Sunset at Little Italy

   It was another Red Flag day in San Diego Bay. My nose had run unabated for two days now. But still alive battling chronic Asthma, I got a reprieve and went to the Harbor Area of the City. After an ice cream and glad to know the winds now came out of the West, I drove and left my car at the Old Town commuter station. From there I took the Green Trolley and got off at the Italy and court building station.
Now  the now northerly winds did not clog my nose, I took the Green Line Trolley to the Italy station.
   Now I had the chance to witness the beautiful orange and red colors of Little Italy. The sun had begun to set over the Harbor while I trudged up the street to a camera store on India Street. The white table cloths told me lots of regulars and tourists would be making their tables busy yet dirty.
   I sat down at a front table of Phillipa's restaurant. To my right, I saw a Southwest blue make its final decent .It hovered over two buildings. The cooler air gave my bronchial tubes relief for the first time in awhile. It was June in January as many wore shorts today. The hot sun radiated several colors that flicked off of San Diego Bay.
   Across from me sat an old gingerbread looking house. The multicolored wooden structure asked me to take a picture of it later. I was reminded to get a camera. I entered the store and asked a lady for help to purchase the gadget. The store closed at five thirty so I had another forty minutes.
  "Go over there and three gentlemen in the camera department can assist you."
   A tall smart looking young man approached me.
   "May I help you?"
    I am looking for a film camera?
   "We don't sell film cameras!"
    What do you mean you don't sell film cameras?"
    Well after a few minutes my lens cleared.
    Forgive me, in my day we called them film cameras. What I need is a digital camera, not too expensive. Paul, he told his name later, removed a Nikon and showed me how the  $85 camera worked. I bought a few attachments like batteries and a plug for the internet.
    I paid $123 for everything and decided to try it out. The little myopic house across the street beckoned me. I asked a young lady sitting at a table to do the honors with Mr Blue Eyes, me, sitting on the structures wooden rails.
    "Get your ass off of me. Don't you know I am an icon on this street! Now go ahead and take your pictures."
    After a few shots were taken, I strode with my camera, remembering to turn it off and sat by a patio that honored the Italian World War Two dead. During World War Two, many Italian fishing boats left the harbor for the Pacific to aid our naval contingent in the Pacific. Many did not return and there is are monuments t these brave me all over the Harbor. Then I saw a familiar face.
   "Hey Ron, what are you doing here?" He was walking north and turned around.and sat next to me.
   'Need to buy a few things at the art store up the street.
   Did you here somebody died at the Y yesterday. His name was Richard Sharp. There was a poster asking for money for his burial in our kitchen.
   "You don't mean the tall good-looking black dude. My he was so young. But we have a death or two every-so-often there."
   I'll bet the foul air and cockroaches have something to do with it.
    "Hell, the real problem is the fowl drinking water there. I became ill after I had moved in so made myself by the bottled kind. Besides bad water, I worried about the asbestos inside the rooms. You can bet the owners haven't checked on these things."
    "I use a special spray for the roaches. And it reminds me that Bill looked in on me last night. He worries about me and other guests. Many are disabled or on Section Eight. Heroin is the drug of choice in our hotel.
   After Bill left, I must have sat by a restaurant for several more minutes. The light on bay wind and effervescent colors made it quite a Little India afternoon. A young couple sat next to me savoring their wine and pizza. I became jealous but could not afford the two right now.
   
   You don't need a camera to enjoy Little Italy. Your memory chip will keep it forever. I wondered why the street had been named Italy instead of Italy. (edited with pictures later.)