Me with D Black part 2

D called me this morning about 9:45, so 6:45 his time. There was no build up of excuse mes, or were you sleepings or anything like that. Just D on the other end with something to say. Softly. Kindly. Thoughtfully.

D* You asked me the other day what comes to mind when I let my mind go blank. You asked me what comes up first and I did that this morning and I know what comes up first for me.

J* What's that? And can I take notes on this and include it in the blog?

D* Sure.

J* Ok. What's up?

D* You know I was born in '59. So I'm right at the beginning of the '60s. That's what comes up. The '60s in L.A.

I remember my brother and I used to eat the free breakfast at The Black Panther Center. We met the Black Panthers. Stokley Charmichael rubbed my head once. As I grew up I grew to understand my connection to him as a writer.

I remember that the whole neighborhood smelled like a bakery. I was born and raised on 48th and Grammercy. If you go down Normandie and go down Slauson, a lot of those buildings were bread places.

---My mind went back to when I lived in the Artist District downtown L.A. We lived in a loft that had been converted from a bakery.

D* I remember my dad had a tab with the Helms place. A lot of people did. Folks got paid on Fridays and paid it up then. But we always had bread.

I remember the red car.

J* My mom used to talk about the red car. You remember that?

D* Yeah. One of the stations was right on 48th.

I remember my uncles were bookies and they would give me toilet paper with numbers on them. They used to put money in the juke boxes and I would dance and they would give me money.

But bread. Mostly I remember the smell of bread. Now L.A. stinks. There are no more bread places. But back then everybodys grandmother was at home and they was up cookin' breakfast. Not no more. L.A. stink now. It smells like murder.

We went on to talk about old times, poets, L.A. We took time, on this rainy morning, to remember friendship.