Thanksgiving last night was way far away in a brand-new, half-built suburb where some of my family lives. I'm glad my siblings and parents have moved around so much while I've stayed put, because it's given me a chance to see many beautiful parts of California I would otherwise be ignorant of. On the other hand, last night's conversation turned to the inevitable Oakland-bashing, with comments about me having to duck gunfire (not true, though New Year's Eve is a good time to stay indoors--you can hear automatics going off, and the bullets have to come down somewhere) and having my cars stolen (true--three times last year, and my car battery was stolen on Sunday in broad daylight in front of BART).
OK, you may have read recently that our property crime is up--way up. But my beat officer also said how woefully understaffed our police force is for a city our size. We're trying to fix it, but money isn't the only problem--there is a shortage of candidates right now. I think the idea of hiring police technicians to take low-priority reports is worthwhile.
In the meantime, I left Thanksgiving with a sour taste in my mouth. "Why don't you sell your massively overpriced house and move up here to be close to family," my brother said. "Hey bro, I didn't move away from my family, my family moved away from me," I pointed out. And, as amply documented, I simply do not leave places, jobs or people. Even if I get rich as a musician, and that is my plan for 2008 :-), I will never sell this house.
Therefore, for no one's edification but my own, I thought I would list the ways I adore Oakland:
1. The weather. Best in the nation. Most year-long sunlight of any Bay Area city, and no fog. My garden is proof. I can grow anything from cactus to fern to ficus, outdoors!
2. The hills. So beautiful, and unlike Berkeley or San Francisco, no mentally ill homeless people are living in them. East Bay Regional Park Service is the best! Five minutes from home, I can be running on a sunny, grassy trail with my dogs, completely alone. The redwoods, the forget-me-nots, the poppies, the maidenhair ferns, the hawks and crows and foxes and mountain lions and turkeys and owls and bats (at dusk) are plentiful, too.
3. The architecture. California bungalows, Craftsman, Normandy, Victorian, Art-Deco and modern buildings abound. I find these brand-new cities with their big-box strip-mall retail so boring! And what are these people going to do without cars when the oil runs out?
4. The culture. This is huge. As a musician I can't imagine being anywhere else, unless it was a music city (Los Angeles, Austin, Seattle, New Orleans, Nashville or New York). Having played Sacramento a lot this year, I've heard directly from those musicians that a) you can count on one hand the qualified players on each instrument there and b) they all drive to the San Francisco Bay for gigs.
5. The diversity. There's a reason Silicon Valley is here. Studies have found that areas with a high "Bohemian index" (intellectuals, artists, entrepreneurs, gay communities, ethnic minorities and immigrants) have extremely high rates of innovation and business growth. We are mecca for the country and the world's best minds. You can feel that spirit in the air, even on the grubbiest street. There may be misery, injustice and poverty, but there's never that soulless, Dust Bowl sense of abandonment. There is life here, exploding in every direction.
6. The size. Oakland is just the right size. Not too big, not too small. The first time I went to New York City, the shocking population density and noise left me reeling, though it was exciting. Coming home, I realized that San Francisco is still in many ways a kitschy little boom town.
7. The pace. Life is relaxed here. I can go to school to pick up my son in workout clothes or dressed up for a business meeting. No dress code is enforced. People understand you may look chic one day and like you were cleaning the garage the next. The hair on your head can lead a simple life following its natural growth tendencies. If you want African braids, this is a good place to get them. Plastic surgery doesn't appear to be common, whereas my sister-in-law in the fancy suburb knows all sorts of boob-, butt- and face-job customers (she herself isn't one of them, of course).
8. The resources. I have everything worked out here. Where to get copies made. Where to buy books, where to buy music, where to buy clothes, where to browse. Where to take dance classes, from salsa and rueda de casino to modern and ballet. The museums and zoo (the brand new Valley Children's Zoo is spectacular). The wonderful public school my son attends. The super-well-stocked libraries, thanks to constant pleas for more money. We have so much space here for in-fill development too. I hope someone passes a law that says, OK, that's it, no more new construction in our hills. If you want something fancy, tear something else down and build it there.
9. The tolerance. A recent report showed that while hate crimes have climbed in other cities around the country, hate crimes in Oakland have dropped dramatically. And the jewel of tolerance? Our gorgeous Lake Merritt, where people from every part of the world can be seen strolling or jogging or rowing around the nation's first bird sanctuary, next to Children's Fairyland, which inspired Walt Disney to build his Southern California enterprise.
10. The history. As my dad wrote in his great book,
Oakland: Hub of the West, the peaceful Ohlones, towering redwoods and marauding grizzly bears were no match for the 49ers and their guns and lumber mills. Waves of immigration have shaped Oakland continuously, from the Chinese railroad track layers to the African American ship builders to the Latin Americans (with a recent boom of Guatemalan Indians). If you look closely you can imagine the Oakland that once was. Before we bought our house, we made an offer on a house nearby built in 1910. The sisters who were selling it had been born there. They told me that when they were growing up, the hills were bare. Orchards once dotted the Fruitvale neighborhood, but today the names of Spanish landowners persist on our streets. And cows still graze in our hills. I hope this beautiful mix of city and country will still be here for my boys and their children.
