Hugo

You woke up and said, “What do you think about going to an old Chinese town called Isleton?
It’s out in the delta.”
And I stretched and I smiled and said, “That sounds fun.”

We crossed the George Miller Bridge and I saw so many little islands on your dashboard GPS
River Island, Chipps Island, Winter Island, Ryer Island, Roe Island

Moving along Highway 4 East was such an enchanting sight
Marshlands, tall weeds, cranes, so, Louisiana life

After a while we came upon the Delta Farmer’s Market and we parked
I sat on a bench and watched a man playing and singing with all his heart
While Caroline gathered strawbеrries, cherries, and tangеrines

When she was done shopping, I said, “Let’s listen to this guy finish this beautiful song he’s singing.”
And when he finished, The Youngbloods’ Get Together, he explained that the song was timeless
And that it made so much political sense every 10 years or less

We arrived in Isleton, parked along Main Street, and we walked up and down
And saw a lot of old Chinese signage, most of the stores were closed, it was practically a ghost town
We browsed an antique shop, I asked a woman there about the town’s history
She said it’s an old Chinese town, that pickers used to live there and that it was flooded in the 1970s
And that it went belly-up when the real estate market crashed
And I said, “Well what goes on in this town?”
She said, “Not a lot.”
She said, “There are two places in this town that do well selling pot
And other things that go with pot and whatnot.”

At the end of the road, we saw a family fishing down a dirt path
On the bank of the Delta, two young boys, with their mom and their dad
They each had two poles, and they were using anchovies for bait, with one
While they used lures with the other, it was fun watching the kids cast
Their dad was covered to the hilt in tattoos, his name was Hugo
We talked to him for quite a while, but one of the kids eventually said, “Our dad hates to watch us fish.”

Hugo then explained that they weren’t his kids and that they were his friends’
And his friend had a fishing accident where he took a cast with a lure with two treble hooks, and they got caught in his hand
That he had to have his hand all stitched up and that their dad wouldn’t even come along to hold a net
When I asked about their little poodle, he said, “That’s not mine, that’s their mom’s, and he’s spoiled.”
At one point, one of the kids got snagged and their mother told Hugo
“Jump in there and un-snag it.”
He jumped to it, Hugo was charismatic

We asked him about the delta and what kind of fish were in the river
He said, “Pike, catfish, striped bass, sturgeon, and largemouth bass and striped bass hybrid.”
We talked and talked, and he gave us more history of the town
He said he was born and raised there, he said, “Yeah, we go to the Bay Area every then and now
But I like to come back here where it’s quiet, I live a simple life.”
I could see it in his eyes, his contentment, he was comfortable in his skin and he was zen-like

I asked him, “What’s the main demographic of people here in Isleton?”
He said, “We used to get a lot of traffic from the crawdad and Chinese festival tourism
But they moved out to another area.”
I said, “Well, what kind of people live here?”
He said, “People who like to steal stuff and things like that.”
Hugo was everything but a bore
He said, “The police got discouraged with the town and there’s no police department anymore.”

We told the family how nice it was to meet them and wished them happy fishing
Hugo asked us our names, he said, “You guys should try the Mei Wah Room, they have a lot of beer
Not like this beer that I’m holding, but beer that they make.”
We told him, “Okay.”
Caroline and I went to the Mei Wah room and shared an NA beer
The place used to be an opium den and a brothel
There were all kinds of old Chinese liquor bottles around the room and framed photos of the town from way, way back
We talked to the bartender, he was friendly and he told us to go check out the old towns of Walnut Grove and Locke
Old Chinese towns, he said, “With buildings slanted like this:”
He was holding his hands up in a slightly to the left, vertical position

From there we drove to Locke and Walnut Grove and I fell in love with Locke
It was like an old town out of a western that was once owned and run by Chinese
We went to two antique shops, we saw some cute kittens in one and I bought some Pacific pottery in another
There were all these old dilapidated structures, abandoned offices and stores
I told Caroline, “Imagine moving to a town like this way, way back from another country when it was fully populated because of a job you were offered
Or you were an exchange student or something, and you ended up marrying someone from here when you were young and you never left
And you stayed here throughout your entire life, and it’s the only version of California you ever knew
You lived there and died there, you know what I mean? This town is so surreal and un-California-like
It’s like no place I’ve ever seen.”
She said, “Those words you just said… put them in a song.”

Then we went to Rio Vista and we had a nice Italian dinner at a place called Lucy’s café
On the main street, I had spaghetti and olio, she had chicken piccata and a caprese salad
The street was full of old signage, we took a nice walk to the delta
But we saw a plaque dedicated to Humphrey the Humpback Whale
He made his way up the delta from the Pacific Ocean back in the 80s

We saw people fishing on a pier, so we walked out there
We looked around taking in the scenery
We then drove around the town, and like all charming little towns, I wondered if I’d be able to spend any amount of time there
And make an album, or just hang around fishing
But it became clear to me that it was mostly a boat community
Every person we passed were huddled and talking boat lingo
It was a nice little town, but overall, not for me

We headed back, and when we got home, we turned on the TV
And there was Trump, in Tulsa, speaking to 16,000 people packed into an arena like sardines
I told Caroline, “I don’t get it, why is he allowed to do that when musicians aren’t allowed to play concerts?”
I went to bed feeling frustrated
I finished John Fante’s West of Rome and didn’t fall asleep until the sun came up
I had a dream that I was finishing a tour and counting up envelopes full of cash
For the last six weeks, every time I fall asleep, I dream of being on stage, or racing to a hotel, or to a venue to soundcheck

After the tour part of the dream, the dream changed to me standing in a field across from Peter Frampton
Only Peter was black, not white
There were a group of people in a circle around us who seemed to be entranced by our conversation
He asked me how things were going with music
I felt embarrassed, like, compared to him, how could I enlighten him on anything regarding music?
He’s the guy I learned the DADGAD tuning from, from his song Penny for Your Thoughts
I turned it around and said, “Peter, I’m more interested in hearing about how it’s going with you.”
He started to answer and I interrupted him and said
“Peter, when I was a kid, a copy of Frampton Comes Alive! was in every single home in my neighborhood
Probably in every home in the entire world, for that matter
Some of my favorite memories are of being a kid and listening to those songs
Like Show Me the Way and Lines on My Face, you know?”
And my voice started to quiver, and then we hugged each other
A long strong hug
And I started crying uncontrollably
I continued talking to him, “You know, listening to those songs as a kid way back
Before all the bullshit happened.”
I woke up, my eyes and pillow full of tears
I held Caroline and said, “I just had the most beautiful dream.”