I was in the Oakland Childrens Chorus like a hundred years ago. Okay, well, 25 years ago. Seems like a hundred.
We sang some of everything. Performed around the state, went to camp each year up on the Feather River.
For a while our music director was Larry Batiste, a jazz musician who played with Bill Summers and other local artists. He penned a tune called "Oakland, You Are My Song". A very pretty little song, and it would be really cool if I quoted it right now but I can only remember part of the chorus and a piece of a verse. "Oakland, you are my song/and you-ou are where I belong".
We sang it at the dedication ceremony for City Center Plaza. You know, down by the 12th St BART station, where all the shops & stuff are.
I was down that way not long ago, looking in the windows. There's a lot of nice merchandise to buy there, if you've got any money. I don't. I had enough that day for a coffee, though. Got me a sugar-free vanilla latte and sat down on a bench. I watched people. The folx going back & forth from the office on breaks & overly long errands. Students looking calm and unhurried wandered by with coffee and heavy bookbags. A short man in a suit stopped to check himself in a store window. He ran his hand over his barbered head and rubbed his neat beard. He smiled at himself before he hurried on his way.
I heard a familiar voice and looked up to see my play-sister walking by with a coworker. "Tammy!" I yelled out. She turned. "What's up girl?" We hugged and gossipped and I spoke to her coworker, who I'd gone to Oakland High with. We chopped it up for ten minutes or so, until they had to get back to their office. A short time after that my girl Lori walked up. She works with Tammy, and Tammy'd told her I was outside chilling. We did the hugging and gossipping and chopping it up too and when she left I sat there sipping my coffee and smiling.
The fountain wasn't running that afternoon. It was cold but bright and sunny. The water in the bottom of the fountain gave off glints of platinum that hurt your eyes for a second. A ragged pigeon pecked at some Fritos someone'd dropped and I got up to leave. I tossed my empty coffee cup into a trash can and wished I had the money to get another. Or a pepperoni slice. I wished I had a job, a paycheck. Walking out of City Center I heard a car's stereo playing "Rebel Music". I bopped my head a lil' bit.
Someone behind me yelled to someone else, and I looked back, nosy. I could see the Federal Building way out past the City Center walkway and the people streaming from it to City Center and back looked like a cartoon representation of a busy city street. The sun was bright and made everything look half-there.
I went across Broadway to Walgreens. I got a cottage cheese and when I went to pay for it with my EBT card, I found out that that Walgreens doesn't accept food stamps. Rite Aid didn't either. I was too tired to walk down to Chinatown so I just got on the bus and went home.
When I got home I realized I'd left my lighter on the bench in City Center Plaza. I hope someone found it who really needed a cigarette and couldn't find a light. I hope someone took it and carved their initials into it with a nail file. I hope someone found it and compulsively flicked the wheel until the butane ran out. I hope it found another life in City Center Plaza.
We sang some of everything. Performed around the state, went to camp each year up on the Feather River.
For a while our music director was Larry Batiste, a jazz musician who played with Bill Summers and other local artists. He penned a tune called "Oakland, You Are My Song". A very pretty little song, and it would be really cool if I quoted it right now but I can only remember part of the chorus and a piece of a verse. "Oakland, you are my song/and you-ou are where I belong".
We sang it at the dedication ceremony for City Center Plaza. You know, down by the 12th St BART station, where all the shops & stuff are.
I was down that way not long ago, looking in the windows. There's a lot of nice merchandise to buy there, if you've got any money. I don't. I had enough that day for a coffee, though. Got me a sugar-free vanilla latte and sat down on a bench. I watched people. The folx going back & forth from the office on breaks & overly long errands. Students looking calm and unhurried wandered by with coffee and heavy bookbags. A short man in a suit stopped to check himself in a store window. He ran his hand over his barbered head and rubbed his neat beard. He smiled at himself before he hurried on his way.
I heard a familiar voice and looked up to see my play-sister walking by with a coworker. "Tammy!" I yelled out. She turned. "What's up girl?" We hugged and gossipped and I spoke to her coworker, who I'd gone to Oakland High with. We chopped it up for ten minutes or so, until they had to get back to their office. A short time after that my girl Lori walked up. She works with Tammy, and Tammy'd told her I was outside chilling. We did the hugging and gossipping and chopping it up too and when she left I sat there sipping my coffee and smiling.
The fountain wasn't running that afternoon. It was cold but bright and sunny. The water in the bottom of the fountain gave off glints of platinum that hurt your eyes for a second. A ragged pigeon pecked at some Fritos someone'd dropped and I got up to leave. I tossed my empty coffee cup into a trash can and wished I had the money to get another. Or a pepperoni slice. I wished I had a job, a paycheck. Walking out of City Center I heard a car's stereo playing "Rebel Music". I bopped my head a lil' bit.
Someone behind me yelled to someone else, and I looked back, nosy. I could see the Federal Building way out past the City Center walkway and the people streaming from it to City Center and back looked like a cartoon representation of a busy city street. The sun was bright and made everything look half-there.
I went across Broadway to Walgreens. I got a cottage cheese and when I went to pay for it with my EBT card, I found out that that Walgreens doesn't accept food stamps. Rite Aid didn't either. I was too tired to walk down to Chinatown so I just got on the bus and went home.
When I got home I realized I'd left my lighter on the bench in City Center Plaza. I hope someone found it who really needed a cigarette and couldn't find a light. I hope someone took it and carved their initials into it with a nail file. I hope someone found it and compulsively flicked the wheel until the butane ran out. I hope it found another life in City Center Plaza.
posted by Starmama at
1:49 PM
