Old Town's best guitar player

   About one year ago, I felt like taking a gun to my head-not really, but almost. Gloria, the love of my life, told me 'If  you were the last Jew in the world, I would not marry you.' It was then I thought about converting to Catholicism.
   I have spent the last four month going to Old Town's Catholic church in San Diego. I drenched myself in the Laws of God. A Reverend Eckert made a strong believer in humility and forgiveness. Yet I needed a little more to remove the last vestiges of disapproval,
   I spent Sunday's at Old Town's Catholic Immaculate Conception Church. I felt much better but needed desert to soften the blows of rejection. In the late afternoons I followed the Chinese tourists from Alhambra in the San Gabriel Valley to the ice cream store. My depression turned to elation. I rodered two scoops of Rainbow Ice Cream and a wave of music from across the way sounded like it was born in heaven.
   I felt so good I ordered two scoops of rainbow ice cream and let Augustine Sanchez
 saturate my soul with his guitar music. I felt mesmerized by how his fingers touched my heart and made it strong again.

   Earlier in the day, I sit in front of the cigar store, and enjoy watching people light and puff up their brand. To my left is an old weighing scale. Few ever spend a quarter to weigh themselves. They simply are embarrassed to discover the truth. Many are fat or obese.
   "Sir I am having a problem. Is the machine broken."
    Here is another quarter. Try it again.
    He lifted his body on the scale. Nothing registered again.
    What had been your weight?
   "About three hundred pounds."
    That is the problem. The scale only holds up to 250 pounds.
   "Thank you very much. Can you join me in an ice cream?"
    No, not right now.
     At that point a couple in love walked over to the wooden Indian in front of the patio. I could tell they loved each other. They held hands and even talked to each other.
     "Jesus, can you take my picture."
     With her hands wrapped around the Indian, she kissed him. Now the dead Indian would have none of it. He woke up and blew a wad of cigar smoke into her face. After she fainted, they left. I removed myself from the ice cream store and ambled to the candy stores. I felt like a quarter pound of their best homemade chocolate.