The walls come down around Hobo Alley

ILLUSTRATION by LUKE MCGARRY

For an irregular set of summer Saturdays, Acres of Books stalwart Steve Becker and an untameable gang of supporters—some of whom are cracking wise so enthusiastically behind this interview that he has to move to a more sedate location—have curated the happily informal Hobo Alley events in the actual Hobo Alley, which until someone started swinging sledgehammers was the forlorn little strip of bad pavement and weeds running north-south down the middle of the Acres block. These were gloriously local little events—Acres’ charm amplified under sunlight for a crowd that sometimes worked up as much of a performance as the musicians, and for musicians (including members of bands like Paper Planes and Suburban Lawns) who found a flattering front-porch feeling that let them discover all sorts of unexpected glories. Plus the hobo walk-ons—like the guy who said he was a famous session percussionist and played like one, too, or the guy who said he was a shaman and blessed the alley tip to terminus—and the free hot dogs and refreshments from kindly Steve, who couldn’t pay but who could at least (he says) play Jewish mother to everyone who came around the corner. And now as Acres tightens itself against the first bite from the bulldozer, this looks to be the last hobo adventure. Ed Sanders had a story about this very night, when his own beloved hole-in-the-wall gets its last vicious plugging from the landlord: “Party while suffering,” he writes. It is as happy an ending as he is able to provide.

Who were the hobos of Hobo Alley?
Steve Becker: Random guys—the regular hobo crowd! They scared some people but I’d say, ‘Look, you can lie out in back here,’ and I’d bring them water—‘Just as long as you don’t make a mess!’ After a while, they knew me—it was sort of an edgy coexistence!
Can it still be Hobo Alley when half the buildings that made the alley have been torn down?
We want to get this out that this could be the last one. When they see the funky light show and know that it is Acres of Books—an institution going bye-bye—I think people will come. Maybe there’s a little sense of melancholy? I don’t know if it’s so important that some buildings were knocked down. I guess it is kind of traumatic.
What will you miss most?
It was kind of open and free and it was funny to see the well-heeled—not the elite, but people in a better socio-economic bracket—kind of more than tolerating the hobos! I really like the idea of coming up with something where you don’t really expect to find anything. My family owned a wrecking yard and sometimes people used to come walk around—in case they could find the jewel in the junkyard. It’s like people coming into Acres. ‘God, this is a really skanky alley, but this is neat music!’ That’s what we try to provide.
What kind of mood should be people be ready for? A hobo wake?
It better be some goddamn fun or I’ll be pissed! Be there, be supportive, be wild but not too loud. Take pictures and enjoy it and realize these types of things are disappearing! We are the last of the Mohicans—I’ve had to watch the city I was born in take away all this cool stuff and make itself into La Mirada by the Sea. They are never going to put up a place like this again. So remember what was here—what we tried to do.

HOBO ALLEY WITH DENNIS ROBICHEAU AND NATIONAL TREASURE ALLEY BEHIND ACRES OF BOOKS | 240 LONG BEACH BLVD | LONG BEACH 90802 | SAT 6PM  FREE | ALL AGES | ACRESOFBOOKS.COM

Tags: acres of books, Hobo Alley, Long Beach, Music, redevelopment