Cool Like That!

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Central Ave was the West Harlem of Los Angeles from the 20's-60's. This area spawned hit records like Richard Berry's "Louie Louie", the Olympics "Good Lovin" and the Vibrations "My Girl Sloopy". All of which have been covered by white punk bands and were much more successful upon their subsequent releases. Black folks got dressed in their Sundays best and had a much deserved night out. There was no fighting or dissension, but instead fellowship and coded handshakes. Venues like the Basin Street West on Western and Jefferson which was co-owned by Wilt Chamberlain where you could find the likes of Redd Foxx or No War Toys Coffeehouse on Arlington and Washington, where even the Doors performed early on in their career, were landmarks for black entertainers.

Hollywood flocked to this area to use our musicians for studio gigs that were the envy of the industry because we were cool like that. It was no secret, this was where the flavor lived and thrived, because we were fly like that. Black people owned property, had good jobs and were taking care of their families, because we had it like that. Then the Regan Era gave the greatest gift to black neighborhoods across America, crack... and we became unrecognizable like that.
The Regan trickle effect is still resonating, like little after shocks from the 1994 Northridge. Our theme in America as black people have been devastation and re-invention. Once we get past the governments blueprint for destruction i.e. Katrina and begin to re-build, something else is sure to be brewing. You can't keep destroying what people have worked so hard to build and expect they won't crap where they eat. It’s all trash anyway if you’re reminded daily that you have no real investment or stake in what matters. Your votes will be tampered with and sabotage is as common as the local ice cream truck… you can hear it before you see it coming down your block. Things like the Watts riots, the Rodney King verdict and the riots that ensued, gang violence, liquor stores on every corner and police brutality were all pieces of coal being dumped into an already heated environment. If you go down Central Ave today, it's a war zone of dilapidated buildings and a competition for the last crack head standing. The new soundtrack is police sirens and outbursts from too many voices living inside one person. These are peoples’ mothers, fathers and children who are on these streets. Desperate. Their faces are vacant, robbed of the very moral compass that would keep them from doing the unthinkable for food or a fix.
All we want are for Trader Joes to replace liquor stores and have fruit stands instead of standing trash. Simple changes that just don’t seem to be coming anytime soon. I don’t want to go 10 miles to get something organic, but can go 2 feet to get drugs and pork rinds.
So I ask, can we afford to throw another brick through a storefront or can we afford not to? My neighborhood is full of black and latino homeowners who work hard and have been committed to taking back our community. But the ramifications of the Regan administration and those that followed look more like a sloppy dance of one foot forward, ten steps back.

What my dog Champa used to do was pretty genius. He wouldn't mess up his own yard. He'd go down the street, handle his business and come home and lay on clean grass. And if some other dog tried to make his way to his turf, he would flash. Well, as much as a 14 lb. Lhasa Apso can get away with in a neighborhood of stray dogs, but you get my point. That's what the powers that be have always known. Never make a mess on your own soil. That's why there are no wars in the U.S. and crack never devastated Beverly Hills. Certainly the rich do all kinds of drugs and pretty up their names… but their landscape would never be the dead giveaway. But you can best believe when you cross Pico Blvd and you start seeing trash lined corners and make shift homes out of boxes, you ain’t in Kansas no mo’!

So for now, I'll still pick up behind myself and remain the Cosby kid of my nook known as Hyde Park, along with my other neighbors. I’ll still make the drive with sky high gas in order to grocery shop and stay healthy. I'll blast jazz records from our unsung heroes in my garage on wax and throw in some vintage Ice Cube. But if change don’t come soon to our neighborhoods, I might do like rich folks do. I might have to jump in my truck and drop off a crack head onto their well manicured lawn in Beverly Hills and see if we can get change that way. Who knows... maybe we'll get a Whole Foods on Crenshaw cuz it's overdue like that, da da da.... da da da!