We decided to leave for Oakland pretty early in the morning. We were used to public transportation and had no problem asking what bus to take. I left Zac with the nice people at the desk of the dorm. I wasn't worried, would have been much worse to take him to Oakland with me. Back in those days a lot, I should say all, public buildings and offices wouldn't allow animals of any kind.
Oh, just so you know... I slept in the slightly stinky sleeping bag every night. For some reason the snails only crawled into that bag and Zac enjoyed them.
I don't know the address but it was downtown Oakland somewhere. The main workforce, unemployment place in the city. Just a quick trip and it was a different world. Right next to one another. Berkeley... hippies, free speech movement, partly the Beats; Oakland... inner city grittiness, Black Panther headquarters, jazz and soul. I'm no expert, I was just there. Later on I learned from someone that there's a rich part in the hills but I didn't see it.
I usually didn't have much of a feeling of being out of place. I logically knew I was a bit peculiar. I didn't like being around the uppity or those that thought they were better than others. I started going into the city at a fairly young age and it was an exploration, but I was always careful. The pirate inside of me fought any worries about switching up my surroundings. Three guardian spirits helped me out and I recently had that God experience in Berkeley too.
I was just along for the ride. I'm sticking with the panhandling, plus Zac loved it. So in the old days you had to do a lot of waiting on line. Government agencies, the bank, the army. Many characters hit the unemployment office. I wish I could remember more about the clientele. If I underwent hypnosis there might be something left in there, but I'm thinking the activities later on in the day kind of clouded that out. You could be sure in 1972 Oakland that there were plenty of people wearing the colorful styles of the day. And things that weren't stylish but individual. I could also tell you that there were probably a few nodding out, but plenty of hard workers too. Just down and needing work. You could also be sure that it was mostly men in there looking for work. How times have changed in a lot of ways. If you looked at the Help Wanted in the newspaper, the categories were split between men and women. Manual labor jobs for the men. Secretary and waitress for the women. If you were high scale you probably weren't looking in the want ads, but there weren't that many spots for the gals. My Dad had hopes I would be a photographer for a newspaper. I had hopes for the Left Banke or at least a farm somewhere.
If by chance you were collecting unemployment you had to go in once a week to give them your sheet of places you applied. They'd look you in the eye and try to size you up. "No. I'm not lying. I went to these places." "Well, I'm going to check." "Ok. You do that." What a time! You actually walked into a place and asked if they were hiring? Maybe they hired you on the spot or maybe you filled out an application.
This wasn't that though. LBJ just wanted some leads. They make up a file, give you a number and a case worker. They also filled out a little yellow booklet that you kept. It had the dates that you came into the office and the name and addresses of job leads they throw your way. Ok. He got a couple of leads. We were in there for hours. Let's get out of here.
Walkers we were. We weren't in a big hurry, we were looking around. It was a pretty heavy part of the city. A Black Panther office. I see there was an office at 14th and Perlata and that makes sense with where we ended up later. I remember walking down a street with a different scene. Men in afros and berets, dressed all in black. But there were lots of happy neighborhood people too. The Panthers were working with their neighbors on food distribution. Kids were going to school. It was their neighborhood and part of the thing was to do "for the people." Politics aside, this was on a local and personal level, and that's a good thing. I suppose the food and school wasn't being forced on anyone. And that's where it's at. You find your own freedom without hurting the innocent or forcing your way of living on everyone.
Everyone walked that street with respect for themselves and others. Little white girl with blonde hair had no problem there. No street talkin' at me or my beau. But we kept walking. I don't know how or where we ate but I bet it was good.
There was already a little line out front. No buying in advance. You stood out front and talked with whoever you were with and sometimes with everyone else in line. No picking out your little seat. You stood on line with everyone else and you were able to pick out your damn seat when you went in there. No moaning or groaning. No reservations. No wine. Just candy, popcorn and soda.
We got there early enough that we got pretty good seats. Maybe about six rows back on the left side. I do remember my positioning because I became more aware of things than usual. Sitting there. Yum. I think we got a small popcorn. I didn't eat a bunch of junk food. The theater started filling up.
Ok. This was an experience. Richard Pryor would confirm this. Huh. LBJ noticed that we were the only white people in the entire theater. That's weird. So what. This is Oakland.
I wish I had a way to make this into a movie scene. The audience really got into it. I heard lots of talking to the movie. Prince Mamuwalde was a hero. Things really started picking up when Blacula claimed his first victims after being wronged so badly by Dracula.
Now people were randomly standing up and yelling in support of Blacula. Then the rest of the audience would shout in support. About two rows behind me someone got up and yelled "Kill those white honkies!" It was all over the theater. "Yeah motherfucker. They need to die." I was getting a little freaked. I started to sink into my seat.
"Should we leave?" I whispered to LBJ all cowardly. "No. That's worse. Just don't make a scene." The longer I was there the more I was getting into watching, just so long as I could sit there. You know? Wow. They were all having a hell of a time. Lovin' it. This was an eye opener for me. Maybe I wasn't as cool as I thought. Even the way I'm writing now is repressed and uptight. That's always a good lesson.
The movie was over and we just trucked on out of there. No big deal. All's good. I'm sorry that was my only experience in 70's Oakland. Wish I had made it over to some of the music venues.
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