La Jolla

Sunday was spent in La Jolla. I had been there over two years ago with a throbbing tooth ache. The tooth had been pulled so I set my throttle towards the coastline. I took the Number 30 bus out of Old town. It meanders around the beach cities of Pacific, and La Jolla.

I wished to visit the sea lions and enjoy the children playing inside a large cave. I remembered when I taugtht English and we read Mark Twain's Huckleberry Finn. Some of the passengers got off to work in homes. I called them Mexican cleaners. Others were the homeless. They were too easy to spot. They wore a two or three day growth, baggy mismached clothing, and whiskered tennis shoes. I got off on Pearl Street and walked up the hill towards Starbucks. A friendly sidewalk bench told me to sit and grab the Seven Eleven  chef salad package and nuts.

Reengized and I continued on my way. I looked with envy to several joggers who ran by and finally saw my prize. Prospect Blvd turned to La Jolla. There seemed to be a car show going on. I stopped to write and grab a hot chocolate. A young gal told a guy to but her a pastery inside. Many asked questions about her pedigree. I turned right and saw the park overladen with vintaged cars....I heard some thirtees music. I ears took me to a car show. It was forty dollars to get in. I sat my sore limbs down on a folding chair in front of a Austen Healy.

My ears consumed me with music. Several people mistook me for the owner, and I allowed it. My legs then took me to the gateway to the Cove and caves below. I had a gal take a picture of me with a man in the background. He was feeding pigeons that roosted on his shoulders.  led with Street turned to La Jolla Blvd. Several birds flew off of a the shoulder of large rocks. They shared the rocks with sea lions. The tall black birds flew and skimmed the ocean before diving a coming up with a small mackeral.

A group of swimmers joined two seals playing with each other and making a deep tuba sound. Kids were playing in the tidepools outside the caves. Now my hot sun backed face told me it was time to return to the good old number 30 bus.

I walked up Fay Street towards Pearl. On the left of my was Jonathon's Market just in front of a Von's. Lines of people to my right wanted to ener two cafe's eating a brunch.

Now I knew where ex presidents came to die, and me with them.