlucky to be caught up in the crossfire, or on a bad trip on bad drugs, just too many damn drugs and too many people whose minds were fried by the same damn drugs, in short Berkeley does have a dark side to it, A city of big dreamers, a fast-paced city, But for the most part, it is a friendly town, but not too friendly, A freaky place filled with freakeries, A funky vibe, a funny town all around, And you can have fun there as well as get lucky and meet the woman or man of your dreams, as there are lots of young single men and women looking for Mr. Good or Ms. Good as the case may be, An Oakland A, and SF giants town, forty-niners (although some hate them for moving to San Jose, the Northern California clone of LA. And Golden States warriors but everyone now hate the Las Vegas Raiders, as much every person born in Berkeley must hate LA, sort of the part of Berkeley and the Northern Californian DNA to be hating on LA, the LA Dodgers, and now the Las Vegas Raiders., A live and let live z tude, A loony tunes place, A happy go lucky sort of vibe city, “Hella Berkeley “city, A historical city, A Hippie town back in the day, A hip hop center, A hip city where everyone knows what hip is but can say what it is, what is hip, yal? Do you know? Hipness, like Berkeley, is what is it is and sometimes is what is not, Too many homeless people living on the streets of the city, panhandling, and becoming a nuisance, getting into everyone’s face, destroying everyone’s mellow, lonely at times city where many people have thousands of virtual friends but few real friends Very LGBTQ friendly, a feminist city, a very pro-choice town, An only in Berkeley kind of vibe, A city where people still read a lot, where newspapers have not died but are mostly read online, Home of a rich alternative press history, although sadly most have gone by the wayside, I remember the Berkeley Barb, the Berkeley Gazette, the SF Chronicle, the Bay Guardian, the East Bay Express, the Berkeley Voice, the great underground comics like Fritz the Cat, reading online Berkeley news outlets just not the same thing at all. And BHS used to have a daily newspaper, now a weekly paper although the CAL daily is still daily mostly read online. A very sad town, a special city, A city that would welcome space aliens who might already be there, and OMG place, A rainy blues sort of day place., Robots are the cool city where new robots are being developed every day, a city where people are building the singularity not fearing it, A mask up follows the science town badly hit by the COVID pandemic, particularly the small business who took in on the chin, The birth of Nanowrimo, the November write a novel in a month contest, (personal disclosure -I completed three of these) A poet friendly place where people get poetry, Rents are insane, housing prices too, the only people who can afford to buy are people with boatloads of money, and somehow there are lots of those types hanging out, and lots of people who don’t have money who somehow manage to get by, who can afford to live here? It takes serious piles of moolah, big piles of money, lots of cash, dollars up the yazoo, trust baby parents, or selling your soul to a start-up from hell, to be able to pay the rent or lots of roommates, yet people still flock to the city, how they can afford it is still a mystery to me. A stand-up guy sort city, Student-friendly, kind of a suburb of Oakland and SF, yet doing its own very Berkeley thing, Home of great city parks, San Pablo Park (home Of the annual BHS alumnus picnic) Indian Rock Peoples Park Inspiration point, Ho Chi Min Park in the 70s The Rose Garden Strawberry canyon, Tilden Park, Wildcat canyon Part of the Bay Area Ridge Trails and Bay Area Bay trails which are almost complete, doing a thru-hike of both, the Appalachian, the cross-continental, and the PC trails are among my bucket list dreams, Too cool for school, Sometimes a traffic hell place, BART trains too crowded, pickpockets and other unsavory criminal types hanging out by the BART train stations, along with high school students, the druggies, A “west Coast Rap kingdom, wine drinkers paradise, the former home of the weathermen and other leftist domestic terrorists) a wonderful world for the young at heart, a very unique city, a pro-vac place, vibrant, vegetarian and vegan friendly, yet still offering enough meat options for the carnivores, and still the ultimate university town but as you can see by now, so much more than that, yoga is God kind of town where yoga is mandatory, Yuppie place, a zany city, a zestful town, and lately a zoom work by home town, Berkeley is all of that and so more in short. Berkely is an of kind sort of place, unique in all the universe and it is my homeland, But still, I am drawn And want to return Before my time is done, As it remains My spiritual homeland. Hark, I Hear The Spirits Of Berkeley Calling Me Home – Short Version Hark, I hear the spirits Of Berkeley Calling me home. The more I roam in this world The more I am drawn Back to the land From whence I came. Berkeley, California Is what it is And sometimes It is what it ain’t. Berkely is a “how Berkeley, can you be vibe” town, an African diaspora, an Asian American city, an anti-big box store vibe, an artistic city, A Berkeley High school rocks place, the Berkeley hills, the birth of the black panthers, the spiritual home of the beatniks, bike-friendly, The Berkeley Rep rules, To the rest of the world, a very “Berserkly place” a Buddhist friendly city, filled with deep, dark memories, a vibrant Chinese-American city, creative city, Home to CAL with 40,000 students who flood into the city nine months of the year, Coffee is God Mecca, craft beer paradise, a crazy city. A cool city, a cutting edge technology, delicious food is everywhere around the corner sort of town, a diverse although less day by day as it now a very expensive city, A very unique city, a pro-vac place, vibrant, vegetarian and vegan friendly, yet still offering enough meat options for the carnivores, University professors, staff and students, city employees alike and still the ultimate university town but as you can see by now, so much more than that, yoga is God kind of town where yoga is mandatory, Yuppie place, a zany city, a zestful town, and lately a zoom work by home town, Berkeley is all of that and so more in short. Berkely is an of kind sort of place, unique in all the universe and it is my homeland, But still, I am drawn And want to return Before my time is done, As it remains My spiritual homeland. Dreaming of Returning to Berkeley Sam Adams A child of the 70s Bay Area, Having lived all over the world, Visited all 50 states And 60 countries. But in his heart He knew That soon. It would be time To return To his spiritual homeland. Berkeley, California, The center of his universe, He heard the spirits Of Berkeley calling him home. Like a salmon returning To his home waters Before dying. Berkeley Beckoning Me I grew up In Berkeley, California In the early 70s A wild and crazy time. Berkeley shaped my soul And my heart will always Long for my homeland. Berkeley was always A wild and zany place Filled with original characters Drawn to the city by the bay. The hills overlooking the city The campus filled with students The downtown shopping area The suburban housing. The street people The vendors on Telegraph The smell of marijuana Hanging in the air Long before it was legal. In some ways Berkeley seems stuck In a time warp. A certain corner Seems to be forever Stuck in 1969. The city has changed Over the years Like most places It has become harder And harder for the working class To afford to live there. The yuppies took over Decades ago But despite that the city Continues to be home To a diverse population. Little India emerged Along with Berkeley’s Chinatown The old black neighborhoods Still manages to somehow Thrive amid the gentrification. And so as my life winds down My thoughts keep returning To my ancestral home The homeland Where I wish to die. Rambling Man, Where Do I Belong? I don’t know, always moving on to another place Moved every other year it seems the last 45 years Traveled to 50 states, 55 countries, drove across the U.S. eight times Lived in Berkeley, Yakima, Stockton, Seattle, Alexandria, DC, Oregon, Korea, Thailand, India, The Eastern Caribbean, and Spain Where do I belong? Where is my home? Neither here nor there, nowhere and everywhere And so is that my rambling man’s fate Never to belong anywhere at all Rambling Man -Where Do I Belong? I have been a rambling man All my adult life Grew up in Berkeley, California Went to College in Hayward and Oberlin During my lost year Lost in a fog of booze and pot Then I came back to reality And went to college In Stockton, California The Central Valley Ohio transplanted to California Then after four years in Stockton With extended weekends And breaks in Berkeley I became an expatriate wanderer Peace Corps worker in Korea Then taught ESL in Korea For four years Occasionally returning to my home But always wanting to be elsewhere Then back to Korea And then Seattle for four years Driving back and forth to the bay area Stopping off in Southern Oregon Eventually bought a house and duplex In Southern Oregon Vaguely thinking we would retire there Some day when my rambling ways were over Then back to Korea for three more years Then I joined the Foreign Service And my wife the military And I wandered the world again Always somewhere Always dreaming of my next somewhere Never there As I was a permanent ex-pat And a diplomat to boot Never a local But never really felt I belong there Or in America That was becoming more and more A foreign land The longer I stayed away I stayed on in DC for almost ten years Off and on But never really felt that I belong there I was too West Coast in my heart And DC seemed to be Just a place to stay In between travels Stayed in Thailand Then later India And Eastern Caribbean And later Spain Traveled to 55 countries Lived in ten And now I am retired Still torn between Living the ex-pat life In Seoul, Korea And returning to the West Coast And occasionally back to DC and Florida as well And I wonder Where do I belong Where do I belong Other than wherever My wife and I end up Neither here nor there Halfway there a life in between And so is that my fate Never to belong Never to have roots in the ground Always wanting to be somewhere else Always a stranger in my native land And a stranger in my other home Across the sea There is no answer to these questions As the rambling urge comes again And I prepare to move yet again Hoping someday I will be Somewhere where I can stop These rambling blues And be there ending my life in between Berkeley California Growing up in the ’60s In Berkeley almost 50 years ago I think back At those turbulent times Those crazy wonderful times Berkeley is a wonderful place In many ways Stuck forever in 1967 A true-time travel experience Every time I go back And relive the memories Of the ’60s The 60’s never died They continue In college towns Across the world And Berkeley Remains the mecca Of the counter cultural revolution Many things have changed But the organic food revolution Became mainstream Marijuana spread out The sexual revolution Became mainstream So much of the world Is but a reflection Of the revolution of the ’60s And the conservative counter-revolution That we are still fighting So, I salute My homeland The center of my universe Growing up in Berkeley I grew up in Berkeley, California A child during the 60s and 70s Graduated high school in 1974, Crazy times Berkeley was a crazy city back then Still is to some extent But then it was the craziest place In the whole U.S. And it made an impact I will always be a Berkeley child Always have that Berkeley feel In my soul. No matter where I travel I remain at the heart A child of Berkeley Berkeley Time Travels I grew up in Berkeley, California In the turbulent fabled late '60s And in Berkeley in those days Time seems to standstill On the corner of Dwight and Telegraph Across from People's park It seems to be always May 1969 With the man Down the street Oppressing the hippies On the street As they smoked their weed Dodging the bored cops Who looked the other way If they did not partake And then I went to college In the valley And as I drove into Stockton I felt I was traveling again In time Back to the fabled '50s As Stockton was also Stuck in a time warp of sorts And as I left the Bay area And traveled the world I would come back To that corner And just be there Stuck in May 1969 Marveling at the changes That had and had not occurred To the corner of the land Forever stuck in time And space Growing Up in Berkeley with the Fascist Insect SLA My father was a local politician In the SF Bay area He was president of the Berkeley Co-Op President of the Peralta Community Colleges Because of my father’s position, And political activities He became known as a “conservative” in Berkeley, And those were fighting words. But I will always remember The time he became known Briefly as a “fascist insect.” The Symbionese Liberation Army –( the SLA )- The radical terrorist group had put out a manifesto – A hit list of people they deemed “fascist insects” And called upon the people To rise and assassinate the “fascist insects.” My father got On the SLA hit list For daring to impose a mandatory ID requirement For all students and faculty At the community colleges To combat a crime problem And for making the campuses Closed to non-students and staff. For that, he became a “fascist insect” “Enemy of the people” And must die according to the SLA. The Berkeley police dispatched police officers To guard us 24/7 Along with the other 100 Or so people on the hit list. One day I woke up, Got the paper, Chatted with the police officer on duty, As I did when I saw them, Thanking him for protecting the family, Went in and saluted my father, saying “Good morning fascist insect.” My father Being of stern German Scandinavian stock glared at me As he did not have a sense of humor. My mother, being of Irish and Cherokee background Had a great sense of humor. She came out and laughed and said, “You got that right, son. Yeah, he is a fascist insect” And saluted him and we made fun of him Until he stormed out of the house. Berkeley Street Scene 2015 Coming back to Berkeley Every year since I left Remains me how much it has changed And how little it has changed The essences of Berkeley The reasons why I keep coming back Remains the same It is a zany, wild, and crazy city Filled with energy, enthusiasm And big ideas The University remains The center of the town But Berkeley was always more Than a college town It was a black suburb of Oakland and still is It was an Asian American suburb of Oakland And remains to this day It was a welcoming place for gays and lesbians And still is And of course, it was a student hangout For Cal students and students from all over And still is It was a regional hangout for high school kids And still is BHS rocks And it was a commuter stop on the BART For white-collar workers from the city And still is It was a working-class town And some of that is still there And a center for movies And the arts And the food mecca For all the foodies in the Bay area And boy is it still the mecca For good food One can get in Berkeley Food from almost every ethnic group In the world If you can’t find it Berkeley Either in the stores Or the hundreds of ethnic joints You won’t be able to find it Anywhere else in the U.S. Over the years I tried My first Chinese My first Cambodian My first Cuban My first French My first Greek My first German my first Italian my first Korean my first Japanese My first Indonesian my first Mexican My first Russian my first Spanish My first Vietnamese And my first New Californian cuisine And my first Mc Donald’s And Burger King first gourmet burger first BBQ First sashimi first sushi great sandwiches great salads great pizzas great pasta great wine greet craft beer great artisan spirits great marijuana as well. And of course Who can forget Their first Peet’s coffee? And who can forget Tilden Park Inspiration Point at sunrise And Wildcat canyon? One day while glazing at the sunset Over the bay bridge I declared that Berkeley was the center Of my universe So, I end this love song To Berkeley California Truly the center Of this man’s universe 2009 Berkeley Time Warp Time travel is possible I do it every year When I return to Berkeley And go to the corner of Dwight and Telegraph Down the street from People’s Park I enter a time wrap And find me in 1967 It is always 1967 With the sweet smell of pot In the air And the merchants selling Tie die tea shirts And talking shit And the students walking by And the older generation Walking by in nostalgic memories Of when it was the 60’s and everything seemed possible We would change the world And then Nixon came And the world turned ugly fast And furious And we have been on a dark trip Ever since those days Especially during the Trumpian nightmare We are just getting out of But in Berkeley At Dwight and Telegraph the resistance to trumpism continues growing stronger The 60’s live on Long live the 60’s Stockton Time Travel When I was going to college in Stockton, California in the 70s It seemed as if every time I went to Stockton I was going through a time and space wormhole And emerging on the other end In an Ohio farm town circa 1959 Then returning to Berkeley And arriving in the mid-’70s Except for Telegraph Avenue Which is always stuck in 1967. The time travel wormhole collapsed As Stockton over time Became an outer suburb of Sacramento And the greater Bay Area But the valley remains A different time and space Then the Bay Area And so, time travel is still The way to go When going to the valley From Berkeley Berkeley Street Scene 1974 Growing up in Berkeley In the late ’60s and early to mid-’70s Was such a trip Berkeley and the Bay Area Were already becoming Almost a separate country From the rest of the United States And Berkeley was already Such a diverse place My high school had over 4,000 students From over 150 countries And had openly gay students And even transgender students Decades before that became common Elsewhere in the country My best friends were Jewish, Irish, Black, Half Black Half White, Black and Asian And I was the student body president I belonged to no particular clique Rather floated between different groups And that is why perhaps I was a success Berkeley taught me so much And being there Taught me so much I lived through such a turbulent time The black panthers The black revolution The sexual revolution The anti-war movement We had tear gas days And we used to hang out On Telegraph watching the riots Or watching the street preachers On more peaceful days And boy did we enjoy Cheap eats Oscar's Burgers Pizza Chinese food And hot dogs TOP DOG rules And sneaking over to CAL To crash Fraternity parties And get some free drinks Life was interesting In those days And I will never Forgot The life lessons I learned in the streets Of Berkeley in the ’70s 674 Santa Rosa Avenue, Berkeley, California My childhood home for almost 15 years was 674 Santa Rosa Berkeley California A five-bedroom adobe California home on the side of a hill at the bottom of the Berkeley hills in the Thousand Oaks Neighborhood You entered on the top floor across the street, you entered on the bottom floor thus, it was in the Berkeley Hills The house had a large deck with a perfect view of the golden gate We used to sit outside watching the sunset as we ate dinner My Mom and Dad would have their first of many nightly cocktails on the deck Before retreating inside to continue their nightly fights and arguments I grew up downstairs hearing their constant words of hatred, dismay, and outrage yet still with profound love despite their differences My parents were the proverbial odd couple Perhaps never should have married But despite the hate there was still some love that kept them together throughout the years We had a rec room with a pool table and I hung out there with my friends My mother tolerated my friends most of the time she would be somewhat sober until after they left And the madness came over her as she drank her whisky and wine The basement rooms was added later was my younger brother’s room later was my room Whenever I visited from college days hiding out downstairs avoiding my mad mother My old room lay abandoned filled with books thousands of books that I had read over the years When she died I should have taken all the books with me back to DC Instead, I took about one hundred just no space for the books of my childhood memories Thousand Oaks, Berkeley I grew up in the Thousand Oaks neighborhood of Berkeley, California when they build the neighborhood back in the twenties the developers tried to save as many of the old oak trees as they could building around the trees rather than clear-cutting the lots as so many developers tended to do so the neighborhood had hundreds of old oak trees including one in my front yard and I often thought how the neighborhood was special because of the old trees that stood as witnesses to the history of the town and I wondered what they thought what the trees knew about the people who lived among them but the trees remained silent whenever I asked them about the history of the neighborhood Not a tree thing to speak up Balanced in Berkeley Born in Berkeley, California a product of the wild ’70s just a lost white brother hanging about downtown brothers can you hang about listen to me lover wildness left from the 60’ des want to fly away from California brothers leave the 60’s ride away my lover can you dig that without a doubt born in Berkeley, California. 1955 Berkeley The day I was born was the day that Rock N Roll was born on a Cincinnati Radio station Roll Over Beethoven by Chuck Berry was the first Rock song officially played on the radio coincidence, I think not for I was born rocking and a rolling the day I burst out on the stage yelling whoa Jake here I am! In Oakland I was the only white baby born at the Kaiser hospital near my father's house in the ghetto in West Berkeley where junior professors lived escaped the draft due to a typo on my birth certificate born on the 30th at 4 am the night nurse typed October 29 and that became my legal birthday and of course I celebrate both days Why the hell not? And Howl was written in Berkeley and performed in SF many great writers lived there including the great Philip K Dick who briefly dated my Mom before she met my father a few years later I attended Thousand Oaks a mostly white school in a neighborhood that was becoming Berkeley's China town later went to King which was 40 black 40 percent white 10 percent Asian 10 percent Hispanic When I graduated from BHS the percentages had barely changed still, the majority were the minority and still is as far as I know BHS school 1972 to 1974 we had tear gas days when the students revolted and were chased down the street we went to Cal to watch the demonstrations and cheer them on we all hated the war many of our older siblings had gone and died the black panther party was founded at BHS Jimi Hendrix's last school same with the CCR Green Day and so many other great and not so great bands and a famous porn star an NBA player and associated others who can forget Peets coffee Jamba Juice Cheese Collective Oscars – now closed Giant Burgers? Bongo Burgers? Top Dog And the other quirky Berkeley establishment Where establishment coffee was never served! A few joined the State Department with me as well I never went to CAL My two brothers did They had better grades than me Better test scores too As I traveled the world These last decades There is something That I will always remember You can take someone Out of Berkeley But you can’t take Berkeley out of them For you will always remain Berkeley to the core The best city In the known universe Long live Berkeley The center of my universe And the home of my heart I know that someday I will return I am still Berkeley enough Dude! All that I know About Life I Learned at Berkeley High School All that I know about life and how to deal with people I learned while attending BHS in Berkeley, California back in the distant '70s so many memories so many different people from all over the world in what was the most multicultural high school in the country back then 4, 000 students from everywhere in the world yet we were all together and learned to get along I ran for student body president and won the election no one thought I would win For I was a classic nerd but somehow I won the election and somehow managed to keep our little student council working together amid terrible times all around us the ending of the Vietnam war Watergate and other corruption news the 1974 election student activism in the first high school to offer African American studies the class that had launched the black panther party Jimi Hendrix's last high school I took Latin one of the few public schools that still offered Latin and was on the debate team but always taking a far right-wing theme as complete mockery decades before Stephen Colbert perfected it yes everything I learned in life began at Berkeley High School Berkeley Roots Rock So many musicians got their start at my alma mater Berkeley High School just to name a few Jimi Hendrix's last high school was Berkeley High Green Day Started there as did the Rubinoos Earthquake Smoke and Fog My friend Jim Davison Played in the Jazz band and who can forget the immortal Creedence Clearwater Revival? Though they went to El Cerrito High School Berkeley High School was and is such a special place where dreams come to fruition and life begins for so many students Free-Range Child in Berkeley Back in the day Before helicopter parents, Children were all free-range kids Going everywhere The parents mostly okay With that. And so, I went Everywhere on foot Or bus or BART Walking to Solano Avenue Drinking coffee At Peets coffee Eating Chinese food In Berkeley’s China town Walking downtown Walking to CAL Eating top dog Experiencing the late 60’s Transforming Telegraph And walking in the woods In Tilden Park High up in the hills Overlooking the bay area Tilden Park I have been hiking these woods Since I was a child Over 50 years ago Inspiration point was my favorite And the haunted forest That crowns the hill And where I went just before Attending my mother’s funeral It is a special place Filled with memories And great views Of the ever-changing bay area Tilden Park Haiku Inspiration Point High up in the Berkeley Hills With a killer View Hiking the Hills of My Youth I grew up in Berkeley, California in the ’60s. Ever since I was a youngster I would wander the hills of Berkeley hiking for hours by myself and sometimes with my friends. I explored every nook and cranny every corner of the hills and got to know nature in its infinite beauty. Ever since those days, I have longed for the day that I could spend my days hiking and wandering the hills. Now that I am retired and living in Korea I can go for a long walk in the hills every day I want. It is different from the hills I grew up, no vistas of the bay and it is in Korea to boot but most days it is sufficient as I head out early afternoon and conquer four or five miles of hills just enjoying the fact that I can still move and am still very much alive at age 62. I grew up hiking the hills of Berkeley, California Grew up knowing every corner of the hills And the infinite beauty of the Bay Area And now I find myself in a strange land With time on my hands I wander the hills above the airport In Incheon Korea And wander about here and there Just being grateful That I am still alive And kicking at age 62 What Am I DNA Fortune Cookies I just finished two rounds of DNA testing The results were shocking and unreal They revealed much of what I knew And left gaping holes in my past life The one thing that I know for sure Is that I am 100 percent American 100 percent Californian 100 percent Berkeley Yes I am Berkeley enough The tests say that I am mostly Scandinavian Norwegian, Swedish, Danish, Dutch, perhaps Finnish, and perhaps Laplander That I know is real The tests also reveal that I have lots of Irish, Scottish, and Welsh background – also true The tests hint at Jewish ancestry also hinted in family lore The surprises were that they missed most of my native ancestry The lost tribe of the Cherokees are lost to the DNA database as well The test failed to recognize my substantial German heritage missing my German last name The test also claimed that I have Italian and Southeast European ancestors the tests confirmed that I have Eastern European ancestry And the tests claim that like most people with Eastern European roots I am part Mongolian thanks to Genghis Khan and Attila the Hun The real surprise though is the African American that popped up That is also consistent with my mother’s tangled history The lost tribe of the Cherokees ran away into the hills And mixed in with Scott Irish mountain farmers Other Indians, and runaway slaves In the end, the DNA tests neither confirmed Nor denied my family tangled history Leaving many questions behind Almost as enigmatic as a fortune cookie Or an astrological prediction My Mother’s History published in Ceracus Review One day many a year ago My mother spoke to me About her family’s tangled history She spoke to me Of lies, half-truths, and myths Some of which may have been true And throughout the evening Her history came alive She was born in the hills of North Little Rock The 10th of 11 children Of an ancient dying race The Cherokees who had run away The lost tribe of the Cherokees Homeless since the trail of tears Refusniks Refugees who fled in the hills Rather than join the rest In the promised land Of Oklahoma Her people disappeared From history’s eyes They did not exist I did not exist My history was over As was hers And so I learned at last The painful truth That due to the crimes of politicians So long ago My mother’s people Lost their land, their culture, and their hope And became downtrodden forgotten people Hillbillies they were called Living in the hills and mountain dales Clinging to the dim fading memories Of their once glorious past As proud Cherokees Now no one knew their name The old ways were forgotten And the new world never forgave them And they never forgave the new world As they lived on In the margins of society Forgotten people And I vowed that as long as I lived Their history would not die As I knew the truth And I would become a proud Cherokee And make my mother proud of me And my accomplishments And so when I am down and out I recall her stories and her warnings And realize it is up to me To live my life To let the Cherokee in me Live his life And in so doing My mother’s history does not die It lives on in me Until the day I die Long live the Cherokee nation Long live my mother The Wit and Wisdom of Mary Geneva Aldridge Aller -"There's Method in Her Madness" Dedicated to My Mother Who Passed on July 31, 2005. Published in Contra Costa Times August 2005 Mary Geneva Aller We are here today To celebrate the life Of Mary Geneva Aldridge Wilson Aller, My mother. As we are gathered together to mark her passing On to another, better world, I thought we should reflect On her life and its meaning. Therefore, I have a message That I hope we all leave here today. I call this speech, 'the wit and wisdom of Mary Geneva Aldridge Wilson aller, " there's a method in her madness." Which was one of her favorite Shakespeare quotes. I hope we will see the wisdom That my mother tried so hard to impart And what I hope I have learned from 52 years of watching The life of my mother. What have I have learned? From Mary's life And her death And what we can all learn From her 85 years of experience In this mad crazy corner Of the world, she loved so dearly. She was a true Berkeley original, and it is only fitting That we bury her Here are a few blocks From where she spent Much of her life. What can we learn? From Mary’s life in this world? Her favorite song from a musical was "stop the world. I want to get off." And today she gets her final wish As she leaves this world And moves on to another world. My mother grew up In Arkansas In what could best be described As hill country folk. She was the 8th child of 10 children Born on a family farm in the 1920s High up in the Ozark mountains North of Little Rock, Arkansas. She graduated from high school And lit out for the west coast just as millions of people Fled the dust bowl of the late '30s and '40s. She arrived in the SF area And settled in Berkeley. She hated being considered an Oakie and lost her accent she cultivated an accent She learned from The classical radio deejays. She then became involved In labor and democratic politics. She became a telephone operator union president, Later was a real estate salesperson, And became involved with the save the bay movement And the league of women's voters. During the 60's she accompanied My father to Washington DC When he was undersecretary of labor. She could not wait to get back To her beloved Berkeley Because she felt at home In the zany openness of the bay area She once said “every ten years the world flips And all the nuts roll downhill To California That is how she got there Part of the planetary nut reconfiguration program A little known federal ABC agency “ She hated DC As it reminded her why She left the south so many years before. In later years she helped my father In his many political campaigns And was his business manager for almost 10 years when he ran an economic consulting business. When she retired, She kept her love of reading Until just a few short years ago When she finally Was no longer able to read. That for me was one Of the saddest parts of her final years As she loved to read. What we all learned from Mary - Mary's wisdom can be broken Down into four areas: Question authority, Think for ourselves read everything there is, And always do the right thing. She always told us that we should question authority and that we should never trust experts. She said often what is an expert? Just a guy with a PH. D And we all know what means – Piled high and deep. And she laughed As she was married to PH. D And hated campus politics. She hated with disdain Almost all politicians Except for Truman and Kennedy And she had her own Truman story She thought they were all crooks and liars, Especially the southern-bred types. She believed though in equal opportunity And hated republicans as much as democrats. No one ever measured Up to her high standards Of ethical behavior. She often told us to do The right thing. But she refused to tell us what would be As we had to figure That out on our own. My final thoughts Are on reading the lifelong Love of books That she gave me and my siblings. She read an average of three to five books Per week every week of her life. We were always trading books Stocking up books on our visits To the family library As I thought of it. I have taken a part in the library With me and will treasure all the books That she shared with me and my siblings. She always had an opinion About everything. One of her and my favorite books Was the world according to Garp And there was a "world according to Mary" Where what you saw was what you got And if you did not like her opinion, then you had best get out of the way Because Mary, Was afraid of no one And always stood her ground no matter what. With Mary "what you saw was what you got." But I am happy that she Let me in the "world according to Mary" And I have lots of stories from her life that would make great fiction, For, in Mary's improbable life, Life was truly stranger than fiction. Because my mother grew up in a Christian family, It would be appropriate to read a bible quote. My mother was raised as a Baptist Although she left the church After asking the minister, "if god created the world, Who created God?" Here is one of her favorite bible quotes Ecclesiastes 12 (King James version) Ecclesiastes 12 1remember now thy creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them. 2while the sun, or the light, or the moon, or the stars, be not darkened, nor the clouds return after the rain: 3in the day when the keepers of the house shall tremble, and the strong men shall bow themselves, and the grinders cease because they are few, and those that look out of the windows be darkened, 4and the doors shall be shut in the streets when the sound of the grinding is low, and he shall rise at the voice of the bird, and all the daughters of music shall be brought low. 5also when they shall be afraid of that which is high, and fears shall be in the way, and the almond tree shall flourish, and the grasshopper shall be a burden, and desire shall fail: because man goth to his long home and the mourners go about the streets: 7then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall return unto a God who gave it. 8vanity of vanities, saith the preacher; all is vanity. 9and moreover, because the preacher was wise, he still taught the people knowledge; yea, he gave good heed, and sought out, and set in order many proverbs. 10the preacher sought to find out acceptable words: and that which was written was upright, even words of truth. 11the words of the wise are as gods, and as nails fastened by the masters of assemblies, which are given from one shepherd. 12and further, by these, my son, be admonished: of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh. 13let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: fear God and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man. 14for God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil. Her minister friend said the short version is " life is good. Then we die And it gets even better." When Mary was a telephone union president, word came down that she was invited to meet Harry Truman. She replied I don’t want to meet Harry unless he wants to meet me. Hearing that quip, Harry was amused And sent his advance team to talk Some sense into that feisty fiery woman Out in SF that Mary Aller. Two government types, dressed as I do, showed up Asked her if she was a communist She responded Boy, are you stupid? If I were a communist, would I tell you? I don’t think so. Where do they get people? Like you anyway? The SF chronicle captured the moment With a huge headline, "Harry meets Mary." This sums up my mother's fearless feisty Stubborn personality and yes, Truman was one of the few politicians That got the Mary aller seal of approval Now my final Mary story Sums up her life for me. In 1974 I was in this play, the madwomen of the chalet Where I played the waiter Whose line was "she's not mad. She's the madwomen of Chaillot." But Mary was in the audience And I lost my character for a moment and said, "she not's mad, She's the madwoman of Berkeley, oops I meant Chaillot." Brought down the house. I went home thinking I had done it, insulted my mom in front of the whole school. She laughed And said that was okay as she liked the phase. I said "well, Mary, You are my madwoman of Berkeley And I'll have it no other way. She laughed And that was the end of it, until now. When I say, "Mary, you were one of the most original people Whoever lived, And I treasure the fact that I was your son. You were at times Very difficult to deal With but in the end, Your good karma Will outlive you As you always did the right thing, and for that And all the other words Of wisdom, I learned over the years, I salute you, Our beloved madwomen of Berkeley. The Cosmic Cat from Berkeley I next encountered the divine Many years later in Berkeley, California I had gone home to be with my Mother While taking leave from my job In the Foreign Service I had two weeks there by myself My wife came later Near the end of the trip Every morning I woke up Had coffee Did yoga Spoke to my mother Who was sliding into dementia Day by day losing her reason Then I would go out And explore the city Go to a museum Go to one neighborhood And just be there Rediscovering the Bay area After years of being away Having dinner with old friends Seeing movies etc Every morning a black cat came to visit The cat was friendly and waited for me And then would join me in my morning rambles Following me to the bus stop I started talking to the black cat He looked at me with the spark of divinity In his dark eyes I called him the cosmic cat He seemed to like that He would look at me And I opened up to me Told the cat all my dark secrets As I walked the streets Of the old neighborhood Every morning and every evening the cat Would be there to greet me And to carry out our endless conversation Then I had to leave And in our final conversation I asked the cosmic cat Say, Cat are you just a cat Or are you a demonic cat Are you possessed by God Or by Satan? The cat looked at me And I realized that God Was indeed residing in the cat But that god was residing everywhere All I had to do was open my mind And the rest would follow So I said Goodbye to the cosmic cat And he purred and came up to me And I felt the comforting presence of the divine As I said goodbye to the cosmic cat And said goodbye to my mother As this was the last time That we would be able to talk I told my mother about the cosmic cat She smiled and said that the cat Was there for me and her To comfort us both in our hour of need And that the cat was indeed A cosmic cat Cosmic Cat Nonet Cosmic cat from Berkeley The cosmic cat was my best friend He spent almost two weeks with me Going everywhere I went Just waiting for me The cosmic cat Was he god Or just Cat Cat Cosmic In nightmares The cat still comes Many years later Appearing In my dreams The Cat comes every night Cosmic cat spark of the divine A god for sure sent the cat to me I salute the cosmic cat from Berkely. Communist Cats of Berkeley growing up in Berkeley in the infamous 70s My best friend’s father Was a Jewish Communist real estate agent and his mother was a vegan Buddhist Nun he grew up to become a carnivorous Shakespearean actor they had five cats, two dogs and three mischievous monkeys who lived in the trees the cats were named Stalin, Mao, and Lenin communist hero cats Stalin was the ringleader A black panther-like cat who was mean as hell Mao was a pussy cat a real pushover and kind to all Lenin was mischievous always getting into trouble they had two dogs both Scotch terriers Trotsky and Goldman two real bad assed proletarian dogs the monkeys Ho Chi Minh and Che lived in the trees and chased me throwing fruit at me when they saw me boy do I miss my communist cat buddies the leftist dogs and the mischievous monkeys of my fabled youth The End |