Back in Oaktown

hey,

my father used to always say, 'get to steppin'.
i dunno' maybe 'cause he was always steppin'; around, out, about...he was a restless soul.
we used to wake up every morning between 3&4. i mean he did. but if i caught him sitting up by candle light, he there at the table with a cup of cowboy style coffee (boiled grounds), we'd be up in a flash ready to take an early morning drive.
usually we'd go to the airport and watch the airplanes take off.

forgive me, but there something about the town right now that has me reminiscing.


i'm back in the bay, and was steppin' my damned self out at the tracks in E.O.
i didn't have much time in between a training and an after hours appointment.
taking care of business.

at the tracks.
there was something bright and beautiful there, the flix are here.
i thought about these on the way home- as it sat in a series of zeros and ones in the form of something digital.
knowing i had just picked up something more soulful than the case it was in..when

a scraper went by bumping something deliciously discreet- below pop radar and ridiculously groovy. the windows were up and it wasn't loud enough to make out...
soulful brothers in a soulful case.

just a late Summer commute hour; Fruitvale in the East O.


i'll let you check 'em for yourself...
-b

p.s. in living memory of Mike Dream and Plato