Saturday morning found me stranded, without my car Dolly, my little Cavalier. Yet I felt hungry for prayer and food. But it had been a turbulent month, so I felt a bit dizzy. I just could not believe that my Dolly, my companion for over nine years had vanished while I took my nap at the Five Points Senior Center. I could not believe that even my disabled license plate had been ignored.
Why Dolly and I had been in a lot of close calls. Even with the gas tank read empty, she still struggled drive me to my destination. When I stopped in Baker eight year ago on a Sunday with the noonday temperature hitting one hundred and five, she struggled to get my locked gear box unlocked. Her car seat needed propping, the AC no longer worked, as well as the radio and several other features, but she carried me through heavy storms, fogs and streets filled with mud holes. R...g R..g R..g
Excuse me, that was the phone. "No I can't see Dr. Gold next week. My brother is in the hospital with pneumonia. Let me call you next week."
Going on nine, I showered and shaved and picked up my yarmulke, my prayer cap, and out the door I went. On the corner of Elis and Beach are Jack-in-the-box, and a car wash. On the corner is a barber shop and new apartments building. My legs felt tired but the more I walked the more they bent into shape. The #29 bus took me to the Warner Avenue bus. My blue bus book told me the times the buses arrived.
The Warner Avenue bus came on time, nine, fifteen. I would be one of the early daveners today at the Chabad on Warner and Bolsa Chica. I wrapped shawl over me and grabbed two books. The chants of yesteryear softened the past month. I became stronger with each prayer. At about eleven thirty the Reb presented his speech.
He spoke about Moses come down from the Temple Mount with the ten commandments. In shock when he saw that his followers had produced an idol made of gold, he broke the tablets but then though better about it.
"Hey God, give my people another chance. Just maybe they are slow learners."
God agreed and he again climbed the mountain only to return with his face blazed in gold. The people could not face him so he put a mask over his face.
"And so it is with prayer. Those who come everyday and believe have gold inside their veins and nothing can tarnish their lives. Those who feel can climb any mountain."I forgot that I had been without food for a day, but that Saturday's Kiddish gave my stomach nourishment that had already been provided to my mind.
On the lunch table were melons, beans. herring, lox, a mixed salad, dill pickles, chips and a pumpkin pie,
Well I inhaled this exhibit of food in honor of Helen who had recently died She spoke eight, yes eight languages and her grandchild spoke lovingly about her. I ate three dishes before I looked at my little time piece. Now I wasn't supposed to return on a bus, we need to walk on the Sabbath but a ten mile walk to my apartment was bit too much.
I returned the way I came and felt so good in the mid=afternoon, I played a few ditties on fourth floor piano. I did not hear them enter, but when I had played a Cole Porter favorite, Night and Day, I met the wife and daughter of one who had entered the apartment recently. Daughter Dina spoke.
'You are a master player of the piano. My Dad, Delbert Mudd who just moved in. We would be only too happy if you would knock on his room number 522."
"I would be delighted and will also take him across the street for food and drink."
"Come with us to meet him!"
Well not to bore you Delbert looked just like me, old but still handsome. He invited me to Mario's across the street, a few stores down from Trader Joe's and to the west of the Java restaurant. But what kindled my interest was when he spoke about dentistry.
"Now Mario's was busy. The talk was loud and everyone celebrated life. We received a phone that shook when our fifteen minute wait was over. Delbert had a martini and I asked for the usual, a cherry coke with a clean straw. When the phone shook, we were escorted to a table. My stomach, now accustomed to food, wanted more.
I ordered the enchilada with tacos and he ordered only the enchilada. The the two of us had a ball enjoying the Mexican meal. For the first time in ages, my stomach told me "enough is enough". We high-balled it back to our residence.
"You know George, I was top in my class in high school and Chicago University. In dentist school, nobody could produce an better mold for a tooth than I. I taught dentistry at Pepperdine University in the seventies. We used gold filling then, since they last a long time. But I covered the God, I mean Gold with titanium so the crown would last."
"Wait a second Delbert, you just gave me an idea...My Rabbi told us that when we pray real hard, we become like your mold, but instead of a tooth, we now have a shield to make us stronger in our times of trial."
The next day, we breakfasted at the Java and he had five refills for his coffee. We ate dinner later at the Five Guys and played two game of pool.
I even forgot about my lost car, as my new friend will soon be driving me around in his Jag.
Guess I must have prayed real hard since I got more than what I had asked for.
Monday, February 29, 2016
Tuesday, February 23, 2016
Huntington Beach Blog.
A dollar and and a half all day. Since my car had vanished from the Five Points Apartment building, I had to resort to putting the rubber to the cement-- instead of the rubber to the metal.
In no way would I stay grounded inside my Main Street apartment. After a meal of eggs and bread, I walked to Beach Blvd and used my 2016 Octa bus book to find the times. Bus numbers are not posted so you need a program to find out the times and which bus stops there.
I heard a bang while I waited for the #29 bus to appear. Two cars collided when the black SUV ran a red light and careened into a smaller compact car heading north on Beach. The driver of the smaller car sat on the curb while the firetrucks administered first aid and the policeman directed traffic.
The bus appeared and I slid a dollar into the slot and placed two coins inside the machine. The bus driver gave me an all-day-pass. I needed to watch some volleyball off the pier...After an hour I decided to visit the Pacific City Mall off of the P.C.H. I needed to get a money order at the post office. Of course it would be the only one closed on a Saturday -- you live an learn. I checked the trailer parking lot and found it cost sixty dollars to park there over night. Regular car spaces were only fifteen dollars.
To my chagrin, I found it to be a glorified street mall and with global warming, a shell should have covered it. Oh well, to each its own. Didn't City Hall know why the In-N/Out and Trader Joe's get all the action-da, da- its cool air. In fact Trader Joes advertises they have the coolest air in town.
I found the bread and coffee shop also open to the dirty smog baked by Mr. Ozone. The restaurants had open views but I wondered what was going to happen when the heat of August and September gets its paws on the outdated mall.
Back on the 29 bus again but this time headed north. I decided to cool off at the Starbucks in the Big Lots shopping center on Beach off of Victoria Blvd. To my surprise it was cool inside, and two dollars for a house brew was all I needed for R and R. I must have been on sixty buses the week of my vanishing car, and I needed to pro of my legs up, read and relax.
This tall-corner-stoned Starbucks filled the prescription I sorely needed for the end of the week. And there was no need for a combination-it was so cool. Now I could read and write and smell the ocean air each time the door opened. We were only half of a mile from the beach. The people dressed up-scale and were polite. I wondered if I could find a two bed apartment in the area. Also if the Wall Mart could make a money order for me.
After two hours, I decided to head for home but only after going to the Wall Mart. There for one dollar, the market owned a machine that paid my Edison for only one dollar. I bought a ham at half price, a loaf of fresh bread and a mango-- total of $4.75.
Again the #29 drove me back to my apartment, and thank God it did not vanish as well. Not bad for one dollar and fifty cents, ha?
In no way would I stay grounded inside my Main Street apartment. After a meal of eggs and bread, I walked to Beach Blvd and used my 2016 Octa bus book to find the times. Bus numbers are not posted so you need a program to find out the times and which bus stops there.
I heard a bang while I waited for the #29 bus to appear. Two cars collided when the black SUV ran a red light and careened into a smaller compact car heading north on Beach. The driver of the smaller car sat on the curb while the firetrucks administered first aid and the policeman directed traffic.
The bus appeared and I slid a dollar into the slot and placed two coins inside the machine. The bus driver gave me an all-day-pass. I needed to watch some volleyball off the pier...After an hour I decided to visit the Pacific City Mall off of the P.C.H. I needed to get a money order at the post office. Of course it would be the only one closed on a Saturday -- you live an learn. I checked the trailer parking lot and found it cost sixty dollars to park there over night. Regular car spaces were only fifteen dollars.
To my chagrin, I found it to be a glorified street mall and with global warming, a shell should have covered it. Oh well, to each its own. Didn't City Hall know why the In-N/Out and Trader Joe's get all the action-da, da- its cool air. In fact Trader Joes advertises they have the coolest air in town.
I found the bread and coffee shop also open to the dirty smog baked by Mr. Ozone. The restaurants had open views but I wondered what was going to happen when the heat of August and September gets its paws on the outdated mall.
Back on the 29 bus again but this time headed north. I decided to cool off at the Starbucks in the Big Lots shopping center on Beach off of Victoria Blvd. To my surprise it was cool inside, and two dollars for a house brew was all I needed for R and R. I must have been on sixty buses the week of my vanishing car, and I needed to pro of my legs up, read and relax.
This tall-corner-stoned Starbucks filled the prescription I sorely needed for the end of the week. And there was no need for a combination-it was so cool. Now I could read and write and smell the ocean air each time the door opened. We were only half of a mile from the beach. The people dressed up-scale and were polite. I wondered if I could find a two bed apartment in the area. Also if the Wall Mart could make a money order for me.
After two hours, I decided to head for home but only after going to the Wall Mart. There for one dollar, the market owned a machine that paid my Edison for only one dollar. I bought a ham at half price, a loaf of fresh bread and a mango-- total of $4.75.
Again the #29 drove me back to my apartment, and thank God it did not vanish as well. Not bad for one dollar and fifty cents, ha?
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
The Other Way to Los Angeles
Cost me a total of $4.25 to go from Huntington Beach to Los Angeles -- and I never missed the five freeway with all of its hangups. No for me, it would be the Beach Nut bus all the way to the Metro Station.
You just might say that the vanishing act of my car inside the Five Points Senior Parking lot sent a message to me. "George, you have been too complacent with me lately. Begin a new life, the way you used to do while a denizen of San Diego."
I placed three hard boiled Trader Joe eggs in my back-pack, along with Costco turkey slices, two tomatoes, and two tangerines. A bit dark at five thirty, but what the hell. I needed to rid myself of reality and change my life. At least my brother Mel still lived at the Kindred Hospital in Santa Ana. A nurse telephoned me that he had been eating although still on full oxygen. I felt bad I no longer had wheels to see him, but had to take care of my own health as no longer do i have a car when needed.
The Five Points is only a few blocks from the Main and Beech bus stop. The OCTA bus arrived at about five. I paid one dollar and fifty cents for an all day pass. It allows one to ride any OCTA bus for the duration of the day.
The little flashy eyed bus driver reminded me of Betty Boop, a cartoon caricature. Her phony eye lashes sprinkled love my way. It was too dark to get a handle on her. I sat in the back with a tattooed neck and a sleepy lanky kid who had one too many. The bus lurched forward and made too many stops. The buses stop every two or three blocks, quite unlike the ones in San Diego or Los Angeles.
Under the 405 freeway it stopped and the driver came to the back. A nicotine-smelling wheel chair boarded. Wow, I could not believe how large her top-side was. She packed a pair of fifty H's. She gave me a wink, fastened nicotine in, and returned to her chair. It took about one hour and fifteen minutes to get to the bus station.
It may have been her first time on the 29-A bus. I told her where the turn-off was located, a few blocks after the 5 freeway. I believe the street's name was Devin I paid $3.75 for one of the early trains that had originated from Oceanside.
"Next stop Norwalk." the conductor blurted out. It felt great to breathe fresh air for a change. Surf City has some of the dirtiest on the coast -- guess too many folks live in a tiny space I removed my lunch and enjoyed every morsel.
My Metro ticket allowed me one tap on the underground . I took the purple line to Western and linked up with the Big Blue Rapid bus.
I met a friend at Coffee Bean before getting on the number 14 bus to go to Wilshire. I had an appointment with a oral surgeon. I needed one tooth extracted but Dr. Daggat removed four front teeth.
I celebrated with a long one-foot sub sandwich before taking the @20 Red to Western and a return trip to the Union Station. The train left at 2:15 and it arrived a few minute later at Buena Park where the temperature reminded me of Palm Springs. It took one hour to arrive back at my apartment but on the whole, I had a great day.
You just might say that the vanishing act of my car inside the Five Points Senior Parking lot sent a message to me. "George, you have been too complacent with me lately. Begin a new life, the way you used to do while a denizen of San Diego."
I placed three hard boiled Trader Joe eggs in my back-pack, along with Costco turkey slices, two tomatoes, and two tangerines. A bit dark at five thirty, but what the hell. I needed to rid myself of reality and change my life. At least my brother Mel still lived at the Kindred Hospital in Santa Ana. A nurse telephoned me that he had been eating although still on full oxygen. I felt bad I no longer had wheels to see him, but had to take care of my own health as no longer do i have a car when needed.
The Five Points is only a few blocks from the Main and Beech bus stop. The OCTA bus arrived at about five. I paid one dollar and fifty cents for an all day pass. It allows one to ride any OCTA bus for the duration of the day.
The little flashy eyed bus driver reminded me of Betty Boop, a cartoon caricature. Her phony eye lashes sprinkled love my way. It was too dark to get a handle on her. I sat in the back with a tattooed neck and a sleepy lanky kid who had one too many. The bus lurched forward and made too many stops. The buses stop every two or three blocks, quite unlike the ones in San Diego or Los Angeles.
Under the 405 freeway it stopped and the driver came to the back. A nicotine-smelling wheel chair boarded. Wow, I could not believe how large her top-side was. She packed a pair of fifty H's. She gave me a wink, fastened nicotine in, and returned to her chair. It took about one hour and fifteen minutes to get to the bus station.
It may have been her first time on the 29-A bus. I told her where the turn-off was located, a few blocks after the 5 freeway. I believe the street's name was Devin I paid $3.75 for one of the early trains that had originated from Oceanside.
"Next stop Norwalk." the conductor blurted out. It felt great to breathe fresh air for a change. Surf City has some of the dirtiest on the coast -- guess too many folks live in a tiny space I removed my lunch and enjoyed every morsel.
My Metro ticket allowed me one tap on the underground . I took the purple line to Western and linked up with the Big Blue Rapid bus.
I met a friend at Coffee Bean before getting on the number 14 bus to go to Wilshire. I had an appointment with a oral surgeon. I needed one tooth extracted but Dr. Daggat removed four front teeth.
I celebrated with a long one-foot sub sandwich before taking the @20 Red to Western and a return trip to the Union Station. The train left at 2:15 and it arrived a few minute later at Buena Park where the temperature reminded me of Palm Springs. It took one hour to arrive back at my apartment but on the whole, I had a great day.
Saturday, February 13, 2016
A Trip to Harrah's Casino in North County
Thursday afternoon was a day sent from hell. My oh my did I learn my lesson. In no way did I wish to take the bus ride up south to Escondido and through the tall rustic mountain to Harrah's Casino inside the forever hills of North County. but the events of Thursday made me bus it the next. .
The true story begins on Thursday afternoon. I accompany Pearl on the piano at the Rodger's Senior Center back at the Five Points Senior Apartments at about 12:30, exhausted. My brother's near heart attack caused by Pneumonia kept me awake for a few nights, and his neglect at the Fountain Valley Hospital made me ill. . Eight years I have kept him alive since we have become close in later life. I still can see my father's personality when we are together.
Well like I's been saying, I went for my old-timers nap and awoke at about three o'clock at the Five Flags Apartments across from Trader Joe's. I wished to end my day reading the New York Times at the U.B. library off of Talbert.
My car had disappeared from its space. It had become part of me, like a women. Did she run off in my apartment across from Trader Joe's.I had been dealing with too much lately, not of my own doing. I had tried to keep my life simple. I walked into the security garage area. "Was I dreaming?" My 2002 Cavalier disappeared. I felt numb and my body trembled. 'Hell I spent $1,600 a month for my apartment and who could have taken this old black car?
My attorney told me not to speak of the case of the missing car as it just might end up in court. Yet I had lost another car after I had left the windows open. Perhaps the disappearance of my car Dolly might have been for me to get my football story finished -- and enjoy a book signing at U.S.C. After all Amby Schindler still lives on at 98, and the last of the great players under Howard Jones.
After a sleepless Thursday evening, after a sleepless night, I needed to get away from reality. I felt that somebody had raped me -- a dam useless feeling. The next morning I jumped on the bus ride to Harrah's Casino at eight in the morning. My mind felt stone cold. The bus arrived every morning at eight o'clock outside of the the Five Points to take the suckers to the Casino on top of the rustic yellow and sometimes brown mountains above Escondido.
The bus ambled along and two ladies in front of me chit-chatted the entire way. The AC barely worked but my inhaler did. It had been August hot in Huntington Beach and with unhealthy air. At about nine thirty after leaving San Clemente, the radio announcer cautioned everyone to keep away from Oceanside going South
A rig overturned and is taking up to lanes. Ahead a curved snake ambled slowly, ever so slowly through the Camp Pendleton area. How I longed to be on a surf board rather than on this bus. I survived this part of the drive en then the bus took up the Escondido Freeway all the way to Lincoln Blvd.
Why it took close to two hours to go from San Clemente to Oceanside. The bus driver did a fabulous job keeping her wits. The two gabby females enjoyed the time to feast on words. I did my best to deflect them but just could not.
I kept looking for the Casino and discovered how beautiful the orange and rustic hills looked I had a vision of Cochise or Geronimo riding down the hills to tomahawk us. At eleven fifteen, I saw the large edifice with a colorful background to behold.
I entered and knew immediately boredom would set in. Yet the outside swimming area was the tonic this old warrior needed to stay alive. The sun's war-painted rays glancing off the rustic majestic shaped hills put my stress away. I longed to be with a classy chick decked out lying on a chaise lounge but my teeth needed fixin and my pockets held no coins.
Inside slot machines harvested most to the crop from early Friday visitors. Most of the tree pickers wore large trunks with fruit so blemished that only a drifter wouldn't eat from their plate. Their bulges were in the wrong places. Their nimble fingers tried to press the lucky button that might have won them a jackpot. I couldn't see how these machines could offer solace to these patrons with nothing better to do.
Again I trembled at the thought of returning home to find Dolly, my car, not in her spot. -- and with Surf City with the worst transportation in the South Bay. But I felt better even though I spent more time o the bus than inside the Casino. $150 would have gotten me a king sized bed but on my retirement, making ends meet was no small task.
The bus left the hill top Casino at three fifteen. The bus was hot inside, but who cared. I forgot my troubles for a day, and thank God I made it for another. And oh yes, the two-gabby ones continued their conversation. The bus ride home took almost three hours. Somehow riding the bus made me forget my sorrows of my lost Dolly, my sole mate car.
Nut and Bots for today: Put your troubles in a small slim bag and smile, smile. Take the day off and exercise your cheeks.
The true story begins on Thursday afternoon. I accompany Pearl on the piano at the Rodger's Senior Center back at the Five Points Senior Apartments at about 12:30, exhausted. My brother's near heart attack caused by Pneumonia kept me awake for a few nights, and his neglect at the Fountain Valley Hospital made me ill. . Eight years I have kept him alive since we have become close in later life. I still can see my father's personality when we are together.
Well like I's been saying, I went for my old-timers nap and awoke at about three o'clock at the Five Flags Apartments across from Trader Joe's. I wished to end my day reading the New York Times at the U.B. library off of Talbert.
My car had disappeared from its space. It had become part of me, like a women. Did she run off in my apartment across from Trader Joe's.I had been dealing with too much lately, not of my own doing. I had tried to keep my life simple. I walked into the security garage area. "Was I dreaming?" My 2002 Cavalier disappeared. I felt numb and my body trembled. 'Hell I spent $1,600 a month for my apartment and who could have taken this old black car?
My attorney told me not to speak of the case of the missing car as it just might end up in court. Yet I had lost another car after I had left the windows open. Perhaps the disappearance of my car Dolly might have been for me to get my football story finished -- and enjoy a book signing at U.S.C. After all Amby Schindler still lives on at 98, and the last of the great players under Howard Jones.
After a sleepless Thursday evening, after a sleepless night, I needed to get away from reality. I felt that somebody had raped me -- a dam useless feeling. The next morning I jumped on the bus ride to Harrah's Casino at eight in the morning. My mind felt stone cold. The bus arrived every morning at eight o'clock outside of the the Five Points to take the suckers to the Casino on top of the rustic yellow and sometimes brown mountains above Escondido.
The bus ambled along and two ladies in front of me chit-chatted the entire way. The AC barely worked but my inhaler did. It had been August hot in Huntington Beach and with unhealthy air. At about nine thirty after leaving San Clemente, the radio announcer cautioned everyone to keep away from Oceanside going South
A rig overturned and is taking up to lanes. Ahead a curved snake ambled slowly, ever so slowly through the Camp Pendleton area. How I longed to be on a surf board rather than on this bus. I survived this part of the drive en then the bus took up the Escondido Freeway all the way to Lincoln Blvd.
Why it took close to two hours to go from San Clemente to Oceanside. The bus driver did a fabulous job keeping her wits. The two gabby females enjoyed the time to feast on words. I did my best to deflect them but just could not.
I kept looking for the Casino and discovered how beautiful the orange and rustic hills looked I had a vision of Cochise or Geronimo riding down the hills to tomahawk us. At eleven fifteen, I saw the large edifice with a colorful background to behold.
I entered and knew immediately boredom would set in. Yet the outside swimming area was the tonic this old warrior needed to stay alive. The sun's war-painted rays glancing off the rustic majestic shaped hills put my stress away. I longed to be with a classy chick decked out lying on a chaise lounge but my teeth needed fixin and my pockets held no coins.
Inside slot machines harvested most to the crop from early Friday visitors. Most of the tree pickers wore large trunks with fruit so blemished that only a drifter wouldn't eat from their plate. Their bulges were in the wrong places. Their nimble fingers tried to press the lucky button that might have won them a jackpot. I couldn't see how these machines could offer solace to these patrons with nothing better to do.
Again I trembled at the thought of returning home to find Dolly, my car, not in her spot. -- and with Surf City with the worst transportation in the South Bay. But I felt better even though I spent more time o the bus than inside the Casino. $150 would have gotten me a king sized bed but on my retirement, making ends meet was no small task.
The bus left the hill top Casino at three fifteen. The bus was hot inside, but who cared. I forgot my troubles for a day, and thank God I made it for another. And oh yes, the two-gabby ones continued their conversation. The bus ride home took almost three hours. Somehow riding the bus made me forget my sorrows of my lost Dolly, my sole mate car.
Nut and Bots for today: Put your troubles in a small slim bag and smile, smile. Take the day off and exercise your cheeks.
Wednesday, February 10, 2016
A Trip to Carlsbad
My P.O. Box is located in Carlsbad, the second largest city in North County. Oceanside is the biggest. I needed to pay my $62 PO Box fee.
And you ask why? Why do I need to have my checks mailed to me rather than fed electronically to a bank. The Fed placed a levy on my last account and dried it up. Never will I trust our so-called-government again!
Hell, in no way did I wish to travel the 405 and then the 5 during the heat wave. I knew my bronchial tubes would be saturated with grime, dust, and that with the introduction of heat, make an atomic bomb explode inside my chest.
Ten thirty provided me with a perfect trip from Surf City to Carlsbad. I arrived at about eleven, checked my mail box, and paid the six month fee for my box. I felt like going to my favorite fruit place to quench my thirst. Simply Peachy on P.C.H. had been my favorite produce store for fresh fruit at bargain prices. Not true today. I bought two navels for 60 cents a pound and an out-of-season nectarine for $1. 42 cents.
I sat on a fruit crate in front of a closed neighboring furniture store. The sound of a northern bound Amtrak train reminded me of how the train's AC cleaned out my tormented lungs. For me, the train's whistle meant traveling, reading and enjoying the view. Not quite today.
By twelve my appetite needed to be satisfied. Up the highway was the North County favorite, Keno's, sure to satisfy your appetite for the least expense to your pocketbook. I entered and called my shot. The meat loaf had been my favorite for five years. Deep voice cracked jokes in back of me while a visiting couple enjoyed their fish and chips. Deep Voice was the local drunk..
Oh yes, Keno's has an open bar from seven till dawn. It is the friendliness bar in town. Too bad I don't drink since I drink the juices of life. Again the sound of the trains whistle made me feel at home once-again.
"What ya have honey?"
'"Hows about the meat loaf?"
"It's the favorite today."
Next to me a man filled his dish with the $2.50 soup of the day. He sat across from me. Within two minutes, I was served. The meat loaf took up half the plate. Mustered in to the other half were mashed potatoes and corn. Why I almost felt like King Henry the Eight. The railroad tracks with all the greenery around it increased my appetite. I placed one dollar in the tip jar and out the door I flew.
My next stop was the Encinitas' Senior Center. It was about one o'clock. I saw Tony at the Mobile under the bridge. He did miracles with my high millage Cavalier. He had changed all of its belts, replaced a worn out alternator-and all for under 5 hundred dollars. His fairness with a job well done earned him plaudits from my soul.
Then it hit -- my breathing became labored. I quickly ran into the Senor Center to spend time in the computer room. The sun somehow filtered through the windows. It was going on Two and the thought occurred that I had better beat it. My breathing felt labored. Oh yes, North County is known for pollen and sits under the 5 freeway.
I made it home and took a well-needed nap. I wondered if my brother at the Kindred Hospital still lived. I felt exhausted by the freakish hot weather. The In-N'Out was just the ticket I needed. I parked at the Beach outlet and ordered.
"Can I have a double burger, instead of cheesed give me lots of pickles and onions."
"Did you say a double double without cheese with lots of pickles and onions."
"You got it!"
Well got to go now. The loaded double double is more than I can handle.
And you ask why? Why do I need to have my checks mailed to me rather than fed electronically to a bank. The Fed placed a levy on my last account and dried it up. Never will I trust our so-called-government again!
Hell, in no way did I wish to travel the 405 and then the 5 during the heat wave. I knew my bronchial tubes would be saturated with grime, dust, and that with the introduction of heat, make an atomic bomb explode inside my chest.
Ten thirty provided me with a perfect trip from Surf City to Carlsbad. I arrived at about eleven, checked my mail box, and paid the six month fee for my box. I felt like going to my favorite fruit place to quench my thirst. Simply Peachy on P.C.H. had been my favorite produce store for fresh fruit at bargain prices. Not true today. I bought two navels for 60 cents a pound and an out-of-season nectarine for $1. 42 cents.
I sat on a fruit crate in front of a closed neighboring furniture store. The sound of a northern bound Amtrak train reminded me of how the train's AC cleaned out my tormented lungs. For me, the train's whistle meant traveling, reading and enjoying the view. Not quite today.
By twelve my appetite needed to be satisfied. Up the highway was the North County favorite, Keno's, sure to satisfy your appetite for the least expense to your pocketbook. I entered and called my shot. The meat loaf had been my favorite for five years. Deep voice cracked jokes in back of me while a visiting couple enjoyed their fish and chips. Deep Voice was the local drunk..
Oh yes, Keno's has an open bar from seven till dawn. It is the friendliness bar in town. Too bad I don't drink since I drink the juices of life. Again the sound of the trains whistle made me feel at home once-again.
"What ya have honey?"
'"Hows about the meat loaf?"
"It's the favorite today."
Next to me a man filled his dish with the $2.50 soup of the day. He sat across from me. Within two minutes, I was served. The meat loaf took up half the plate. Mustered in to the other half were mashed potatoes and corn. Why I almost felt like King Henry the Eight. The railroad tracks with all the greenery around it increased my appetite. I placed one dollar in the tip jar and out the door I flew.
My next stop was the Encinitas' Senior Center. It was about one o'clock. I saw Tony at the Mobile under the bridge. He did miracles with my high millage Cavalier. He had changed all of its belts, replaced a worn out alternator-and all for under 5 hundred dollars. His fairness with a job well done earned him plaudits from my soul.
Then it hit -- my breathing became labored. I quickly ran into the Senor Center to spend time in the computer room. The sun somehow filtered through the windows. It was going on Two and the thought occurred that I had better beat it. My breathing felt labored. Oh yes, North County is known for pollen and sits under the 5 freeway.
I made it home and took a well-needed nap. I wondered if my brother at the Kindred Hospital still lived. I felt exhausted by the freakish hot weather. The In-N'Out was just the ticket I needed. I parked at the Beach outlet and ordered.
"Can I have a double burger, instead of cheesed give me lots of pickles and onions."
"Did you say a double double without cheese with lots of pickles and onions."
"You got it!"
Well got to go now. The loaded double double is more than I can handle.
Tuesday, February 9, 2016
Super Bowl Sunday
Was that my brother Mel...was this Eastern Siberia? Let me back up a bit to begin this hair-raising story.
What led up to Super Bowl Sunday began about one week earlier. A message had been placed with my line phone. I returned Angie's call that Saturday morning. "Mel go hopital lat night...He is at Foutin Valley..had trouble breding."
Mel had lived at the low cost Pacific Royal Assistant Living Center located in Midway City, between Westminster and Huntington Beach. The low life facility served up an endless supply of chicken and used the AC when absolutely necessary. During the cold spell, everyone shivered and some came down with an acute case of bronchial pneumonia. Mr Grim, the owner had refused to allow me to break bread with my brother. He was the master of his domain and drove a sleek brand Jag and his assistants the same. He could have made good bed-mates with Uncle Scrooge of Charles Dickens fame.
But in no way did I have the grease to visit him that Saturday. The end of the month found my wallet in disrepair. I had borrowed my last dollar for gas money to take me to my Carlsbad P.O. Box. My budget had been scuttled do to family issues. To somehow live on twenty dollars for the last week of January had been impossible. .But a few real friends came through: two donated fifteen and three two each. But God was my co-pilot on the following Tuesday. I made it to Carlsbad and found my State Teachers check inside my box. Now I could eat food and repay those who had helped me. I returned to the Five Flag apartments off of Main Street and slept without getting up to pour beans down my gullet. When I visited Mel at hospital off of Warner and Euclid. I did not like the surroundings. It appeared that the predominately Vietnamese patients received most of the care, which left my brother all by his lonesome.
Mel had been an over-eater all of his life, and if you ever met my parents Edith and Harry you would understand why. The morning of the Super Bowl I decided to visit him...Hospital Sundays are notorious for the lack of patient care.
I made a right on Warner and Beach and waved to the $2,43 a gallon gas station. I passed Lowe's hardware, Sam's Club and the Fountain Bowl. The hot sun beat down on me, but did keep my coffee warm. I made a right on Euclid and turned into the parking lot. The jig-saw one story motel made it easy to get lost. I entered the lobby at about one o'clock and a nice kid walked me down a corridor that had more turns than a chased rabbit.
A potty sat in the entrance. It looked as if an elephant had deposited its left-over peanut shells. I turned down the toilet seat bowl. Mel, looked up, or it resembled Mel.
"Glad you are here George. Am hungry and thirsty."
Mel wore a seven day beard. Tubes ran several ways in and out of his nose. He sat up on a chair and the gown did not hide his large belly made bigger a month ago after eating over eighteen hot dogs inside one week. A worker brought in a tray of noodles, meat and string beans, cushioned with canned peaches. Mel's hands shook and since he is legally blind, I began to feed him, one spoon at a time.
His mouth eagerly accepted the food but I could see that he could not swallow any of it. I felt scared. I placed a straw inside a orange juice carton to help and left to find his nurse to help him back to bed. A young tall young man entered. His Jockey shorts revealed he had good taste. He helped my brother back to bed and left. His mind seemed elsewhere.
Finally his nurse Amid entered pushing a computer. He told me that Mel was being treated for Pneumonia and that the previous medicines did not work. He gave Mel a few shots, smiled and exchanged...asked him if he was eating anything. (Not finished or edited.)
What led up to Super Bowl Sunday began about one week earlier. A message had been placed with my line phone. I returned Angie's call that Saturday morning. "Mel go hopital lat night...He is at Foutin Valley..had trouble breding."
Mel had lived at the low cost Pacific Royal Assistant Living Center located in Midway City, between Westminster and Huntington Beach. The low life facility served up an endless supply of chicken and used the AC when absolutely necessary. During the cold spell, everyone shivered and some came down with an acute case of bronchial pneumonia. Mr Grim, the owner had refused to allow me to break bread with my brother. He was the master of his domain and drove a sleek brand Jag and his assistants the same. He could have made good bed-mates with Uncle Scrooge of Charles Dickens fame.
But in no way did I have the grease to visit him that Saturday. The end of the month found my wallet in disrepair. I had borrowed my last dollar for gas money to take me to my Carlsbad P.O. Box. My budget had been scuttled do to family issues. To somehow live on twenty dollars for the last week of January had been impossible. .But a few real friends came through: two donated fifteen and three two each. But God was my co-pilot on the following Tuesday. I made it to Carlsbad and found my State Teachers check inside my box. Now I could eat food and repay those who had helped me. I returned to the Five Flag apartments off of Main Street and slept without getting up to pour beans down my gullet. When I visited Mel at hospital off of Warner and Euclid. I did not like the surroundings. It appeared that the predominately Vietnamese patients received most of the care, which left my brother all by his lonesome.
Mel had been an over-eater all of his life, and if you ever met my parents Edith and Harry you would understand why. The morning of the Super Bowl I decided to visit him...Hospital Sundays are notorious for the lack of patient care.
I made a right on Warner and Beach and waved to the $2,43 a gallon gas station. I passed Lowe's hardware, Sam's Club and the Fountain Bowl. The hot sun beat down on me, but did keep my coffee warm. I made a right on Euclid and turned into the parking lot. The jig-saw one story motel made it easy to get lost. I entered the lobby at about one o'clock and a nice kid walked me down a corridor that had more turns than a chased rabbit.
A potty sat in the entrance. It looked as if an elephant had deposited its left-over peanut shells. I turned down the toilet seat bowl. Mel, looked up, or it resembled Mel.
"Glad you are here George. Am hungry and thirsty."
Mel wore a seven day beard. Tubes ran several ways in and out of his nose. He sat up on a chair and the gown did not hide his large belly made bigger a month ago after eating over eighteen hot dogs inside one week. A worker brought in a tray of noodles, meat and string beans, cushioned with canned peaches. Mel's hands shook and since he is legally blind, I began to feed him, one spoon at a time.
His mouth eagerly accepted the food but I could see that he could not swallow any of it. I felt scared. I placed a straw inside a orange juice carton to help and left to find his nurse to help him back to bed. A young tall young man entered. His Jockey shorts revealed he had good taste. He helped my brother back to bed and left. His mind seemed elsewhere.
Finally his nurse Amid entered pushing a computer. He told me that Mel was being treated for Pneumonia and that the previous medicines did not work. He gave Mel a few shots, smiled and exchanged...asked him if he was eating anything. (Not finished or edited.)
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