The Boardwalk of Santa Cruz”Keifer Sutherland blockbuster Lost Boys filmed on this spot,” proclaimedthe self-important plaque. It was mounted on a wall along a long flight oflog stairs. As I looked back, miles of beach stretched out before me and,across the bay, I could see red, blue, orange lights whirling high above thecrowds upon a huge wheel. We made our way back to where the steps met back upwith the sidewalk alongside the highway. We were hit by the smell of thecity, of the freeways, re-invading our senses. I took one final look backand studied once more the long progression of wooden planks stretching offinto the distance. It had been like no place I’d ever experienced. TheBoardwalk. Santa Cruz.
It was the summer of 2000 and I had moved in with my sister Jana in SantaCruz, California for the summer. I had taken a 32-hour bus ride to getthere and was completely exhausted from it, but Jana wanted to show off hercity, so the next day she gave me a tour. She had an apartment right on thebeach, and we could go swimming anytime. We went downtown and I took inthis unfamiliar environment. The people were so much more diverse than Iwas used to. Growing up in a town of 280 people in western Colorado doesnot exactly allow one to experience many types of people. In one glimpsedown a street in Santa Cruz, I could see a sampling of the world. People ofall colors and creeds wearing turbans, sarongs, and other exotic clothesmixed right in with the type of people I had grown up with. Californiadoes not have mental institutions, so most mental patients end up homelessin the streets–another wrinkle to the cloak of humanity of this particularstreet. I witnessed one man…
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…s and blocks of shops, restaurants,bowling alleys, bars and emergency medical stations for those who neededassistance, such as having their stomachs pumped, after a night on theBoardwalk. The people milling about were just as varied as those downtown,if decidedly younger. The beach was filled with rides and volleyball netsall along the coast. We started out in a bowling alley and progressed on tonumerous other establishments, including a Falafel place where none of theemployees spoke anything but Farsi. As the night wore on and the barsbecame less and less selective, the night became hazier and hazier. One ofthe memories that remained in my addled brain the next morning was ridingthe Ferris wheel high above the crowds and feeling the wondrous ocean breezecoming in. It was one of the most fun nights I had while I was inCalifornia.
