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It was a bad business day on Telegraph Avenue, July 4, for most of the hungry businesses that were open and as one native Berkeleyan explained it "historically, Berkeley is a town we leave on the Fourth." 

Telegraph avenue had that you-loved-me, but you-left-me-look as shoppers either left town (like this reporter), or checked out the Berkeley Marina crafts fair. 

This off-the-beat South side reporter shot through the Alameda tube for the "Island City's” award-winning, all-American, July 4th extravaganza-parade (There were 175 "floats"). As I shot through the Alameda tube, bound for the Island City, I didn't realize I was entering the "Twilight Zone." 

The parade was so-not-Berkeley and then again it was. Some of the "floats" promoted political causes and candidates. Other "floats" were right out of the wild west--prancing horses and six-shooting cowboys and caballeros. The guns sounded real, but were realistic stage props that would have landed the perps in the hoosegow in Berkeley where our police eschew the gun--even when the gun is a rumor or false report. 

I schmoozed some of the 3,000 plus attendees, meeting, among others, three cowpokes from Montana, an Alameda County Sherriff’s deputy, the event communications volunteer, a family with mouthfuls of Pizza. 

As the Unitarian-Universalist open-bus drifted by on a cloud (they were singing Pete Seeger), I asked, "Is God present?" The answer was "yes." Now I've seen a Unitarian who believes in God. (Berkeleyans would have asked, "Whose God?). 

The military deployed an array of antique weaponry that would have started a riot in our military averse Berkeley culture (the fumes from the old engines stank up the parade route); the parade passed a large Coast Guard recruiting station, and the U.S.S. Hornet, a legendary WW2-carrier swayed-by. Disabled vets saluted the crowds as they passed in review. 

The delighted, often-cheering crowd was hardly diverse, but I did meet an African-American PhD., who works in Berkeley. I indelicately asked whether she felt "marginalized;" (she was one of no more than ten African Americans in the crowd of mostly Whites and a handful of Asians). She said that as an African-American raised in Andover, Massachusetts, she had long gotten over feeling marginal. "I don't even notice anymore," she said. 

Back in Berkeley, I stopped off at Smokey J's in what I am now calling SOAS (south of Ashby on Shattuck), pronounced So Ass!-which is defined at Urban on-line Dictionary as far f-in out--to pig out on some poor pig's fat-ass shoulder (pulled-pork sandwich). 

The fourth of July is a time of disgust here in Berkeley where the whole sorry affair is disdained. We like the evening fireworks at the Marina but rarely can see it through the fog. (It came through bright and clear Monday night). An anti-fourth party was promoted outside the Med and the usual suspects ("Tree People") burned 13 U.S. flags on Tetley. 

"Why did "Tree People" torch 13 U.S. flags (did it symbolize the 13 original colonies)? 

"Nope," it was not a symbol of 13 colonies said "Tree People"; "we only had 13 flags." 

A nearby resident of the Marina heard fireworks all night of the 3rd as fireworks workers practiced firing. Big bucks went up in smoke, and pollutants flew according to the Marina-area resident. 

By the time this piggy hit the aver, (around 3p), the July 4th void was palpable. The day before had been so-ass, but the mood for the 4th was more sad-ass. Still there were some winners among the losers. The henna temporary tatto stand did well with students attending a student United Nations conference at the university. 

The United Nations students wandered down to Studio 6, the successor to Sather Gate Jewelers and made that business's day. Fred's market-Deli and Sam's had typical revenues, probably, according to Sam's, because most of the Teley restaurants were closed. The Med--as always--survived. But Volcom's business was way down. Moe's sales were down. The crochet-hat-guys outside Amoeba took a hit. 

While getting a lesson in martial arts from a young man who said he was a Black Panther, I got a real lesson in diversity. A "difference of opinion" arose when the Panther guy said that he had a permit to carry, as if, he said, he even needed one. The right to carry a gun was his constitutional right, he said, and he would not hesitate to bring his gun to Berkeley. 

He didn't like my telling him that whipping out even a B.B. gun here could put him on the fast track to Santa Rita jail. He refused further talk; when I refused to give him my e-mail address; still, we parted friends, I hope. 

Ted Friedman may stray from his South side beat but always returns to the always- exhilarating South side. You can follow him at twitter.com/berkboy.