Street Spirit Vendor

I had kept it in my pocket for the last few weeks, a wrinkled five dollar bill that had a bit of tape on it from where it had ripped. I have seen him before, actually bought a paper from him for $1 the other day. He is usually dressed in all black, or some faded variation there-of. His collared shirt buttoned all the way up, looking like it is a little too small in the neck; His black hat tilted a little too the side. I would say he is about 45 if I had to guess. He is usually standing outside of Peet's Coffee with a smile, chatting with people as they walk by and selling the Street Spirit paper. Like the Streetwise paper in Chicago that I grew up listening to street vendors try and sell with a variety of tactics, the Street Spirit paper is meant to be an alternative to panhandling. I have found myself curious in the last few weeks about the panhandlers and street spirit vendors that I see everyday as I walk around my neighborhood. I give when I can and always acknowledge them. Today I stopped and chatted with this guy for a few moments. I found out that he makes about $10 a day on average but they charge him $3 a night at the shelter. He said he uses most of the rest of the money for food and I believe him. But he said it's always a struggle, everyday out there trying to see the paper. I handed him the crumpled up $5 bill and thanked him for taking the time to talk with me. He said thank you and I walked on my way. Now there are a mixture of feelings from this single serving encounter (though I have seen him before this is the first time I talked to him) and I am still sorting through them...

Not so single serving but still a good story

So my friend Ziad called yesterday and he had an extra ticket to some charity event that his organization had bought and he wondered if I wanted to go. I had no idea really what I was going to. When I walked in and sat down I found out that it was the 10th year anniversary of an organization Just Cause Oakland that works for affordable housing here in Oakland. I sat and thought how interesting, with my family history, that I was at this presentation. Back in the 60s, 70s, 80s and 90s my father worked on affordable housing in Chicago, organizing, protesting, etc. I kept looking around, occasionally seeing someone who looked familiar. And then I caught sight of someone who was about to walk onto the stage to give a speech. It was there surprise special guest. Turned out it was Jesse Jackson who happened to be my dad's student at the University of Chicago Divinity School and who my dad worked with at Operation PUSH for over a decade (I grew up running the halls). The last time I saw Jesse was 13 years ago when he showed up at our house after my dad passed away. After he spoke I immediately weaved my way through the tables to the side of the stage and caught him as he was coming off the stage. He barely looked at me and the other person who was there to shake his hand as he was moving towards the exit so as I shook his hand I reached in and said, "Al Pitcher's son." He immediately stopped, his eyes lit up and he pulled me in for a huge hug. He then grabbed my hand and led me into the back for a few seconds of chatting before he had to run...While it's not a single serving encounter, it's still like that...13 years later...

Janitor at a Middle School in Oakland, CA

I guess I just wanted to acknowledge the work that she was doing, cleaning the rooms where so many students spend time without thinking about who picks up after them. I ended up chatting with her twice as I was moving in between the two rooms that she cleaned in order. I couldn't tell whether she enjoyed my chatter or was not used to someone talking to her while she was working. Sometimes they are certain people who just seem to go unnoticed and sometimes I think it is nice to say hi and let them know that their work is appreciated.

Waiter at Pelican Brewery - Pacific City, OR

His name was Aaron. We figured that out because the hostess kept saying it as she seated other customers around us. We had driven for hours and hours down the WA and OR coasts on the beautiful highway 101. After checking in to a hotel we found out way to the Pelican Pub and Brewery, nestled right on the beach with a breathtaking view of an enormous rock, like the tip of an iceberg, poking out of the ocean as the pinks, yellows and reds of the sunset curled over the water. Aaron was a bundle of energy. He talked to us about our beer selections, the IPA is quite hoppy. He talked to us about the card game we were playing, he talked to us about his favorite band that came out of Oakland, he drew us a map to help us get back to I-5 on our way home. Each of these conversations was 2 minutes as he ran in and out and around the restaurant serving food, getting drinks, etc. They were all truly single serving encounters.

Crossing Guard

I stepped up to the corner of McArthur and Grand and I was met by a giant smile from a man holding an octagonal red sign on a stick in his hand. The crossing guard greeted everyone as they passed, stepping out a few feet into the intersection to assist the students (or anyone else for that matter) to pass safely in front of the cars. We had two minutes before the light changed and so I struck up a conversation. He loves his job, he hadn't worked since June and he knows a ton of the parents. He said, "It's great when you enjoy what you do." I nodded in agreement as the light changed and I stepped into the crosswalk on my way to the bus stop.