Sorry to have made an error last week. Comic-Com will start next week, not this. Guess I am far from perfect. Yet it was no mistake, I mean my move to San Diego. My kind of town is sexier than any Victoria Secret surprise.
It was another beautiful day in San Diego, where skate boards, bikes, scooters, pedicabs, taxis, trolleys, trains, buses and shuttles make Broadway a day to behold. A ornamented carriage winds around the downtown area with real live horses on weekend days.
Ever since I have given up eating a big breakfast, I have been feel'in my oats. At soon-to-be seventy five, I don't feel ancient. I might even run in the first race at Del Mar this Thursday. The track sent my a mailer to remind me that each Wednesday, hot dogs, and beer are half-price. Of course with my Diamond card, I can watch Wednesday races for free. Also sent was a five dollar voucher for a Saturday race. And since I don't drink I will bring a water thermos tucked inside my back pack. My side pocket will have a camera for all the large Easter bonnets on Thursday. But I am getting ahead of myself.
Of course San Diego needs Del Mar more than the reverse. In no way would San Diego have become so popular without a Bing Crosby and horses. In the forties, anytime Harry told us we were going to the Del Mar Hotel, the expression San Diego had no meaning to us. It, then, was a little town next to the border.
Don't forget Friday night racing begins at four o'clock. This week, there are two late Coaster trains to return you to your commuter parking lot or destination. Next week, the six Amtrak trains will become Coaster's again. Sound confusing, well it is.
Now returning to today. On my way to the #567 Amtrak on my way to Encinitas just left of the tracks, I stopped to stare at the Harbor. This is my living room -- and it is free of charge. A view of Shelter Island and our airport came into view. The sky was half blue. I always sit and stare while sitting on the steal bench. I heard noise in back of me.
A rail crew worked on the trolley tracks. One jolly old soul wore a white hat. Since Cruising George is also curious at times, I motioned for the white hat to come over. He eased his way over while a red flag waved and signaled for an Orange Line to pass.
"Sorry to disturb you. But are you working on the switches today?"
"We are trying to level the track. A jack is lifting the rails and our generator is vibrating to level it. There is a low spot on the rail."
"Interesting. My name of George, what is yours?" Without any prompting, he replied he was the rail supervisor and his name was Jose Galvan. I thanked him and heard the chimes to board the #567 Amtrak for all points north, including all stops inside the coastal area.
I have never felt so tuned into my world. Everything looked rosy and gay to me. I began to read my New Yorker magazine and swept up each article like a vacuum cleaner. My eyes and mind never had it so good. I moved the blinds to hide the sunny glare and removed my tuna sandwich from the overhead compartment.
I made a dam nice sandwich including chopped onions and celery. The tidbits oozed down my throat. The mix of good food and writing made my day begin with a bang. I interrupted the meal to watch the ponies at Del Mar ready themselves for the meet.
A conductor told us we could not use that or any other Amtrak train without a ticket, at least for the first week of the track. Tomorrow would be hat day. Long stems and large hats would be the subjects of today. The gals would look radiant tomorrow.
Got to go now. there is a noon dance up the street. I am in the Encinitas Commuter room.
No comments:
Post a Comment