Have been thinking a lot about values and character and what happened to them. Where did our values of equality, compassion, responsibility, empathy, tolerance, humility, respect, dignity, and telling the truth go? Are cheating, lying, molesting, racism, greed, cruelty, hypocrisy, hatred, and braggadocio our new American values? I hope not. Back in the day, Ed Sullivan, the host of the most popular variety television show of all time, understood something about this.
I happened onto a documentary on Netflix called “Sunday Best” and was hooked. Always thought that Ed was sort of a nebbish, a bit stiff and good at what he did, but certainly not a hero. Well — I was wrong. He did more than just about anybody to get African Americans on television in the days before the civil rights movement when segregation was legal. He was told by higher ups that Southern viewers would never support the likes of a Louis Armstrong, Nat King Cole, Harry Belafonte, James Brown, or Ella Fitzgerald in their living rooms. He saw it differently. If you could appeal to people individually through their values, in this case appreciation of talent, political considerations would take a back seat every time.
He was right. Ed had grown up in Harlem and remembered the discrimination agains the Irish. And he didn’t hold back when he started hosting a variety TV show in 1948, now called the Ed Sullivan Theater which is the home of Late Night with Stephen Colbert.
“We’ve been called upon to search our hearts and souls of hatred, cleanse them of a natural hate and fear for our neighbors. Bigotry and intolerance, racial or religious hate and discrimination are spiritual acts of treason,” he said on the show. He also called upon Americans to “join in this great crusade for our brotherhood, for a united America is the sole remaining hope for our shattered world.” http://www.netflix.com Back in Benicia summer is racing by.
I wait all year to go to the Benicia Peddler’s Fair which I’ve been frequenting for over fifty years. At that time it was all about the antiques. The peddlers are a potpourri of small business folks — artists, craftspeople, gardeners, metal workers, designers, jewelers, basket makers, and purveyors.
“Get there early or all of the good stuff will be gone,” was drilled into me at an early age. “Dress like you’re poor and never say you like something, as they might raise the price.” I know none of this is true but the thrill of the hunt always gets my heart pounding.
Hurried down to my favorite lady who sells Indian kanthas — hand stitched quilts made of old saris — but didn’t find the color I wanted. Sorting through a vintage clothing rack at another booth, I pulled out a 198o’s era ski jacket with a squash blossom necklace embroidered on the front so it looks as if you are wearing a real silver and turquoise Navajo necklace. “This is fabulous,” I said to the peddler as I tried it on, breaking the old “stifle yourself” rule.
That’s the thing about the Peddler’s Faire. You don’t think you need anything until you see something you like. Always visit the Tibetan woman who sells gorgeously embroidered cushions, wall hangings, door drapes, and silver jewelry. Ended up with a stunning beaded gold embroidered and sequined cushion cover for only $15. Finished up the entire market plus the yard sales on J and K by noon before it got too hot. By the looks of the crowd, it was a smash.
In preparation for the Peddler’s Fair, visited the Alameda Point Flea Market last week— the granddaddy of all Left Coast fleas. Got up at the crack of dawn, followed GPS through two long, narrow tunnels to arrive at the largest parking lot I’d ever seen. For the next six hours we explored each aisle. By the time we left, exhausted and wobbly, we couldn’t find my car. We needed water and I visualized crawling through the lot looking for an oasis. Thank goodness for the clicker. Ended up not buying anything. Did I need the enormous green glazed ceramic pig for $750 that I admired? What about that gorgeous Fred Harvey turquoise ring for $250, or the stunning vintage Mexican silver repousse belt buckle for $800. Nunca!
Was told by my sister Janie that I needed a new iPhone. Mine was an oldie — an 8 — which won’t take apps or my fingerprints. The Apple Store on Fourth Street in Berkeley was a bee hive of activity, support staff outfitted in their navy blue polo shirts buzzing around the floor. Fascinating, all of these older people, probably younger than I, hunched over their phones, elbows on the table, taking notes and watching a big screen as an instructor lectured on the fine points of their new technology. The difference in clientele was stark. Older folks walked in looking downtrodden, slightly hunched over, and wary. The younger crowd, including little kids, were totally consumed by their devices.
“You could tell me anything you want about my new phone and I would have to believe you,” I teased my associate. “We are helpless without you young folks. Seniors are sitting ducks,” I said. “I’m an older guy,” my associate said. “I’m 23.” “It seems like we’re always needing to upgrade something. Is the culture of Apple greed?” I asked. “No,” he said. “Of course we want to make money, but our culture is to help people.” “Why can’t you use the same connectors for all the devices,” I said. He explained that that was an issue with Great Britain’s standards or some such. He said that the technology is changing so rapidly that Apple is in a constant state of falling behind. “I know the feeling,” I said as he stuck my new iPhone 16 into a small white paper bag.
Apple’s mission statement is “to bring the best user experience to its customers through its innovative hardware, software, and services.” I was relieved that it wasn’t something like “Don’t Be Evil,” which seems like a very low bar. Talk about values. My new phone is able to make someone in a photo who may have inadvertently walked into the frame disappear like magic. Whoosh! Not something that I’ve been clamoring for but I’ve got it if I need it.
Letters From Benicia 