OF WALKING AND TROTTING (TURKEY REFERENCE)

I was walking in El Cerrito, which you may or may not know, is a very “suburban” suburb in the East Bay, across the water from San Francisco, a couple of BART stops north of Berkeley.  I know we’re all supposed to hate the suburbs but I never do.  I find them endlessly fascinating in subtle, sometimes minimalist, ways.  Here you can define yourself as a maverick by what you grow in your front garden 

or what kind of door you have on your garage.

El Cerrito was founded in 1906 by people who’d fled San Francisco because of the earthquake, though the majority of the homes I saw look as though they were built in the 1940s or 50s, modest but not poor, the architecture not all that exciting, but the houses are well kept and with the occasional bit of eccentricity here and there.

My destination, to the limited extent that I had one, was Downhome Music (“serving you with roots music since 1976”) – 


but it wasn’t open yet when I got there, so I had a not especially ambitious walk around the neighbourhood, and I came cross this paving stone:

I don't know if you can read it very well, but it says that Credence Clearwater Revival came from El Cerrito which was a surprise to me.  I'd always assumed without giving it any thought, or caring about it much, that Credence were southern boys, but what did I know?   The Fogerty boys did indeed grow up in El Cerrito, though they were born in Berkeley.

Still, the biggest name in El Cerrito music is Metallica.  They lived there between 1983 and 1986 in a house at 3132, Carlson Boulevard, known as the Metallica Mansion, and it was there, mostly in the garage, that they composed the two albums Ride the Lightning and Master of Puppets.  The garage has been demolished but in 2016 the city proclaimed the band as a “cultural institution,” and they had a ceremony down at the house. 


In fact, without knowing it, I did come within a couple of blocks of the house, and if I had known, I’d definitely have gone and had a look at it, though I imagine the current inhabitants get a bit fed up with that kind of thing.

The suburbs of course, especially on a weekday are remarkably free from other people, even other walkers, which means you can have a good nose around, and take some photographs, and nobody bothers you, or even notices you.

You know, the streets of El Cerrito were empty enough that even wild turkeys could stroll around without being bothered.  I rather like that in a suburb.