Up-and-Coming events in San Diego.

The Del Mar Fair and soon the races will impact North County. And of course Comic-Com will be back soon. But for me it is the Jazz Festival at the Town and Country in November. 
   San Diego and its satellite cities have been fogged in. A deadly haze grips the area. What folks don't know is that San Diego is part of Mexico and its semi-tropical weather. The lung association listed the five causes of death for San Diego and its surrounding areas. Alzheimer disease is ranked number three with asthma number five. 
  As one whose Mom caused stress and later asthma, I understand what ails San Diego. It is the highest ozone in the country brought about by too many cars for such a small city. But don't gripe, at least you can avail yourselves to a ice blended or double shot ice coffee at Starbucks.
  I seldom drive these days. I prefer to train or bus it everywhere. Again, North County was fogged in all day. I needed a respite to the lid over my breathing tube. I left the Alex and the Franchise Tax Board at twelve o'clock. I needed to remove the levy from my state taxes and I did for ninety days. I like to deal in person rather than over the phone for obvious reasons. Now with the levy breached, I can open a bank account and get a cell phone. The Franchise Tax Board is on Metropolitan Drive in the Fashion Valley area of San Diego.
   I had stayed at the Motel Six that evening in a plush two bed room over looking the San Diego River. To save money, I skipped breakfast that morning. Los Angeles beckoned and later I would take the Metro-Link for the Grand Central Station there.
The deadly fog began to lift as soon as I parked at the Oceanside Transit Center. I have parked there safely without tickets last year. I paid my seven seventy five for my one-way-senior and took up a seat at the bench. I ate my mango and peaches from the Harvest Market and enjoyed the view.
  As usual, car number one's toilet closet was closed so I took up residence in car number two, the quiet car. It allows for quiet reading. I removed my sketch book about San Diego and marveled at how my writing has improved - not bad for one who couldn't read in grammar schools.
  The sky winked its sun as soon as San Clemente cam into view. The pure air opened my mind and my replenished body came alive. God's majestic scenery was unrivaled - and even reality t.v took a back seat to this beach view.
   Miles and miles of cars trudge there way to San Diego on the dreaded number 5 parkway. Those idiots don't they understand that weekends are the worst of times to drive in. Like me, They should have trained in. A good looking kid jumped into the seat across from me. His black weeds looked like grooming would not help. He seemed agitated.
   "All I have is seven dollars left. My wallet held my bus pass, driver's license and my over one hundred dollars. I don't know how I will get back. After I had left La Mesa I noticed my wallet gone...Don't holler Mom..Calm down...Can you send me money to my aunt?"
   Well the chap next to me must have phoned everyone except our President Obama. But of me it added some color to my ride on the Metro. He should have known better than to leave his wallet in his back pack. Hell, my wallet rides with me wherever I go.
   The train pulled into Anaheim and Henry, the conductor told those leaving for the baseball game to have a good time. Soon I was in Union Station. Of course I headed for the antiquated bathrooms. As usual a line of gals waited impatiently while I strode in and took care of nature. I then walked to the Red Line tunnel and after tapping my ticket, got on the Purple Line for Western and Wilshire.
 A rush of beach air knocked off my cap. A rush of energy overtook me. I celebrated my return to Los Angeles by purchasing two tamales from a corner vendor. The Rapid Purple bus picked me up and in no time I was in the hands of my number two daughter. 
 It felt great to be back where my life began, in August of 1939.