After deciding to reshape my life, the whole world was open to me. So
deciding where to land after leaving Montana was difficult but San Francisco had
a huge advantage. First of all, I had lived there for nearly twenty years
in the past and still knew it well from frequent visits. The other
significant attraction, though, was the Proposition 19 Marijuana legalization
effort that had made it to the 2010 ballot. Helping to finally legalize
this politically maligned plant was irresistible.
In preparation for this new episode of my life, I sold everything owned, with
exception of my car, so moving was relatively inexpensive and
uncomplicated. The primary challenge on the first leg was finding a place
to temporarily land without burdening old friends.
Using Craigslist as a guide, I found a situation on International Boulevard, the
former East 14th Street, in Oakland that billed itself as a sort of downscale
adult summer camp. Photos in the ad made it clear that accommodations were
spare with various bunk bed hostel style arrangements throughout the rooms of a
decaying Victorian mansion.
The price was right and the owner, named "Richard", assured me in a phone call
that every guest was screened for security and had signed an agreement to abide
by stringent rules of cleanliness and respect. I was expected to do the
same. He emailed me a voluminous legal document with detailed house rules
around noise, keys, bathroom and kitchen use. There were specific
instructions about the type and amount of money order required as a deposit and
even the way in which FedEx was to deliver the deposit and signed documents to
him. His email concluded with a digital signature followed by the word,
"Esquire".
After a two day drive with frequent stops to check the straps on my overloaded
roof rack, I was relieved to be near Sacramento where I called Rich in
preparation for my arrival. Someone named Alex answered the phone and told me
Rich was out of town but everything had been arranged, no problem.
It had been many years since I last saw International Boulevard in Oakland.
I'd lived on it in the 1970's when it was East 14th Street and even then
it had a reputation for prostitution, guns and sad addiction. But the reality of
2010 International Boulevard made my memory of 1970's East 14th Street seem
wholesome by comparison.
