Author: harold

Crazy week son. I did so many different things. Yesterday was pretty awesome, travelled to Pasadena to get my landlord’s car and pick up some stuff for me from my friends over Burbank. I’m thankful for that sunset from my balcony, seriously. So good. Bad part is it’s starting earlier, I can’t eat at 18:48/6:48pm watching it.

Next week I finally have that behind the wheel driving test, after I drove a minivan for hours last week, I should be good. Yeah, you can drive with a temporary driver’s license and you need your own car to pass the test, it doesn’t really make sense (in France, you can’t drive until you have your license and they provide the car for the test because you’re not supposed to drive remember?).

Things I’ve been told:

“You don’t sound French…” said a cool dude, kindly all suspicious and shit.

“I need to make a gif of you walking, you look like straight out of Foxy Brown.” said a cool girl, laughing.

“LOOK AT IT” said a Uber driver, showing me how we’re the only car on my boulevard at 1:45am.

I haven’t gotten a flat tire in hundreds of miles on my bike and the odds are totally against me now. Do not like.

It’s not pessimistic, brother, because this is the blues. We are blues people. The blues aren’t pessimistic. We’re prisoners of hope but we tell the truth and the truth is dark. That’s different.

Cornel West, laying it down for me.

That prisoner of hope thing is the only thing that wakes me up and makes me want to do better. Powered by despair, batteries not included.

I broke down, in tears watching the video of that man getting arrested for sitting on a bench. Couldn’t cry for weeks with Ferguson and all the horrible lack of justice permeating our black lives (so many stories, so many) and this one really brought the “I can’t” in my eyes.

Then to make sure I would be blue the entire weekend I watched the documentary Noirs de France on YouTube, the story of black people in France from the mid 1700s to now, reminding me how and why I have been feeling more and more uncomfortable there. The past year in Paris, because I had problems speaking French I went up a notch on the racist scale, I could read the “that dude is a fucking immigrant who can’t speak” faces but I didn’t care. I’ve seen more, enjoyed more and took more shit than you dear cashier so your pesky judgmental attitude can’t even reach my toes. Fall back.

It’s not just that I have hope I’m also living it more often than not, being friends with so many different and awesome people. In just three months my black ass got new white, black, Mexican and Jewish friends of course Gaza and Ferguson feel like a breach in space time continuum, an insecure past that doesn’t match what I’m living. August 2014 showed me how far society is from me and how fragile multiculturalism is. August 2014 denies my life so much I want to punch that month in the face and choke it to sleep. Fuck you, August 2014.

Exhausting.

Fascinating to witness how the news deployed:

– A young black man killed. Black people lose their shit, white people stay mostly silent.

– Militarized police takes action, fucks the press over. Black people lose their shit, white people too.

Just this shows how race and lack of empathy are connected –not my race? I don’t feel anything- and it is so blatant and widespread it’s hard to watch in real time at a large scale.

I keep thinking of those white mass shooters, incarcerated and not killed on sight. I think of Christopher Dorner black ex LAPD cop who went on a rampage on police officers over “abuse allegations” (like it’s not plausible with any PD in the US). Burned down in a mountain cabin like it totally makes sense. Black life has no value on this planet.

I keep thinking of Mike Brown’s mom words: “do you know how hard it was to get him off the streets?” And she did, for nothing. Her son was executed. The situation could be so much worse down there. There is such a monstrous brewing anger in all of us black people watching this shit unfold for decades, dozens of Mike Brown after dozens of Mike Brown. You have no idea.

My white family that I love is completely out of my black experience, so hard. They don’t want to know, I told my sister she’s not even moved or feel for me. They’re fine sticking their heads in the sand, in their bubble being like “oh that’s why you’re sad?”. Jesus fuck, man.

I moved to CA. I just got my temporary driver’s license. I’m so scared to get arrested. What if I had just a little too much fun and the night ends up like the worst nightmare or even the End? I’m a target. At the same time I know it will probably not happen because I’m wary as fuck, I’ll use Uber as much as I can and unlike this poor guy I knew. But hell, that constant vigilance shit is exhausting.

I’m in Atwater Village for 3 weeks which Wikipedia tells me is 1.4% black. I live now in a 93% Latino and black neighborhood so the change is felt, people don’t look at me the same way here, courtesy is pretty dry. Always disappointing to experience first hand. The first days walking the dog, wearing my hoodie, I wasn’t feeling great. It’s beautiful around though.

I’m so tired of this constant anxiety. Nothing makes sense, nothing matters when you are in the position of potentially getting killed by the police knowing they’ll get away with it. Nothing matters.

When waiting a bit before commenting is really useful.

Robin Williams had Parkinson’s.

Now I totally get why an overworked and alcoholic actor who had an amazing life would end his life at 63. I don’t feel like he chickened out he just had enough of our bullshit, knew it would just be awful for the rest of his days. His body, his thoughts, his rights. The environment made him do it, not him. Would he have been able to change his surrounding and be unknown again without a terrible disease creeping up, I’m sure he’d be riding his bike up to 100.

So many people go “check your mental health!” but never question the very environment that makes us think of doing something brutal and definitive. The amount of horseshit in this world coupled with an incurable, painful, slow disease are very strong and valid arguments to end this all on your terms.

Having taken care of my grandpa slowly dying for 10 years of Parkinson’s I even think Robin was brave. Thinking ahead, generous.

It is heavy, man. I was at the restaurant with my only black friend who wanted prime ribs when I break the Missouri news to him via Twitter. The restaurant is super dark and calm. Before that we were chatting outside in the sun and he was telling me how happy he was to have a black friend with whom he can talk about tech and economy and business models because all of his black friends don’t give a damn about all that.

Dissonance. Trying to keep it positive though. I know, a black student dies, riots, white people crying Gaza kids and a famous actor like they’re part of their own family while being completely silent over stuff happening to US citizens, the usual.

Staying focused. Trying to. Sometimes it’s just so damn hard.

I’m living in Atwater for a little while. I have slept in 7 different locations in 3 months, it could be 700 and it wouldn’t feel weird.

I’m in a cute condo with a lawn an old dog, a fish and a Roomba. Tons of visual art in every room. Yeah, I’m starting a new trend of using visual art to describe  what is commonly called art. So that I can tell people “I’m not making music, I’m composing art thank you”.

Things are a little crazy, change of routine. The other day my Uber driver had a Tesla Model S (my verdict: a bit space-douchey) which is weird because you’re not supposed to drive anyone around with a car that expensive. Dude might have been fired, I just understood that he had just got divorced. Awkward silence after that but I had arrived at my destination.

Speaking of driving I’m going to the DMV next week. So frustrating to pass tests when you’ve been driving for almost 20 years with no accident ever, in most weather, with an incredible density of assholes (Paris, périph!) and that you’re back to the basics. I should be OK I guess. Then I might start driving a Prius and drop people all around the county because that’s what people do now.

I keep seeing the “omg kids dying!” headlines and I’m always surprised. Why the fuck do you think we humans are mostly against war? It’s because civilians die with them, weaker people die first with them, women get raped with them and people get tortured with them. War is that big nasty package and if you’re stupid enough to believe that we can have “respectful” wars, with soldiers –aren’t they too young to die too?- following “rules” and UN laws, I want the name of the drug you are using. You shouldn’t use that shit anymore.

“Don’t you know that a hard dick and an empty wallet don’t match?” is something I’m telling myself these days, it makes me chuckle and then I feel better.

It’s been a week that I’ve been working on my jump shot a hour a day. I mean a week going to a playground and work those dead shoulders of mine, locked in front of a computer or locked by playing bass.

It appears that throwing your hands in the air like you care to put that ball in is good for you.

I feel fifteen again, only with mad experience. Everything is open, adventure time. I’m 35 and grabbing that rim, still (I’m 1,74/5’9 shut up), I still can swish from downtown on a jumper. Fear of injury is making us weak like motherfuckers but our bodies are not dead at all once we pass the triple decade, who knew?? Everyone? All right smarty pants.

This is the Paul R Residence in Lafayette Square. Some soft, chill music was coming out from the balcony, I still wish I had been up there enjoying it with a drink. The square is immaculate and sort of gated so no traffic going through. Beautiful, old trees all around.

I did the West Adams Heights Sugar Hill too. It’s quite fantastic, though you can tell how the I-10 cutting through that beautiful neighborhood tarnished the area forever. Man, houses there are not like this one above there’s nothing modern it’s all Victorian, MASSIVE houses. I mean so impressive I couldn’t even think about taking pictures, I was just blown away. So many different structures and pretty amazing and brilliant woodwork (damn those windows frames!). I need to go back.

The thing is those houses are just not made for a Mediterranean weather, at all. So, many are dying burned by the sun and not being taken care of, thanks cheap landlords (to their defense, that’s huge work). They must be hot as hell. Kind of sad because they are pretty unique.

Spotted this car in Leimert Park. Leimert Park is so charming and walkable. The way the Leimert Boulevard is set up makes me think of a black Versailles. The little downtown makes me think of little cities in the south of France, peaceful. I’m excited to be 15 minutes away from it.

View Park/Windsor Hills, son. Most houses are in the Spanish colonial style, which I kind of don’t like so much except when the landscaping is done right and the house layout isn’t too douche-y. Quite rare. Otherwise it’s pretty much like the Baldwin Hills with smaller houses in general, except for a couple like this one. It is insanely calm up there like you are in the middle of the Alps.

Next neighborhood will be Ladera Heights. Apparently a lot of mid-century modern shit that I love there, exciting!