Comment / By good rockin’ Derral / Aug. 8, 2008, 6:31 p.m.

I remember Arcata in the 60’s and early 70’s; I remember a good-sized contingent of people marching from HSU to the Plaza in protest of the Kent State murders. I remember when the Co-Op started, and the feeling that we had arrived, that progressive thinking and acting were going to guide us, and thence the world, that the dark forces of war and oppression could be surmounted and that the community that was Arcata was cohesive and inclusive.

Boy howdy, did I have another think coming! I embarked on my life and went about earning a living in the Mt.Shasta area. I always had a mental picture of the sunny Plaza, and in the back of my mind I wanted a job on the Plaza. That would be a fine thing, with all the fun people and shops and music going on.

The decades passed, and I ended my logging career in the mid-80’s on the Coast, re-entering HSU in 1986. This time I would graduate, and while I was in school I took a job on the Plaza. I remember the day someone rushed in saying we should call 911 NOW; a guy had just stabbed two people on the plaza. While the boss called 911, I went to the door, and locked eyes with the perp, who was standing across the street with a foot-long knife in his hand, dripping blood. I wondered if I could hold the door shut if he came after me, if we could lock it in time. That began the end of my fantasy for Arcata, and I began to see the level of intense low life populating McKinley’s memorial. And it’s so much worse now. Blame? I guess if you need to blame, you can find places to point the finger. I don’t really care whose “fault” the pejoration may be, I just stay away. I brought an elderly relative to Arcata for dinner a few years ago, and we got spare-changed three times walking from where we parked to where we ate. I wasn’t affronted by the bumming a dime aspect, but the manner was aggressive and arrogant, and I’d rather not get worked up.

Eureka, in a Renaissance of sorts, is still the blue collar alternative to its Bay neighbor. But I prefer my old hometown to Arcata because it’s just more real. The “kids” in Arcata seem to be imitating the hippie culture of 40 years ago, and most times I have engaged in dialogue I walk away wondering, “Did they just put on the dreads and the airhead attitude like a shirt?” Because it’s not natural and looks affected, a costume of styles, behaviors and attitudes derived from a perspective far-removed from the cultural explosion of so many years ago. Of course these musings are general, and I’m always ready for the happy exception - real people with real feelings and attitudes, not some subsumed persona that seems elitist and selfish.

And with all that said, I still miss the Coast and would love to be back. I miss the Peace/Love talk, even if it’s just talk. It’s good talk.