The Immaculate Conception Church

   I never felt better in my life. Like all Sundays, I looked forward to Mass at  Immaculate Conception Catholic Church in Old Town San Diego. Again, I would be listening to organ music and stories from the Gospel.
  Of course I did my homework. One afternoon and one evening of dancing had relaxed my body, giving my mind and soul a chance to gernerate more serenity in my life. For me, I did not wake up to watch football with its immaculate reception receivers. I didn't watch the news anymore.
   I turned the antenna of my /transistor radio to 1490 on the dial and listened to classical music. I needed to turn the antenna towards the window to pick up God's sun-rays. I opened up my Charles Dickens book about Oliver Twist. I removed my library marker and found the page where Oliver Twist had been nurtured and brought back to life.
   My own life has had its twists and turns, but lately, my own antenna has pointed in the direction of God's creations. My higher power has beamed light into my life. I had the chance to enjoy my two grand kids and write stories about interesting people I have met.
    At about eight o'clock I left the Y on Broadway and made my way past Pissers Corner towards the Seven Eleven on C and Kettner. The sleeping beggars had risen from the store fronts off of C Street. A Blue Line Trolley from Tijuana stopped and started towards the American Plaza. It unloaded its domestics and laborers from across the border.
   Again, my Sunday would begin on Amtrak 567 towards L.A. My stop would again be Old Town and the first Mass on the spot that Father Serra celebrated one in 1734. I threw my coffee cup in a trash can and boarded one of the front cars.
   Inside I felt like a king. Another long haired bearded one sat across from me. A beany covered his head, and hung down to his two angular jaws. He was headed towards Oceanside. Many homeless carry compass passes to keep them off of the streets and provide a free toilet.
   "Are you going to Encinitas Mr. Garrett?"
   "No, this time Old Town is my destination." She didn't place a tag above me like usual
   It was another frequent flyer, the Santa Ana winds, that had cleared out the fog and made San Diego's skyline look clearer than ever. I detrained at Old Town and made my way through town towards the Church.
   I have never felt so relaxed. I entered and to my surprise saw Reverend Ecker at the helm. His happy demeanor put me at once more at ease. The usher found me a pew and now I was in heaven. He went to the pulpit and spoke from the book of Mathew. Several stories connected with this book. Today I gave five dollars for the kitty. At the end of the service at 9:30 the blond singer invited all to the Rectory next store for good cheer, bagels, and coffee.
  A cup of orange juice was all I needed today. I sat at a  front table. Again, Max, Al, and a few others sat at the table.
  "Hey, Al, I wish to know the name of the piece you built for the Old's company?" We had spoken about the first automatic transmission problems the first Oldsmobile transmissions had. He had found out why they didn't work after a few weeks.
   "It is called a 'dole' George." I wished to make sure of its spelling and he corrected me. I needed to spell it 'doll'. He explained.
  "The two clutches hit each other and eventually the cylinders locked. I created the 'doll' to place between them so they would keep them from brushing up against each other. The Old's company used my little doll on all of their cars."
  Al then left for the second Mass at ten o'clock. I now sat with a two others. One was Max and the other was a middle aged blond. Their words embraced each other. I found out her original home was Mexico. (More to Come)