Muscle Beach

They say that Salmon swim upstream to return to their place of birth. This weekend, I that returned.  
   Sunday, my daughter wished me to stay over. Of course she loved it when her Dad, me, threw a dollar her way in exchange for a Wild Salmon dinner. The previous day, I said "Hello" to Larry King taking his usual stroll down Beverly Drive and attempted to used the updated Cities computers - they crashed. So I made the decision to go to Santa Monica Beach.
 Outside my daughter's Pico apartment, I picked up the Big Blue 7 bus. After I climbed aboard, I was greeted by a foreign country.The number 7 carried mainly Latino women in various stages of a sleeping pattern. Besides me, a lone white, sat well dressed gentleman going to church. The two carried bibles and wore ties. 
  Like I said, I climbed aboard, paid my senor fifty cents and turn around. Facing me were mainly Latinos, some half asleep or in deep sleep. I wondered if they were the only ones who got up early to work on our day of Sabbath. I joked with the bus driver but my audience did not understand. They did understood work and what dinero meant.
  The 7 lumbered down an empty Pico Blvd. And why not? It was the Sabbath. We swept past the Landmark, Norms, the new 99 Cent Store, crossed Sepulveda and sneaked under the new Exposition Metro-still under construction. . Soon, I thought, everyone would be competing for a ride that would take it to the beach. 
  I disembarked and took the long road back to the Santa Monica Pier. On the way I ran into an old brick structure that was the oldest edifice in Santa Monica. In the eighteen hundreds, it served as a meeting place and tavern. Next to it the Y.M.C. A was busy, and why not, it only charged $39 and change to share a room with seven others and guaranteed you a Continental breakfast. . 
  My stomach said "find a restaurant in a hurry," and I always please my stomach. . It was a typical beach day: clear and windy. those days that make one forget his woes. A eastern Santa Ana made all run for Kleenex or shelter, all except the pigeons looking for left-overs.
  Bubba Gumps Restaurant, on the Pier, would have to do. The usual north-west wind felt too chilly at nine to keep their doors open.   I took up a stool and ordered sausage, eggs, sour dough and lots of heaping coffee.  The easy-going waitress made me feel at home, just like the one in the preceding story.
   "Got a degree in film from San Diego University. Jobs are scare here. Sharing a room in Culver City. Pay only eight hundred dollars."
   The Asian young lady had lived in Chula Vista with her parents. I thanked her and enjoyed the music of a large party setting up on the pier. Down below the pier were the volleyball courts that I had courted fifteen years ago - during my second  nervous breakdown.  I will never forget how the beach made living possible again. Of course, banging a volleyball where it all began and sucking up the hot rays for over ten years did not hurt.  
   In the forties I recall Muscle Beach. It showcased Muscle Men doing all kinds of tricks. I do remember others like Jack La lane, Joe Gold and even our ex-governor working the weights later on . The platform in the forties showcased Mr. California and even Debbie Reynalds. Hundreds of sightseers with large umbrellas looked on. My Mom's was large with a wooded pole to hold it up. Underneath she set her punch bowl, with sandwiches of tuna and baloney. My brother Mel and I spent most of the time in the Santa Monica breakwater. My Dad Harry worked on Saturdays. 
  And speaking of sticks, I remember when I met the founder of Hot Dog on a Stick and how he began the business. He had told me that his Mom in Kansas used to make the hot dogs whipping up a special batter. He copied her and made the little store next to the lot and across from the volleyball courts adn and strand.  
  But that was yesterday, and today I wished to renew my acquaintances with old friends. On a bench I spoke to Armand. He corrected me when I said that Lick Pier was there. "It was further south. This here pier was where the Aragon Ballroom stood - where the Ferris-wheel and rides are today. 
  I left the pier and decided to visit the library. The Santa Monica Library has a museum open to the public during the week and I thought about  donating some of my old pictures given to me by Cheb Conway...On Ocean Front Blvd, I entered the Georgian Hotel. I could not believe that 1936 building got over $300 for a night's stay. Other hotel rates were the highest in the county. 
 There was the famous Third Street Mall with people from all over enjoying the now, hot weather due to a Santa Ana wind. I saw the King's Inn and other restaurants as well as a thrift shop on Fifth and Broadway...The libraries doors were still shut so this is a good time to return on the Big Blue 7 and get back with my daughter. 
 It's great riding on a $.50 bus ride that deposits me back to my daughter' apartment and a Wild Salmon dinner plate ready to eat. (More to come and unedited.).