Santa Monica-The Best American City

 It is not by choice or accident I end up at the finest city in America--Santa Monica. Just stay with me to find out about this wonderful city - where Muscle Beach began, and beach volleyball started. 
    I left the beach volleyball courts and walked to the pier's walkway to Colorado. I felt like a McDonald's Deluxe Breakfast. The chilly breeze unclogged my nose. It felt invigorating to be here again. And who could forget the candy apples, snow cones, cotton candy and the rides on the merry-go-round. 
   "I will take the Deluxe breakfast please."
    "Do you wish sugar? One or two? What about ketchup?"
     I gave the Latina cashier a bit over six including coffee. The McDonald's meal came with pancakes, sausage, scrambled eggs, muffins and jam and of course my coffee. It was going on nine and my stomach was going on empty.  
     A dejected lady walked inside and asked two Swedish tourist for change. The ignored her but I could not. My religions being likes to share my wealth with the homeless - since  I was one once upon a time. 
     I took out a dollar and and pointed towards her. Instead of walking my way, she scowled and hurried out. 
     I took my leisurely time to eat the gourmet meal. I opened the jelly and poured it on my muffins. They tasted so crisp and tender to my joules. The pancakes I saved for last. My stomach rolled over with joy. God's messenger began to speak. 
    "George, time to get up and go for a walk. You've been good lately. Take a walk and then go to the Beverly Hills library." 
    I walked towards Second Street and made a left turn. I entered the old Hotel Carmel. A door man greeted me and I asked the desk for their rates. Rates begin at $184 and go up to $284  for a weekend Suite. Fifteen people congregated outside the Apple store. The early mist had lifted and a clear day presented itself 
   I had thought about going into the Santa Monica Library but remembered God's instructions. The clear fresh breeze tickled my imagination. I sat and waited for the #704 Santa Monica Rapid bus. I sat in the shade in front of the British Cafe. 
    And then it happened. I paid the 50 cents and began to speak to a lady taking a survey. She told me her name was Patricia. I found out she was my age less five and from Jamaica. 
     "What do you think of our city bus service. Do you like these rapid buses. We began them a few years ago." 
     "Why just yesterday I took the Pico Rapid Purple to my daughter's apartment. I think that they are great. I used to live in South Beverlywood." 
     "You joking. I lived on Bedford not far from you. Remember Orback's and May Company?"
      "Yes those were the good-old days. Beverly Hills was a bunch of Mom and Pop stores in the fifties. Why a rabbit could waltz across Wilshire."
       "George, do you remember the Baldwin Hills dam overflowing?" 
        "I lived on August street then. I heard the helicopters overhead. My buddy Steve dragged a lady caught in the spill out of a ditch in front of Thrifty...Patricia, remember when Thrifty's remained opened for 24 hours and you could get an ice cream cone for a nickle..."
        Well as you can see, one of the benefits to riding a bus is meeting people like Patricia. There had been a tragic accident today on Santa Monica so the bus took its time to get to the library. I will never forget her parting words. 
        "We can be honest now, since we have nothing to hide - at our age."