I had lunch here today with a friend whose eyes are so blue they’re violet. We had pescadito frito and potato salad and one big bomba with hot sauce. We had beer. We had a warm winter day. We had a clarinet playing Mack the Knife and some coins to put in the musician’s hat. We had dark strong coffee and we had conversation. About hatred. About violence. About politicians and war. About garbage and the abundance of plastic. About plastic in our food chain. About it being called confetti. About fighting pharmaceutical companies. About fighting air pollution. About cancer and allergies. About fighting the contamination of water. About pesticides. About suicide and San Bernardino. About mainstream fake ecology. About organizing a global march of #NotInMyName. About children. About poetry. About writing things down. About lobbying. About change. About love. About human beings and being human. We had a lot to say. We sat at the cafe in the far left corner, facing the blue building, the town council of Gracia. That’s where my violet-eyed friend goes every week. She doesn’t just talk. She fights city hall.