Food for Thought

Move over, Safeway---

Farmers' Market's come to town!

Real Food soothes, sings, soars.

　

Copyright by Cathy Dana, 2010

　

　

The spring compresses,

Storing it's release until

Commanded to fire.

Rising against the will & law

Of gravity, the first

Player enter the arena.

Under a barrage of thumpers,

Knocking down a row of

Cheap soldiers, the player

Careens off a diversion,

Through cacophony of

Bells & bars, descends

Into the night. – M.S.

"Pinball is Rock and Roll"

　

Lights flashing

Buzzers buzzing

Bumpers bumping

Fast then slow

Arcing

Rebound

Defying

Physics and gravity

Yet intrinsically

Subject to the

Universal laws of life

The more you get

The easier it is to get more

Yet still the

Element of randomosity

Is the shiva of the game.

　

Bow Wow

Doggie Diner's pointed snout

Pointing out from off the corner

Compete in quality, very nice

Vanquished by the cheapy price

Leaving quality mourners..

– Webster Street

copyright 2010 Kenneth Peterson

　

The Elders Inn, Our Saving Grace

When he turned sixty,

Trying not to let his wicked smile show,

My dad gleefully announced his new life goal:

"I want to be a curmudgeon when I grow up," he said.

But he failed.

His curmudgeonly skills never fully matured;

Everyone at the Elders Inn loved him:

The residents, the aides, the nurse, the administrator.

Everyone.

At eighty, before his big heart attack,

My dad lived in Southern Cal, alone, independent---

"My carefree, happy bachelor days," he said,

Trying not to let his wicked smile show.

After the hospital stabilized his heart and discharged him,

We drove him four hundred miles north, to Alameda.

He didn't think he'd live long. We didn't either,

So Hospice came to the rescue, but everyone's jaw

dropped

When he became a Hospice graduate. Everyone's jaw.

So we had to find a new home for him.

He refused to be a burden;

"Do not take me into your home," he insisted,

And I knew he meant it.

So we began to look, and our spirits sagged

As did our backs, hefting his wheelchair

In and out the trunk of our car,

Checking out potential new homes,

Time after time shaking our heads "no."

Finally, finally, finally we found the perfect place,

The Elders Inn, our saving grace.

Copyright by Cathy Dana, 2010

My Dad Had a Wicked Sense of Humor

Everyone at the Elders Inn knew that my dad, Lang Dana,

Had a wicked sense of humor.

The young Philippine aide knew, as she administered his

meds.

"Mr. Dana!" she said, giggling away.

The residents knew he had a wicked sense of humor.

Bertha, ninety-one, beamed as she told

Her favorite story over and over.

"Lang's arms were all bruised," she explained,

"So I asked him, 'Lang, what happened?'

And he looked me right in the eye

And said, 'Well, I fell down.

Then I looked in the mirror

And I wasn't satisfied,

So I fell down again.'"

Bertha shook her head in disbelief,

"That Mr. Dana!" she said, giggling away.

His family knew he had a wicked sense of humor.

When I came to visit,

He showed me his hurt shoulder.

"The comforter on my bed has it in for me,"

He confided, leaning forward conspiratorily.

"Last night while I was fast asleep

My comforter grabbed me by the foot,

Yanked me out of bed,

And threw me down on the floor.

My comforter has it in for me."

"Oh Dad!" I said, giggling away.

Everyone at the Elders Inn knew my dad had

a wicked sense of humor.

Copyright by Cathy Dana, 2010

Fortune Cookies, Friends, and Favorites

Chamomile lemon tea is my choice,

With honey, of course.

I sit, I sip,

Pausing in an otherwise

Furiously busy day. Again.

Here in WesCafe

I find refuge from the world's demands,

From my own demands of myself.

In these times of corporations,

Big business, and chains

It is refreshing, heart-warming

To find this homey, home-grown cafe

Created by Monica and Miguel

Out of passion and dreams and elbow grease.

Love, warmth, and wisdom pour out from the cafe wall

Where hand-painted words proclaim truths---

"A calm sea never made a skilled mariner"

Catches my eye and gets my head bobbing up and down.

Miguel tells me Monica and their daughter

Hand-painted the sayings, which cover the entire wall.

I ask Monica, who I am meeting for the first time,

"Where did you get those sayings on the wall?"

She laughs. "From fortune cookies, friends, and

favorites," she says.

"Oh! You just gave me the title of my poem!" I say.

Copyright by Cathy Dana, 2010

GOING NOTICED

I go noticed on Webster Street by a great many people;

Precisely, my dog and I go noticed there-

To be even more precise, the harness on her back

Causes the three of us to get paid attention to.

Their presence means the absence of some eyesight on my part.

It also means the presence of many acts of kindness.

Like my accoutrements and me,

They all go noticed.

A voice emerges from a waiting car

Informing me of my ability to cross the street at Santa Clara

.

Other, more visible good Samaritans

Hold open doors or give warning

When construction cones are sprouting from the

broken sidewalk next to the veterinary clinic.

Even the neighborhood drunk is solicitous.

He appears periodically

To ask me if I am all right,

And, once, even to supervise my safety

While I was curbing the dog just beyond the local pub.

The only payment he extracts from me

Is my acknowledgement of him.

"Don't say 'Hi, R---!'" He shouts from the pavement

Beside the now-closed restaurant on the corner,

On a dun-colored morning

Or a harried afternoon.

Naturally I respond as he wishes, with "Hey, R---!" –

His kingly name a demand for attention in and of itself.

I once even heard him tell a companion at the curb in front of my

house

(after the customary transaction was completed)

That he wished that he could give me his eyes.

He, who was often unseen

Was more than willing to go unseeing

For my sake.

I ponder the meaning of invisibility

And blindness

As my dog and I cross Central Avenue and sojourn up Webster

Street,

Past the bar, and the post office, and all the rest of the stores,

Some of which I know, some of which I don't,

And arrive at the bus stop, still pondering.

I was ruminating so hard that I almost missed the bus,

But the driver wouldn't let me because she had noticed me.

I am humbled by R---;

All he wants is to go noticed by me,

And has no fear of helping out with the task.

He, who may or may not be Elijah, or Jesus,

Or some fallen angel,

But is far more than what he appears to be

On the sidewalks around Webster Street.

Copyright by Alysa Chadow

　

Silver ball shiny, roundy.

Come near my flip, I smack you soundly.

Bounce off the rubber,

then hit the post.

Give me points

So I can boast. – M.S.

CROLL'S

The Croll Building, on the corner of Webster St. and Central

Ave.,

was the site of Croll's Gardens and Hotel.

Today a beautifully preserved building.

Allowing my mind to drift back through time:

Famous for training great fighters of boxing history.

Sailing ships from Alaska bringing fish to be canned.

The Transcontinental railroad ending,

passed Croll's on it's way to the Mole and Ferry to San

Francisco.

Alameda became an island, Bay Farm Island became a

peninsula

Local steam commuter lines of the Southern Pacific,

later transformed into the East Bay Electric Lines.

Not streetcars, but full-sized railroad cars which connected

to the mainland by bridges at Webster Street and Fruitvale.

Across the street from Croll's - - - Neptune Beach

Unique American snow cone and the popsicle first sold here.

The Kewpie doll, the original prize for winning games at the

beach

Two Olympic-size swimming pools and an exceptional roller

coaster,

hand-carved carousel, the Ferris wheel, roller coaster and

other rides.

The Cottage Baths were available for rent.

Webster Street home of Skippy Peanut Butter.

Jack London known to take part in oyster pirating.

Pan American Airways established a seaplane port,

the original home base for the famous China Clipper.

The world's first-ever containerized shipping crane was used.

Alameda is a "Coast Guard City."

Alameda's industrial and ship building industries thrived.

The advent of World War II, the Naval Air Station was

established.

Now home of the Hornet.

　

Copyright by: Peter E. Sandholdt

　

FARMERS' MARKET

　

On Tuesdays Webster Street becomes alive.

Parking at a premium, people hustling everywhere.

The Farmers' Market is open.

Entering the market you are met with a gorgeous array of

flowers

Both potted and cut.

Then a large variety of fruit and vegetable stands.

To the left of the vendors are tables set up with people

giving you

great information.

One table is manned by a couple of Master Gardeners,

that will answer any and all your questions about

gardening.

Beside the marvelous selection of fruits and vegetables

are vendors,

selling a great assortment,

chickens cooking on a rotisserie,

others selling Mexican food, Italian food,

pastry from around the world,

all freshly made and cooked locally.

One warning - - - do not go shopping hungry.

Between the fragrance of the flowers,

the aroma of the fresh fruit and veggies,

mixed with the odor of the tantalizing food.

Your nose is treated.

Your saliva flows.

The desire to taste everything.

Like a feast set before a king.

Copyright by: Peter E. Sandholdt

My treat at Yokohama Japanese Restaurant

The Yokohama Restaurant is so close to home

While living at the West End

It so convenient to enjoy

My favorite "sukiyaki"

Just say "sukiyaki to go"

No fuss, No dishes to wash,

Just be pampered

And be treated

By these family-styled

Restaurant Owners.

Copyright by Amy B. Estrada

Nations Coffee Shop

Fonda, A.M.

Ingmire, Wanda

Rudge, Mary

Serrano, Nina PEANUT