Moving to a new place is always a little terrifying. Our list of moves over 40 years includes finding homes when I went to work for companies in Chicago, Los Angeles, New York and St. Paul. You can add to that our recent move from Gualala in Mendocino County to Richmond in the East Bay. In travel time, it’s about a 3-hour drive from Gualala to Richmond. And once moved, there is the matter of making all of the usual connections: groceries, health care and a pharmacist, Post Office and more. On a more mundane level, there’s adapting to the larger population, the traffic and the ambient noise.
The biggest, most immediate (and obvious) difference is transitioning from living in a small costal town of a couple of thousand people to living in the middle of a collection of counties, cities and towns—in this case, the San Francisco Bay Area—with a total population of some 3.5 million. That sheer size brings along most of the other differences: freeways, traffic, noise, commercial and military jets, passenger and freight railroads and more. However, I’ve been remembering something I learned while working in large cities like Chicago and New York. Each city has special places to embrace, special neighborhoods to explore, new friends to make and, after the initial culture shock, it all starts to make sense. Those who know me will not be surprised to learn that coffee—as much for the socialization as for the brew itself—was also a question when we moved to Richmond. Coffee is central, but let me explain.
When I began working at A&M Records’ home office in Hollywood in the late 1970s, I was ‘schooled’ in a good cup of coffee. My boss (and later, my friend), VP of Sales Bob Fead, kept only Hawaii’s Kona Coffee brewing in the A&M Sales Department. Granted I wasn’t then (and am not now) an expert in coffee brands and brews, but I was easily able to taste the difference and learn a bit about good coffee. In addition, that was my first work-environment where we talked with co-workers or artists or managers, conversations that inevitably usually began over a cup of fresh-brewed Kona. Fast forward to 2007 when I discovered a local coffee spot in Gualala, and for most of the next 17 years, Trink’s was my go-to-place for coffee, a latte and conversation.
Within a few days of following the moving truck to our new home in Richmond, I knew that I’d have to find a coffee spot. For many, coffee (and caffeine) is about the total experience of a great latte or cup of brew. For those of you who believe that “coffee is coffee”, i.e. there is no difference between coffee here or coffee there, let me be gentle and express some understanding. You’re wrong.
During my first month living in the East Bay I drove around the area hoping to find my, hopefully, new coffee home, and happily I found it: Roma Caffé on Garrard Blvd in Point Richmond. The café is owned by Yoli and is exactly the type of pub I wanted, as it’s friendly, attracts a lot of locals for their first brew of the day, and others for breakfast or lunch. And the latte’s are first rate. Parking is on the street along Garrard Blvd (at the corner of Cutting Blvd). There is some additional on-street and off-street parking nearby requiring a short sidewalk stroll, taking perhaps all of a minute or two.
One morning, while taking the sidewalk stroll to Yoli’s, I noticed that someone had used chalk to add their own poetry (or favorite verse) to five of the sidewalk blocks. Seeing and reading the short verses—one chalked on each of the consecutive concrete blocks—slowed me down on the way to my latte. It was the artist’s script that made me stop, turn and retrace my steps, taking time to read and re-read each of the poetic messages. The five verses were:
Peace Heals Within
Ocean With No Shores
Sky With No Clouds
Spacial Awareness
Joy Whispers Healing
I was struck by the simple charm of the verses, the thoughts that each brought to mind, and the ability of one inspired person to turn a sidewalk into an art project. I also had a desire to find out who brought this beautiful bit of graffiti as a temporary public display. With the recent rains, the poetry has disappeared. I can only hope that the poet/artist will return and create a new pop-up art display, and accomplish what art can do: confront, inspire, compel.
David Steffen
© 2024 David Steffen
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Finding a place to call home, when you’ve moved to a new city or town is a welcome moment. If you cross the San Rafael Bridge and need to make a stop, have a glass of wine, a sandwich or a latte, look for Roma Caffé in Point Richmond, and perhaps you too will discover some sidewalk poetry. And maybe make a new friend. By the way, if you’re a serious biker, as in cyclist, with the required ride, seat, water bottle, cleats and wardrobe, come Saturday or Sunday morning and you’ll be in good company. And say “Hi” to Yoli.
Jazzdavid 
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