A few weeks ago at a jazz club I was at, a pianist told the story of a song he wrote called Jellyfish. He explained that in his mind, the lines of music wove together like tentacles. I guess that's the same image I get every time I think about that book I haven't stopped blabbing about, Farm City. Everything Novella brings up in her book keeps on finding its way into my life these days.
1) The first tentacle, if you will, is quite straight forward. In the early months of the fall, I spent a lot of my time working at City Slicker Farms in Oakland. More than a few times, City Slickers is mentioned in the book and I can only help but picture myself weeding at the Ralph Bunche Nursery or composting at the Herb Farm every time I read about it.
2) The second tentacle is my dad's ex student. Mentioned in the book mostly as the rabbit lady and also as Novella's friend, she is one of the people who is responsible for my interest in agriculture and food sustainability.
3) The third tentacle takes a bit of background...
Mostly it's because I think Sacramento is an underrated street. It connects everything in a secret way. Grounded in the cute Monterey Market neighborhood it runs (four-lanes wide) across Dwight, Ashby, Alcatraz and even Adeline. More importantly, it swings right above my mom's house. From there, the freeway is a quick minute to the West and the rest is just a few blocks East. The possibilities are endless.
Besides its convenient location, it also houses various interesting spectacles. On any given day, anyone passing down Sacramento can see any range of businesses: from the eccentric birdhouse crafter to the various nursing homes in the more timid Berkeley side, the street then ploughs through a tougher neighborhood where a handful of questionable cafés have sprung up, and a produce stand is set up in the middle of all the gunshots. Further along are various sketchy jewelry stores, a jiu jitsu studio, and the ever crowded gas station which seems to sell more beer than gas.
Driving down Sacramento, this corner has always been very central. There's a stoplight and I guess something about the way the lights are timed, you always have to stop there no matter what. I really don't think I've ever gotten to that intersection with a green light. But no matter, waiting for the light to change gives you time to look around, to watch the old guys sitting on plastic beach chairs at the station conversing, the clunker cars tricked out with spinners filling up on gas.
Lately though, there hasn't been much action there. Ever since the gas station became Berkeley's BioFuel Oasis, I don't see people hanging out around there. Ever.
Well, as Patrick (the intern at City Slickers, refer to tentacle #1) told me, it's Novella's newest project. I would be critical and say that her project kinda took out the the life of the party but having now finished her book I've learned a thing or two about her. Even though she can be irritatingly full of herself sometimes, I can say with confidence that she is trying, and working hard at it. From what she's written, her projects always seem to work themselves out in some way or another. And at least she's someone doing something in this GhostTown anyway.
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