Gold Digger

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Davenport, CA is overlooking the Pacific .  You can watch the wales when they pass by from the restaurant dinning room, or just above the cliffs.The Ocean surf is powerful as you go down , and cross the rail road. This  is where Randy , and others friends were digging in the sand this morning, right where the stream coming come above is meeting the sea. Their wetsuits on, a shovel in one hand, a kitchen strainer in the other, they search, scratch, and with scrutiny look for some treasure. What do they find ? Sea glass, washed by time and water currents. That’s their gold rush. On a day of good fortune, Randy found a good handful of them.   They are beautiful,  and unique pieces of art. Once, I won an international  competition. One piece was evaluated to 100 dollars.The American Dream? That ‘s what I am living now. There is no longer a white picket fence American Dream, now. Or a  secure job to make a good living . So what ‘s left is just NOW. Enjoying what I am doing. Nobody can it take from me. That’s my treasure. Sea Glass is my  Golden American Dream for today. And it’s in a beautiful place. What else should I ask for?

In this  part of the country, where Marijuana  grows freely next  to  vegetable gardens. The American Dream seems to work like  at its origins. At the end of the continent, living the life you choose. One wants to  feel free to  embrace his desires regardless of circonstances, white picket-fence or not. In Santa Cruz the campus of the University has a campground  that looks more than  a summer camp  than a study place.  Yet, we are close to Silicon Valley.The idea of being fully  self expressed  seems to have some good seeds here.

I will take you back here , since many things are happening in this part of the Country.

I wanted to  thank you all  for being part of the first part of this journey.

I will resume this adventure this spring. I  wanted to let you know that I have appreciated all  your  encouragements,  comments, and suggestions along this first trial.   Your feedback is important. This spring , we will start our journey from Big Sur , CA at a much slower pace,  allowing us to really go in depth, and meet other American Dreams. I can’t wait to meet you there.

Have a good one!

Rain or Shine

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Coming up to Santa Cruz is getting closer to the clouds. Today , I was struggling with the rain heavily dropping on my lenses. Could not see anything. Even people were  disappearing from  the streets finding  refuge in the cafes. So, there I went. A smiling guy welcomed me.

How are you doing? Good , I said. And  you?

Fantastic. Its raining! It has not been raining for so long.It feels  good!

So I sat there, with people coming in and out of the cafe,  in there rubber boots with there laptops, and cappuccinos.

Climbing up to Bonny Doon , at dark , in the fog, under the rain, the redwoods were discreetly showing up ,  turn after pin turn. Gigantic , and serene  just a few miles from Silicone Valley. That’s what I love about this country: High tech,  and   mighty nature next to each others.

Have a good one!

Quicksand

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Malibu, CA.

Raphaella, 4 years old: I want to be a human being.

Moonwalking in LA

When you cross successively   the deserts of Texas, New-Mexico, Arizona, and California for  five days  in your car ,  you  can wonder  how  the pioneers were able to put one step after another once arrived in LA. I keep asking myself  the same question when I see these shoes in LA where walking  can be challenging .  Try to cross a six lane freeway with these shoes on, or just roaming between  the parking lot , and your  favorite shop? They could have been  conceived  by some car designer  so   you don’t need to touch the earth when you  step out of your vehicule.  You stay at the car-floor level. Well , you car walk. This rainbow of pumps  definitely creates a new way to travel, solving the problem of over crowding , and pollution  in southern California.  Frontal collisions, might happen, but it’s self propelled, and sustainable.

 

Have  a good one!

 

Crossing the Border

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Traveling along the Mexican border between Texas, New-Mexico, and Arizona offers a physical sense of how large the land  is between the two countries . That  is not  even mentioning California.
Being stopped on the road by an immigration officer, I could not help myself thinking of how futile it is when everywhere else there is just nothing but desert.
So much so that when you walk slightly outside the interstate in the desert, you run into personal effects left by people who have illegally crossed  the border for a piece of the American Dream.  Tracks of desperate lives are numerous: a fire pit here, rusted  Coca Cola cans there, and some  pairs of tired boots.
So some people are entering bare feet in the USA territory, with the sweet and sour taste of freedom, and loss.

Tonight , close to the highway was standing a dingy restaurant.   Inside , two clients where playing poker in an large empty room.
For Jon, this place is a little bit like home. After two marriages , and two divorces he leaves alone. Born in Tennessee, his father left when he was a seven years old boy.  I grew up fast. I was the man of the family very early on. I had no childhood. At eleven I discover that I had a good sense of beat and was a good dancer. I became a ballroom instructor at 14 years old. I went to England too.
I really liked that.
Then my life changed. I was in Vietnam three times for a year. Coming back and being spitted at was not easy. I have emotions, you know. Even If I try to not think of it, and bury it, it s there… in my heart. I treasure my life, you know. The American Dream? When was that? That’s BS! It was lost a long time ago. I live for my dreams, not for the American one. I used to write songs. I am good at it. Jon went out to get me an old vinyl that he recorded in 1972. That was his dream then. Now  at 72 ,he remodels houses. I still treasure my life, you know.

Have a good one!

Don’t Mess With Texas

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Don’t Mess with Texas!

Once we say that Texas is big,  one has to keep in mind that everything is larger : Trucks , skies, plates, steaks, men, hats, and hairdos.
We could put some sort of cruise  control on each one of these, since everyone of them seems to never end, just like the desert along the Interstate 10. I love the desert, its emptiness and expensiveness.  Even time seems to be stretching  until  the moment our eyes are meeting a few houses here in Van Horn .
Tonight  I am taking you near the border , North of Del Pasos. A small town comprised of one main street, Van Horn is nested between the highway,  and   the Pacific Railway. The facades are pretty much the ones we can see in  Western towns. One striking thing, is that everything is empty. Abandoned. So coming out of  the desert, you are entering another sterile land, out of time.

The beauty of it is that you can easily cross the large main street, even lie down there, and stare at the sky. While moon gazing, once  in a while, a car, a pick up, or a truck shows up. Slowly.  In a ghostly way. That gives you a special sense of space, no?
Despite this feeling of scarcity, there are numerous motels along the streets.  Some of them of course, are empty.  However,  few of them  are brand new.
Why?   How do they expect to make a living here?
I discover that, according to the Wall Street Journal, Jeff Besos, the founder of Amazon bought 290.000 acres  here in 2006.  The project of Blue Origins should  starts commercial operations in the space as soon as 2012.  Vertical take off: Here. The New Shepard  will carry two or three men to the edge of space for some tourism. Five tests have already been done.

So the Motels are probably getting  ready to welcome some space walker.
This makes  me  even closer to the moon tonight .

Have a good night!

Skydiving

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Ok, Texas is slightly   bigger than France.
Highways are so  straight  that they seem to reach  the sky. It s a little bit like  going for a  moonwalk . The truth is Texas  is bigger than my country also because we drive slower here , therefore  more.  One of the beauty of the American Dream is the cruise control.  The car drive itself  while you are doing whatever you fancy. You can have a nap in the back seat until  your next stop: Johnson.
One quaint main street,  2500  almost invisible people, a few stores still open among some ruins. A former mill ,   a carousel’s skeleton.
Cynthia  moved here from Missouri in 1998. She and her husband opened a store here. They lost everything in 2009. This afternoon she was smoking a cigarette near the abandoned carousel. We tried to keep the place in good shape , but it’s too much work. Everything is collapsing. It used to be different .People were coming here. Kids were playing. Now there is nothing. Nobody. The American Dream? I don’t know. I don’t see any  dream right now. I am concerned about my grandson. He  is 16. He’ s a  strait A student. But what about college? I had my American Dream  before the crisis.  But now, I don’t know…
Leaving Johnson, setting  up the cruise control, riding through the night . Until the next  Motel.
Trucks can park  here, next to their bed stand.
Along the highway, the pool is empty.
Have a good one!

Starting from Stratch.

Freedom and cash

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Today, I am taking you to Huntsville, Texas.
The Texas Department of Criminal Justice is the first employer of the town. In Huntsville, 6700 persons are working for this local industry.
Right outside the Greyhound Station,  is the first place you are dropped  when you get out of prison.
A dozen of buses are leaving  everyday with inmates right  out of jail. With a 50$ check in their pocket, a few personal belongings in  an orange net,  this  is the first place where  they reconnect with freedom, and the outside world.   After a long line, they can exchange their first check for cash in the station.
I met Edwin,  sitting on a metal bench,  waiting for his bus to Dallas.  Seven years in prison, several  books in his bag, he was about to meet his mother. He was born  and raised  45 years ago  in Paris-Texas.  Ed is  very calm,  and soft spoken. With all the other men around he feels a certain sens of community. Yet, they  are all standing alone in silence. There is a certain mood of shyness , and stillness around the Greyhound station. Motions are slow.
Ed wants to learn to speak French. While in jail he took some business classes to be a Private Investor. We both smile at the irony of his dream . Do you believe someone will give you his money ,   right out of prison?  Well, I will start by investing my own money. I have my books here , in my bag. I will keep learning, and practicing.  The past is the past. We are in the land of opportunity. Now I am starting from scratch. I feel new.  That’s what  American Dream is all about . The ability to rise from ashes. Everything is possible if you want it, and if you work  hard at it. The opportunity is what you create. That’s also the idea of freedom.I am a free man now.

Would Edwin been born in Paris-France, rather than Paris-Texas, keep the same hope in the future?  I doubt it.

Across the country, seeing more and more abandoned buildings, empty stores, ghost  factories,  one can wonder  if  the American Dream lies just in this incredible  faith, regardless of  all circonstances of life.  The trust in one’s ability to reach his full potential. Always.

Have a good one!

Grown Ups Dreams

Traveling from Lafayette LA, to Huntsville TX, along the Golf Coastal Plain, means riding  through huge oil refineries, along mighty trucks for long hours. Alternating with the bayous, some exits are more tempting than others. I usually enjoy reading  the gigantic billboards . Here, in the heart of  the Bible Belt  a  good number of them are advertising   Gentlemen Clubs , and other Adult Stores.

Near Lake Saint Charles, I met Jerry in Vinton LA, a town of 3300 quiet people,  and some whistling trains. The Main street is empty. Stores  have been  abandoned for the modern part of the town. Except for one thrift store, one sleepy restaurant , and ..two barbers left behind the Interstate. Jerry Fontenot was   dozing on his puffy chair with some Cajun music playing in his barber shop. As soon as I introduced myself he started to speak French Cajun. After all , this place used to be French. He then  went back home  to get his accordion, and play. That is his  idea of  the American Dream. With good food of course.  At 70  one can tell he loves to play. Besides, he proposes   Cajun Hair Cut for 12 dollars, and mustache trims for 2$.

Have a good one!

Jerry’s DreamVinton’s Peacock”]

Churchs , Oil, and…Stores

Cajun Hair Cut:12$; Moustache trim 2$;

Jerry’s Dream

Vinton’s Peacock

Floatting Dreams

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The American Dream Project  is now going on for a few months along the  the US roads.

Now in Lafayette, LA  after leaving New Orleans in  a feverish party mood  not because of the carnival, but for the football game.

This morning   I met Ken O’ Brien , 56, in Gonzales , on  the parking  lot of  the Best Western .  Veteran, sky diver, as he  was about to leave with his boss for his work day.  He repairs roofs.  Well, actually industrial roofs such as the ones  topping the oil refineries  making the skyline along the  Mississippi here. Kevin is a sky catcher. He goes really high, some engine taking him up to the clouds. He left Pennsylvania some months ago looking for a job here. Since then, he leaves in this  motel, in this room. I make good money here.  There is always work to do. That’s my American Dream. One day, I will  retire in Jamaica.

Then, the road was leading along  lakes and bayous where I found these floating  secret hideouts.

Enjoy!