Surf's City Senior Center.

Well I am still alive -- what with Bronchial Asthma and high blood pressure, guess that God wants me to help him out. I do everything in God's Time and it seems to be working. But on the eve of my 76th birthday, I am pissed at my Mom for not making me brush my teeth. Now I have over one thousand dollars of dental work before a plate is inserted into my mouth.

At the last second, I decided to go to the Rodger's Senior Center off of 17th and Orange Street in Huntington  Beach.  The theme was an Hawaiian lunch with entertainment. Earlier, I was able to run off a few pages on my new book, called San Diego, A Tale of Two Rabbis. 
      Five years from my San Diego Sketch book will  portray an accurate picture of San Diego today -- much in the same way as Tale of Two Cities did almost two hundred years ago. 
   I entered the un-air-conditioned Rodger's Senior Center and played a few bars of Tiny Bubbles on their old grand piano. I received a thunderous ovation as my music has uncovered a new leaf in my musical ears. A lovely five-some allowed me to sit among them. I drank some punch had my fill of cake.
  "Where did you learn to play the piano that way? My Dad back in England played for the violin for the London Orchestra but I never could pick up the piano."
  "Well I have to thank my Mom Edith for that. I only took for a few months but always have had a sharp ear for music. I can play any song if I had heard it before. What is your name and what city in England did you immigrate from.?"
  "I was born in Eastborne just outside of London,  during the war. Our little village was bombed out and we stayed in the basement during the evening shelling of German planes. Mom had to use special stamps to buy anything at whatever markets still were able to open. My brother was sent to the country to safely hide during the nightly bombing."
   "Wasn't that were William the Conqueror, also called William the Bastard defeated your King Harold at the Battle of Hastings in 1066. In 1970, had  I visited the scene of the great battle before heading off for the seaside villages of  Plymouth and Brighten Beach."
   "Well George... your name was George wasn't it? You certainly know your history... These are my dancing friends, Elizabeth and Susie. We go dancing nearly every day. By the way, a cousin who lived in Canada brought me over when I was sixteen."
    "Pray tell, where do you go dancing?"
     "We go to the Eldorado Hotel in Long Beach. Dancing begins at twelve on Monday's and Wednesdays. There is a 20 piece band on Wednesdays, and the good news is that is free."
At that point, our rather skimpy meal of pork and rice was served, of course with more punch. My appetite quickened the more we talked. Susie then chimed in.
      "My birthday is today. One daughter is taking me out for dinner tonight. It had been tough but my four brothers from back east visit me each summer. I lost my husband three years ago. I think of him every day. We moved around quite a lot and he worked on the Nautilus. 
      Also my son just passed away. He had been a quadriplegic for a couple of years with only movement in his head. He fell into a pool and hurt his head.  My second daughter is taking me for dinner next week. My son had two kids, both autistic -- at least one can help the other."
    It was time to go and their Octa Bus would soon be picking them up. For me however, meeting these harming gals gave me the pick up I needed at the Rodgers's Senior Center.