Another Wave hits Surf City

No Starbucks for me. I make my own brew and watch the others order lattes and mocha drinks. Each patron spends about six dollars with the pastry included.
  My morning date with Starbucks, a sub station of Albertsons on Main and Yorktown,  began last Friday. Yes last Friday still is a little bit fussy. Only a week-away from the pervious Friday's debacle, I had no idea today would be horrific too.
  Only a couple of years ago, I survived another hurricane while living in San Diego. It was called Hurricane Julio. Why it made me do a fandango just to breathe. The Lindbergh Airport saved my life with its pure air-conditioning.
   I had hopped to dodge the muggy Monsoon headed from Mexico. No such luck. Why Huntington Beach is known for its ocean breezes off the ocean. Ever since I moved into the El Loco apartments on Main and Florida, my life has been a roller coaster.  Things have gone haywire in Surf City. Hell, whatever happened to those cool breezes?
  That Friday, surf city temperature danced all the way to one hundred. That is correct. for an asthmatic it means death. I thought the Huntington Beach Central library would be just the ticket-wrong again. The Talbert library was built before the notion of Global Warming. I had been built with windows everywhere to take advantage of the views of the greenery outside.
Well last Friday it felt as if I carried two suitcases filled with bricks on my shoulders the entire day. I could not breathe. I slithered inside the walk-in Kaiser on Beach and luckily found a doctor who ordered Penicillin.  It helped a great deal but not entirely. You see the blow-torch from Mexico carried on.
  So I took action, still fuming when Crazy Helen told me that the "Old people forgot to turn off the library's AC so we had them disconnect. .An AC in the library was the reason I moved in -- and to compound my troubles the mad manager would not get me to new lock. I almost died during an earlier humid heat wave.
    I found solace at the Chabad Synagogue on Warner Avenue. At least there I could gorge myself on clean pure air and the enjoy the spirituality of the place of worship. Like thousands of others, I made my way to the Century Movie Theater and took in two movies. That helped but the weather man didn't.
    In the early morning I made my home at Albertson's, a few clocks south of my apartments. A line was forming. Lattes and Mochas were the order of the day along with pastry. It was plain to see why many owned large exteriors. Energy drinks and sweetness is a major part of their lives, especially during heat waves.
Surf city, you see, was built on a oil field, a little after the Signal Hill find that put derricks in line to pump black gold.. Firestone, Goodrich, Standard and countless other companies  hoped to ride the crest of the wave to fortune. The rail lines serving Newport and Huntington Beach were cast aside in favor of cars and trucks.
  In the late thirties, doctors diagnosed the first cases of lung cancer. During March of 1942, Standard Oil was investigated for trying to corner the rubber market. They tried to scuttle the makers of synthetic rubber needed for the war effort. A company owned by Baer began producing a special gas to put Jews to sleep inside crematoriums -- and so most of my Grandma Schneider's sisters and parents. 
   I find it amazing that in a beach city, so many are fat with some using wheel chairs, walkers and canes. And you ask why while in my day all of us were skinny. Just go outside and take a deep breathe. I spent a few days at the Hoag Hospital on Beach Blvd. Inside the air rivaled that of Albertsons. I spoke to a building inspector who confirmed that I should "follow the rain" to Seattle.
   With the weekend approaching, I took a last stab at the Kaiser-Walk-in. I had been huffing and puffing but my prayers were answered. I sat in a wheel chair and told Dr. Kwoon my symptoms. "Qbar Mr Garrett will remove the slime inside your dead bronchial tubes. Begrudgingly I paid the $50 and inhaled the spray. To my amazement, all the crud inside my lungs flew out of the cage and hit the head pharmacist.
   Well got to go now. I need to eat and play the piano at the Rodger's Senior Center. AS long as I breathe, I will play the song, "You were only fooling...while I was falling in love." (Not yet edited.)