Huntington Beach--One Year Later

In the World Series of 2036, I had two strikes on the batter -- my fast ball was humming Dixie. All of a sudden, my right are became numb. The next two pitches sailed wide and high. My catcher Mickey Cochran came over to me.
   "Dean you need a little break. You can't give in to Ruth. Try a curve or knuckle ball to give your arm a chance to relax." In the dream I was Dean, and every-so-often I have to take a recess from life to inhale and scale new mountain of life. 
   
The Warner Avenue Synagogue has given me time to reconnect with Him. After the Kiddish, I leave refreshed and take the #706 Warner bus back to Beach. I have been eager to attend since life has thrown a few screw balls my way.
   But first the good news must be presented. My San Diego Rabbi mentioned that 95 percent of life is bull shit, but the five percent left is worth the  price of admission to our what once was our clean earth. My five percent has grown to fifty now as most of the time serenity visits me in his spare time. Part of the five percent is Trader Joes across the street on Main.
   At the end of the month, I fumble inside my jean side- pockets  for loose change. Trader's nineteen cent bananas, a dozen eggs for $1.29, and inexpensive fish, are bargains. And the flowers are inexpensive and just ripe to be plucked for a loved one.
   Even though my car, Dolly had been snatched by somebody, I have learned that Dolly had been my headache and a problem for my pocket book. Today I ride Orange City buses all day -- for get this, one dollar and fifty cents.  I have taken over five hundred bus rides ever since my car was stolen from the Five Points Senior Center but have regained my life with over 20 lost pounds of fat.
   I have learned to play billiards on the fourth floor and re-acquaint myself with a well tuned and sound piano on the same floor. I now play all the Sinatra hits as written such as Witchcraft, Love and Marriage. Chicago, and New York New York.

But what I can't stand are the dimwits at City Hall in Surf City with their police department. I spoke to a City Manger and told him about a microfilm machine that has not worked for ages. He told me that he had it fixed--bull shit it still didn't run thanks to another dimwit the direcror of trhe branach
    The oldest library in Huntington Beach should be closed down. It does not receive Patrons and the computers have been there since the ice age. I give the Surf City Library an F mainly due to its director. and the main one did not care about Global warming. (More to come.)