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!

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!

Malibu, CA.

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

Have  a good one!

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!

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!

Click to view slideshow.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!

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!

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!