UNFINISHED DOCUMENTARY, KINGDOMS OF THE RADIO | 1995
I met Bravo as soon as I hit ground. We did up the last of what I was holding and I caught a ride with him up to Mrs. Chaves’ property. The Mendo coast was different in those days. A lot slower, if you can imagine. I think there may have been one stoplight on the whole trip.
The bottom had long fallen out of the timber and cattle businesses, and tourists, although around, weren’t everywhere. A couple of freaks in a busted-up VW van could still draw looks when we cruised through town.
Bravo had been working on some of the remaining ranches as kind of a jack-of-all-trades, which suited him quite well. He told me that he had been a high school English teacher in the Bay Area, and couldn’t deal with seeing his former kids coming back from Vietnam in boxes, so he dropped out. He liked the repetition and the anonymity of working the fields. He also was stoked to be in the best shape of his life.
Some of the established farms had started supplementing their income by growing the crazy weed, and my man was quite the expert, having lived up in Humboldt County. I was glad to hear that I would at least be able to find some smoke on the Garcia, as that was one of the factors that originally drove me to move down to the City.
Part of me was glad that the rest of it was going to be hard if not impossible to get my hands on. As I had time to process the incident on Broadway, I could see that I had been getting pretty far out there.
One good thing about being back in the Triangle was the utter lack of giant talking neon signs.
Román Leão 
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