I feel anxious and relaxed at the same time when I pull into the liquor store parking lot on 48th street. I amuse myself when I realize that this was my destination all along. I see Randy, a smoker, or crackhead, standing near the stop sign. I don't mind seeing him. See, when you have to live around dudes like this it's different. Men twenty years older than me asking me for change, asking me for help. He looks at Matt and I realize then that without me, Matt would be looked on as prey by a lot of the people around here. One thing smokers are good for is that they know about everything that’s going on in the streets because, well, many of them literally live in the streets. He tells me who's beefing, who's in jail, who died, some good news about babies and marriages and people making moves out of L.A. Then he asks to borrow a couple of dollars because he has this thing and then this thing happened. That’s when I just cut him off and tell him it's cool, don't trip, here's a couple of dollars.
A group of guys are making their way toward us, it doesn’t take long for word to get around these blocks. It’s my peoples, my homies, the dudes my age. “West hattenin’ Wolf?” “You bring back some of that Humboldt County good?” I introduce Matt to guys with names like Superman, Godfather and Holiday, and its all relaxed smiles, handshakes and love. We’re big on nicknames around here. Not only are they fun, they might keep you out of some trouble one day
I’m over this as soon as it starts. Nothing looks different, nothing seems different. I want to see my girl, and my baby brother, who’s two, so it’s time to bounce. My homeboys and Matt found something in common that they’re passing around to each other. I finish up telling Godfather how cool everything is in Humboldt. He reminds me to write to the homies in prison. We shake hands and give each other that half-a-hug that us men do, and Matt and my homies give one another stoned invites. “Anytime you’re this way, stop by homie, you always welcome here!” When you come to Humboldt, I’ll buy you a beer!” “Fo’ sho’ homie, y’all be safe!” It feels good to watch this exchange even though I know they’ll never see each other again.
“Those guys were awesome!” Matt says with a big smile and red eyes. I say to Matt in my head, “Yeah, you think that because you don’t have to live here, you get to leave.” I start to wonder if this place has made us all recognize, celebrate and thrive off of negativity. Then I remember the drama-free lessons of peace I’ve learned in Humboldt and I stop pondering that question and enjoy these good moments and vibes for all they are. We’re back on the 110 freeway where it intersects with the 10 and the sun is setting. As we head east the maze of freeways against the orange, dusty sky is awe-inspiring for a moment, a gloomy labyrinth in a Utopia about to go wrong.
“If ever I had nowhere to go in this world that corner would be my refuge…” I got somewhere to go and people to see, my fiancé, my brothers, and then back to school. My neighborhood is my neighborhood, and I have to remember that, it’s not going anywhere and I can’t be there if I want to go somewhere. But I love L.A. Los Angeles, South-Central L.A. has culture and history, just like uptown Manhattan and D.C. We have it. So check it out, don’t be scared.
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