A Sunday in Surf City

My San Diego Chabad rabbi a couple of years ago gave the Manchester Hyatt congregation good advice after a day of fasting, during the Day of Atonement: "Make each day as if it were the last day of your life." Ever since I have tried to remove the bullshit in my life and made my life more pleasant and meaningful, of course living according to the laws of Moses and the Ten Commandments.

Sunday morning my day began at Whole Foods in Surf City. It provided clean air,  and a place to read and enjoy the everyday frolic of shoppers filling their baskets to fill them for the week.  For me all I had was a Dollar Tree baloney sandwich and a decaf honey coffee. It felt great to remove myself from my hot moldy apartment on Main.
   I brought a book about the Flying Tigers and like these mammoths, I had a great desire to fill my mind with the excitement of these heroes during World War 2. Of course watching a football game or two didn't hurt. A stop a Starbucks and a free lucky newspaper juiced my day. At two o'clock, I felt top of the day and took a bus to my brother's assistant living facility in Midway City. The 29 A bus dropped me off on Balsa and Beach, a few blocks from my brother's eight year residence.
 I paid my usual five dollars for the first seating at four thirty and grabbed a seat and then...
   "George did you bring me tacos?"
    "Not today Dotty, but during the week I will go to Jack in the Box for them...What is the name of the picture today?"
    "Showboat."
     Everyone watched the T.V. of this Kern and Hammerstein production. Mel, as usual was upstairs, probably listening to the Dodger game on the radio. Dotty brought me an orange from the snack-bar until four o'clock signaled the first seating  Mel had already seated himself as did Mary. I sat across from Mary. A puss coated Mel's left eye and he seemed listless and leaned to one side. 
     A brisket, mashed potatoes, and asparagus were our choices for today. Mel couldn't open is eyes and puss ran out of his left one. Totally blind. I ignored his state and cut his food. I glided his hand to fresh piece and he placed it inside his gullet. He chewed and chewed without swallowing it. Then the endless coughing ensued.
     "Mel cover your mouth, I said cover your mouth!"
     "We don't wish to eat germs along with the meat!" Mary chimed in.
      He gagged on the meat but could not swallow it. His plate had not been touched. Dotty gave me  her chicken finger plate. She loathes American food but loves tacos from Jack in the Box. The Filipina lady from Manila detests American food but loves Mexican.
      Mel could not leave the table. In fact he couldn't move. Overjoyed that the illness happened while I had visited him, I told the manager not to move him and to call emergency. She did not look overjoyed and wished to try to feed him and carry him to is room. Finally she dialed 911 again.
       A fireman entered the room. I recognized Mr. Kelly from the Orange County Fire Department. Kelly looked astounded when I told him it was my brother Mel. His vital signs were within normal and I felt glad to ride in an ambulance.  
Huntington Memorial's ER room was full so Mel remained in the gurney. I signed a few forms and felt glad that I had gotten Him Medical since it is better to have two rather than one.
    "He hasn't eaten the way he should for about a month...He is depressed about his vision. He is aware that he is blind."
     "Is he paranoid.?"
      "No there is nothing wrong with him but his eyes and the snake pit he is in. Three ambulances already shuffled inmates back and forth!"
      A Persian doctor entered and he apologized for his hard-to-pronounce Persian name. I provided him with  much needed information about Mel, kissed Mel good-by and out the door I flew to catch the next bus to Main.  
The Huntington I knew would service him well. Again, I felt overjoyed to ride in an ambulance.