The Immaculate Conception Church.

My Sundays begin at the Immaculate Conception Church in Old Town, San Diego. Fate brought me to Father Ecker's flock of church-goers  over a year ago. 
    The church had been built in the 1800's, a block or two from the first one that Father Serra built. I took a chance after a meager meal at the Hungry restaurant across the street. There was something magical about a church with pictures of Mary and her son Jesus painted on pictures and a figurine of Christ on a cross in the front of the church.  
    I returned two months later and took up a seat. I sat in the back as other seats had been taken. A tall, thin man wearing the garb of a priest smiled and looked right at his congregation. Whatever came out of his mouth seemed to touch the souls of this Sunday crowd. 
   This ex navy chaplain earned his stripes taking care of the wounded during the Vietnam War. At once his stories massaged my soul. He spoke as if he was speaking to me. No Doubt he had a great connection with God. 
   He has become my Sunday soulmate . After the one hour sermon, some entered the rectory for donuts, coffee  and good cheer. Now my mind felt great and soon I just sat in front of the Old Town adobe cigar store and people watched.  My unclogged mind now is synchronized with my dancing feet.  
  But first things first. I had forgotten my dentures and needed to train it back to Carlsbad and the Motel Six. Check out time was at one o'clock and it was important to get there before the cleaners threw everything out. 
    At the Old Town Train Station stood a herd of orange jerseys. The name of Elway was on one of them. The Denver fanatical football fans were going on the Green Line to the stadium. But me, I had to take the train back to Carlsbad. you see I had forgotten my teeth.
   Since the Amtrak train was late due to track maintenance, I needed to run down Carlsbad Village Drive before twelve o'clock. I needed to beat the maids to my room. I did and found my teeth inside a paper cup.  My desert was the Balboa Bay dancing class that met that Sunday. I didn't feel like going but my feet kicked me out-the-door  anyway.
 
 I returned with teeth firmly planted inside my mouth after a ride on the two o'clock Coaster. After a senior nap, I spilled out of the Mission Valley Motel Six and took the   8 freeway east and took the 163 south to the downtown Park Blvd. exit. It took all of ten minutes from downtown. a few people already were up and dancing before the first lesson. Cup Cake, a charming lad with a bountiful smile quaked at seven.
   "Tonight we are teaching the Waltz and Western Swing. Will the intermediates go over there and the advanced go to my left. Those who are beginning stick-right-here with me."
   I go to the intermediate class where Rainbow Socks gives his lessons. He is a gas with a wonderful personality to boot. His class begins after he lifts his trousers.  Sexy multicolored socks adorn his feet. It might excite the ladies but not I. It is the blond gal across the room who lathers me up. 
   Mr. Socks tells us men to go to one side of the room. His one hour lesson begins. "One, two, touch left turn....I try to concentrate but find it impossible. My computerized mind changes them to young teenagers. They become gorgeous...After seven thirty we have a short intermission and then the second class begins. Tonight it is the Western Swing.
   When the two lessons are over at about eight thirty, we have a free time where we practice our routines.  Out of the corner of my eye I discover the smiling blond has two lovely legs. I wonder if she has a mind to boot.  Yet it is her smile that emboldens me to ask for a dance. I all her my  California Dream.
 I had first seen this dream-gal about one year ago. My mind made her a future pick at Del Mar. Her blond hair and indelible smile remained inside my mind. I just could not get over her smile. And her face, why what a face! Why a plaster of it could have been placed in the Guggenheim Museum. She was sitting besides the wall along with two others.
 But the time is now. Yes it is now time. I look down at her. How brazenly confident I have become, ever since I found out I would soon become a celebrity. Her Hazel eyes say yes before her mouth follows. I lead her to the dance floor and peek at my prize. She looks up and her eyes swivel to the right. I try to keep in time with the Western Two Step Swing number. 

   "Hey sailor boy. Do you always kick so high? I have never seen such a high-kick-routine."
   "Do you remember me. I told you about California Chrome coming to the Del Mar Race Track. The only time my legs show excitement is when they are dazzled with a hazel-eyed-blond-with-such-a-smile. 
    "Well Sailor Boy, you should know that I love the ponies and we hold half interest in several."
   We danced a few more before my eyes begged me to return to the Motel Six in Hotel Circle. I felt so-excited that it took me a long, long time to get into a sleeping pattern.
    This Monday, there will be a live swing band performing on the roof of the New San Diego  Library. It begins at dusk and ends at about eight o'clock. So dance under the hazy damp mist with me.