feeling the bern in Fruitvale

Yesterday evening, I rode the subway from my neighborhood to the Fruitvale stop in Oakland. Fruitvale is one of Oakland's poorer neighborhoods, almost 'old school' urban. Oakland is rapidly gentrifying but, so far, Fruitvale is still mostly poor, mostly nonwhite (Latino and African American) and, thus, there are no new trendy restaurants and, so far, Fruitvale is relatively affordable, attracting artists. And small presses that hold poetry readings.

A friend of mine was reading so I went to show him support for his writing.

It was a nice enough reading. I write and am more into hearing stories than poetry although lots of good poetry tells stories. And my friend Paul definitely told great stories in the poems he read. Both of the poets last night read poems about love, sex and sex and love, sorta timely given that tomorrow is Valentine's Day.

The best part of my evening was the BART ride there.

I boarded at the Downtown Berkeley train stop and sat down next to a woman who immediately exclaimed "So this 'Feel the Bern' thing is for real?" she had noticed my Feel the Bern button. She said "A girlfriend is always talking about feeling the burn but I thought she had made it up, I didn't realize it was a thing. Can I take a photo of you wearing that button to show her?" 

Of course I agreed to the photo. She immediately sent it to her friend, the friend immediately responded, gushing gratitude just over a photo of that pin. So I offered the pin to the woman next to me to give to her friend. I have more Feel the Bern buttons. I regularly give them away and they regularly draw attention.

People are feeling the bern, ya know?  I don't think the people can beat the establishment, triangulated by the wealthy, those in thrall to the wealthy, those happy with their powerful political positions who, as insiders, know that the voice of the people does not really matter to our elected non-servants posing as our public servants.

I am very discouraged about the state of the world. Offering to give away that button lightened my spirit.

Then the gal sends her friend another text, just of the button, saying "She gave it to you, here is your Feel the Bern button." Once again, the response was gushing.

And, news for Hillary supporters, the woman next to me was African American and so is her friend. I bluntly asked the gal next to me if she was aware that the Clintons think they own the black vote and if she supported Hillary or Bernie.  She said she does not really follow politics, which was a let down. But her friend that now owns that button clearly supports the Bernmeister and she is also AA.

Feeling the Bern in the East Bay . . . .