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A journey into the roots of Jeff Johnson’s feelings and attitudes and responses to life conditions which were learned from the approaches to life that existed in his family, that were forged from the people he met, his cultures, in short, all that he ever was can be found in the seeds of where he’d been and what he learned there. Jeff Johnson, a Black man. A strong beautiful, and proud member of the Creole tribes. He is aware of his tie to slaves brought to his hometown, St. Louis, once the seat of the Louisiana Purchase, a city he practically raised himself in for nearly twenty years, a city he left. Jeff lived in Los Angeles for four years. In the Gare de l'est, in all of the motion and awe of Paris, Jeff reflects on his life as a hustler in Los Angeles, a life that began as a two-year college student but twisted into days and nights between the sheets and about the lives of L.A.‘s Black bourgeoisie and other busy cold, and lonely souls of the city of angels. It is in the Gare, while waiting for a storage locker - before stepping into Paris, that Jeff takes a long retrospective, candid look at his life in L.A. - a life he had bought a one-way ticket from, a set of lessons, most painful, all colorful, experiences he had to stop having. Experiences like death and riots that made him move. Jeff senses the conservatism of everyday Bordeaux on the streets and in nearby villages and reflects upon the meaning of life for him, a Black man, anywhere on the planet, and eventually realizes that he has learned much during the summer of '92 in France, but he also knows that to best apply what he’s learned, returning to somewhere in his country would be best.
