The show was outstanding, and, as you do, I wished my friends who’d never seen MarchFourth could be there to experience it. They were preceded by a local band appropriately named City of Trees whose funk and soul spirit reminded me of the second line bands we’ve seen in New Orleans. It was so much fun I wanted to play my horn again. Again.
Prior to all this we met friends in the sidewalk seating area to talk above the traffic noise and somehow the subject came round to mothers. Not mine, so much, though it’s cool that at her age she’s flying home today from New Orleans, but another friend’s, whose mother is evidently a fierce woman who works in rescuing the victims of sex slave trafficking. In this brief conversation I learned:
- Sacramento is the national hub for the practice because of its position on the freeway network. Most slaves enter via Los Angeles and are quickly shipped out to Sac for transshipment across the country.
- The tony suburb of Granite Bay is a hub within the hub, I surmise because it is quiet and rich and has large properties. I was told there are houses with basements of forty rooms to house the victims. (Of course, there might be just one, but that’s one too many. It makes sense, since the houses out there are huge and the properties many acres in size.)
This contrast between being able to relax and have a ton of fun while other people are imprisoned and enslaved has been with humanity so long most of us have no difficulty putting the latter out of mind. It’s too overwhelming: what do we do? At the very least, don’t patronize the businesses that may contribute (e.g. massage parlors that sell sex). That’s an easy one to avoid, needless to say. What else? Be aware, perhaps. Understand that someone on the street who’s lost and scared may have very good reason for it. I don’t know.