
A well-dressed Native American man with long braided hair and beads in it, wearing a beautiful Stetson hat, carrying a newspaper, walked into a BART train at West Oakland station. He took a good look

Jack Kerouac's pants woke up, found themselves on display in a Market Street store window, tedious cotton khakis selling nostalgia of lost San Francisco and all-you-can-eat haikus Jack Kerouac's