Just another day in Oil Town, U.S.A. But this day felt different-in fact it was so cold I had no feeling in my legs even the space heater sat with a beany on its head. Yes 38 degrees in Surf City, U.S.A. But this morning I felt like a new me had begun. in a couple of days I would enjoy the birth of a new grand daughter. Seems strange that one who feared women all of his life would entertain two daughters and soon three granddaughters.
At seven ten, I washed the remains of Lentil soup and filled it with hot water. Even the tap shook it was that cold If only I had bought the thermal at Wal-Mart but that was Monday. At least I bought the ladies pink beany at the Seven Eleven on Main and Orange.
Now filled with water, I placed it on the stove and turned the nob to heat the water. I also poured hot water into my coffee percolator. I pushed the sliding door and entered the bathroom to turn on the hot water. My was it cold, ever so cold. I pulled out a fresh pair of Haines underwear and fresh socks. I flushed my mouth out with Lavoris mouth wash and took my shower and shave. I wouldn't shampoo today since my head couldn't take the cold I water boarded three eggs into the hot water pot. One eggs looked up to me and screamed to let her out.
"Not quite yet. Got to wait for a five minute boil and then I will let you out."
"Don't worry, our congress will not allow me to kill you by drowning, at least not yet."
I toasted some bread and with a pinch of butter sat down and read from my book about Dean Cromwell, a U.S.C. track coach in the twenties and thirties. The hot Trader Joe's tea with a table spoon of honey gave me quick energy. I made sure to remove the three Trader Joe jumbo eggs when they became solid. I didn't wish the yellow blood to streak onto my plate.
"Now be easy on removing my shell...that's the ticket." I didn't wish to hurt Mr. Egg and soon after my breakfast readied for the #25 bus, my destination for the Senior Center on Golden West. I took up my bag, pulled on two woolen sweat shirts and out the door I went. It was going on Eight o'clock and my hands felt the force of the 38 degree temperatures.
Two homeless bikers had huddled themselves inside the bus stop overhang. Each smoked and shook to keep warm. Ones bike was next to him. Many homeless use their bikes for transportation while others scoot on a skateboard. At eight ten I climbed aboard, excited about the birth of another grand daughter.
The bus ambled to P.C.H and made a right at the Hyatt Spa. It continued north and made another right at the Hilton and stopped. Then for a short block made a left on Huntington Street and another on first where I got off. From there I walked to Main Street's Seven Eleven. It is a thrill to sit at the fountain and join the pansies, snap dragons in full bloom. My how my Mom Edie enjoyed flowers.
A homeless Bennie asked me for a buck or two and I nodded no as my reply. I sauntered to the other side of the street to be picked up by the number 25. It was ten minutes late and the driver this time sped up the bus. I wondered what would happen if these drivers went on a one week walk-out to make Donald give up the notion of a wall.
The bus rambled down Orange Avenue north until 17th Street-where the old Rodgers Senior Center stood all alone like a ghost.. After a peek at a grammar school and the higher one, it turned left and after a left on Yorktown made a right on Golden West. I got off on Talbert and could not believe how many bees had staked out the several Rosemary bushes. A sea of blue danced in my eyes.
The overhanging bushes had been cleared so these flowers could breath. Why I have never looked at so many excited bees. The small lake inside had filled and the Mallards and Geese competed for space it offered. The other day, the geese frolicked after the rain and picked up lost weary worms in the open.
Inside the library I worked on the above before my walk across the street to the new Senior Center. Sun flowers glowed on my way to the door. Inside I heard a choir while a piano played some old popular songs.
At the Gentleman's Club table sat Andrew, Louis and soon Tony. Tony began the club since we have had a knack for having a thrill a minutes as we laugh and make fun of today' world. It is our little club that just might mushroom into a bigger one. Soon we were joined by two other girls. Of course our laughter could be heard for miles around.
Thursday, January 26, 2017
Wednesday, January 25, 2017
A Huntington Beach Amigo
"Hey Pedro, save me a place...nice to see you."
A blast of cold wind blew me into the Wal-Mart store of Talbert and across from the Good Shepard Cemetery. An Alaskan cold front stopped in Surf City unloaded three inches of rain on the city. It felt good that I had survived but the evening's forty degree temps told me to take it easy this Monday. After a visit to the Wal-Mart restroom area, I returned and Pedro offered a chair in front of Mac Donald's restaurant.
"Can I get you a breakfast Pedro?"
"No, I already ate, but thanks."
"Small senior coffee please."
The Mac Donald's worker returned eight pennies from my dollar bill. The fast food eatery hires mainly Latina servers, like almost all fast foods -- except In-And-Out. Pedro sat milking a cup of coffee and removed his knap sack from the seat next to him. The long bristles of hair told me he needed a good shave. A dark black gap in the two front teeth told me they had chipped off. No longer was there a flicker of a smile.
I dipped two sugars in my coffee and placed a lid on top, making sure it held snuggly while I placed a straw inside a hole. It felt good to see my buddy who had lived outside but not really homeless. He stayed in back of the baseball diamonds on Talbert and shared space with the shrubs, squirrels and garden snakes. Coffee was his breakfast and a cold can of soup of sandwich made up his dinner.
"Who did you vote for Pedro?"
"Trump, he is quick on the draw but at least he is honest...unlike the last President. Can't stand all of these people going to city hall for a rally. They should indeed brush up on their English so they would know who to vote for."
"You told me that you were born in Texas, right?"
"Yes, Dad had been a hired hand until he came to Huntington Beach. Even though he carried his birth certificate, he didn't have the twenty dollars to take the test for citizenship. What you here fro George?"
"Got to get underwear. and a beany. Shut out of the laundry room since the roof leaked inside the Five Points Senior Center...Are you waiting for the library to open at one?"
"No, got to get to the free city dentist on Newman. My teeth are killing me and they need to be removed. Afterwards, I will the 24 hour fitness to shower and shave."
"You are old enough. Why didn't you apply for social security?"
"Paid only half in...but I will get buy."
"Well, got to get my Haines and a beany. Afterwards, I will get my eight dollar hair cut at the Garfield Avenue exit.
After I had bought two cans of Progresso soup and a bunch of underwear, I walked to the bus stop across from the Habit Hamburger and Kaiser. The 29 bus arrived and I took up seat. a girl with Turrets gave me the eye, and what large bulging eyes.
I had seen her often on the #29 bus that I take to the Senior Center. her feet and hands are in constant motion but there I felt that I had to meet her and would most assuredly provide my e-mail. I said good-by to the tall blond with the long hair and descended to the street.
My day ended with a great short haircut but I did have to wait too long for my bus ride home.
A blast of cold wind blew me into the Wal-Mart store of Talbert and across from the Good Shepard Cemetery. An Alaskan cold front stopped in Surf City unloaded three inches of rain on the city. It felt good that I had survived but the evening's forty degree temps told me to take it easy this Monday. After a visit to the Wal-Mart restroom area, I returned and Pedro offered a chair in front of Mac Donald's restaurant.
"Can I get you a breakfast Pedro?"
"No, I already ate, but thanks."
"Small senior coffee please."
The Mac Donald's worker returned eight pennies from my dollar bill. The fast food eatery hires mainly Latina servers, like almost all fast foods -- except In-And-Out. Pedro sat milking a cup of coffee and removed his knap sack from the seat next to him. The long bristles of hair told me he needed a good shave. A dark black gap in the two front teeth told me they had chipped off. No longer was there a flicker of a smile.
I dipped two sugars in my coffee and placed a lid on top, making sure it held snuggly while I placed a straw inside a hole. It felt good to see my buddy who had lived outside but not really homeless. He stayed in back of the baseball diamonds on Talbert and shared space with the shrubs, squirrels and garden snakes. Coffee was his breakfast and a cold can of soup of sandwich made up his dinner.
"Who did you vote for Pedro?"
"Trump, he is quick on the draw but at least he is honest...unlike the last President. Can't stand all of these people going to city hall for a rally. They should indeed brush up on their English so they would know who to vote for."
"You told me that you were born in Texas, right?"
"Yes, Dad had been a hired hand until he came to Huntington Beach. Even though he carried his birth certificate, he didn't have the twenty dollars to take the test for citizenship. What you here fro George?"
"Got to get underwear. and a beany. Shut out of the laundry room since the roof leaked inside the Five Points Senior Center...Are you waiting for the library to open at one?"
"No, got to get to the free city dentist on Newman. My teeth are killing me and they need to be removed. Afterwards, I will the 24 hour fitness to shower and shave."
"You are old enough. Why didn't you apply for social security?"
"Paid only half in...but I will get buy."
"Well, got to get my Haines and a beany. Afterwards, I will get my eight dollar hair cut at the Garfield Avenue exit.
After I had bought two cans of Progresso soup and a bunch of underwear, I walked to the bus stop across from the Habit Hamburger and Kaiser. The 29 bus arrived and I took up seat. a girl with Turrets gave me the eye, and what large bulging eyes.
I had seen her often on the #29 bus that I take to the Senior Center. her feet and hands are in constant motion but there I felt that I had to meet her and would most assuredly provide my e-mail. I said good-by to the tall blond with the long hair and descended to the street.
My day ended with a great short haircut but I did have to wait too long for my bus ride home.
Wednesday, January 18, 2017
Ben Franklin visits Huntington Beach
George needed a monthly bus pass since he can save time and over thirty dollars for the $22 and change ticket. So after a long deep depressing sleep, he climbed aboard the #29 bus to get to the Vons store.
The loss of his car has made his heart stronger, as well as his ears, nose and mouth. The real America lives on the streets and buses of once called Oil City- since oil wells still dig inside the black city of gold. Ever since last February his legs have yearned to walk more and more.
He thanks God to have given him a chance to serve Brother Mel, who resides inside the Sea Cliff Spa in back of his apartment. Doc Jennings told him his heart beats regularly now and his diabetes is under control. Not bad for one who almost lost his life at the Royale Pacific Community Center where he had been attacked by bed bugs, a psychotic bed fellow, and a ignored growth on his left ear.
The snap dragons and pansies never looked so good. He thought of his mother Edie who planted them each fall. Yes, his walk gave him the opportunity to smell the most beautiful sight in this world. With snow on the Anaheim hills, he waltzed in to the Vons Shopping Center and got in line. He took out a one hundred dollar bill and spoke to the cashier. No longer depressed he handed the bill to a little gal with Gabby on her lapel.
"My good sir, you gave me two!"
"Two what?"
"One hundred dollar bills. They must have kissed each other, I mean stuck together."
"You made my day Gabby. Let me speak to your manager!"
Well George had never seen two large bills stuck together Perhaps it was am omen -- lie the time he found three hundreds and a ten a block away from a Seven Elven in San Diego. The little blonds had been so rattled she forgot to hand him the ticket with change.
He walked to the south corner and placed his arm in a blood pressure machine. It registered 150 over eighty. The loss of his car had made a dent in his blood pressure. He crossed the Target Shopping Center and Beach Blvd before heading to Whole Foods. He remembered when he taught American Literature in East Los Angeles. Ben Franklin was mandatory and he remembered one of his sayings: "For lack of a nail, a boat leaked and sunk." Yes good old George had learned to tie both shoes for the first time in his life so he wouldn't slip into oblivion.
He then walked to the Bella Terra shopping center and entered. The gals never looked so good, even the ordinary never looked better. Now at a counter, he removed his Tuna sandwich from his nap sack. Guilty that he seldom spends much money there, he went to the food bar and bought some white fish and meat balls for five and change. The ladies never looked so good, too bad he didn't wear dentures quite yet. Every organ worked on his body -- and how!
He then walked north to the Old Navy store to return a never-worn pair of pants. Without the receipt, she allowed him to look for another pair -- and of course he found a perfect fit. He felt like a winner all day so he then deleted the movies and with is expired Costco card entered the store. He entered and ate the samples in the back of the store. He almost left without buying anything until he saw a chap selling sugar pop corn.
"Hey big fellow try some of this corn. You will enjoy it."
"Wow...I did a jig and soon several patrons imitated me."
"Hey try the cornel with chocolate."
I did and screamed for more. "ow much lad?"
"Twelve for three bags." Several people copied me and on the way out, I gave another the twelve and told her she could keep one bag. I waited outside and she let me have all three. I sat at a table and ate a few corns. A young girl of five or six came my way. I peered at her Mom who nodded. I gave her a handful.
"What is your name?'
"My name is Sara and . you look like a chicken."
"Now make sure you brush her teeth."
Yes, George's day became like a Franklin lighting rod, a great connection with God.
The loss of his car has made his heart stronger, as well as his ears, nose and mouth. The real America lives on the streets and buses of once called Oil City- since oil wells still dig inside the black city of gold. Ever since last February his legs have yearned to walk more and more.
He thanks God to have given him a chance to serve Brother Mel, who resides inside the Sea Cliff Spa in back of his apartment. Doc Jennings told him his heart beats regularly now and his diabetes is under control. Not bad for one who almost lost his life at the Royale Pacific Community Center where he had been attacked by bed bugs, a psychotic bed fellow, and a ignored growth on his left ear.
The snap dragons and pansies never looked so good. He thought of his mother Edie who planted them each fall. Yes, his walk gave him the opportunity to smell the most beautiful sight in this world. With snow on the Anaheim hills, he waltzed in to the Vons Shopping Center and got in line. He took out a one hundred dollar bill and spoke to the cashier. No longer depressed he handed the bill to a little gal with Gabby on her lapel.
"My good sir, you gave me two!"
"Two what?"
"One hundred dollar bills. They must have kissed each other, I mean stuck together."
"You made my day Gabby. Let me speak to your manager!"
Well George had never seen two large bills stuck together Perhaps it was am omen -- lie the time he found three hundreds and a ten a block away from a Seven Elven in San Diego. The little blonds had been so rattled she forgot to hand him the ticket with change.
He walked to the south corner and placed his arm in a blood pressure machine. It registered 150 over eighty. The loss of his car had made a dent in his blood pressure. He crossed the Target Shopping Center and Beach Blvd before heading to Whole Foods. He remembered when he taught American Literature in East Los Angeles. Ben Franklin was mandatory and he remembered one of his sayings: "For lack of a nail, a boat leaked and sunk." Yes good old George had learned to tie both shoes for the first time in his life so he wouldn't slip into oblivion.
He then walked to the Bella Terra shopping center and entered. The gals never looked so good, even the ordinary never looked better. Now at a counter, he removed his Tuna sandwich from his nap sack. Guilty that he seldom spends much money there, he went to the food bar and bought some white fish and meat balls for five and change. The ladies never looked so good, too bad he didn't wear dentures quite yet. Every organ worked on his body -- and how!
He then walked north to the Old Navy store to return a never-worn pair of pants. Without the receipt, she allowed him to look for another pair -- and of course he found a perfect fit. He felt like a winner all day so he then deleted the movies and with is expired Costco card entered the store. He entered and ate the samples in the back of the store. He almost left without buying anything until he saw a chap selling sugar pop corn.
"Hey big fellow try some of this corn. You will enjoy it."
"Wow...I did a jig and soon several patrons imitated me."
"Hey try the cornel with chocolate."
I did and screamed for more. "ow much lad?"
"Twelve for three bags." Several people copied me and on the way out, I gave another the twelve and told her she could keep one bag. I waited outside and she let me have all three. I sat at a table and ate a few corns. A young girl of five or six came my way. I peered at her Mom who nodded. I gave her a handful.
"What is your name?'
"My name is Sara and . you look like a chicken."
"Now make sure you brush her teeth."
Yes, George's day became like a Franklin lighting rod, a great connection with God.
Wednesday, January 11, 2017
Scrooge Lives in Huntington Beach
A Scrooge lives in Surf City, well not quite. The Royale Pacific Assistant Living Community lies about one mile east of Huntington off of Balsa. The owners name is Edward Moslabodsky, a retread Putin's Russia.
Before Mel almost died there, he had a case of bed bugs and problems with a psycho fro a local hospital. He was in distress and a few weeks later he folded like a piece of garden furniture put aside for the winter. And that was after he had returned from the Francis Park nursing center inside of Santa Ana.
Dr. Ed chief concern was to fill beds and collect fees from Medical and Medicare. Fire trucks and ambulances parked outside the Westminster facility as the ignored were sent most every day to a hospital.
Good old Ed gave him and others diets of chiefly chicken, and all types of chicken. seldom was fish on his diet. About two weeks after Mel had crashed at his center, he was sent to another stingy center named the Sea Cliff Health Center. (Notice that Royal is spelled wrong due to Dr, Ed's lack of education.)
A week into his stay there, Dr. Ed, as he is affectionately called by doctors gave Mel two hundred dollars and a check for about five hundred since he probably felt guilt in his demise there about four months ago. The owners real name is Edward Moslabodsky, a retread manikin born in Russia.
When Mel arrived at the Wax Museum Nursing Center, a Nurse David told me Dr. Jennings was treating him for brain cancer. He stayed at Unit one's hallway for the first two months. The meager food was barely adequate for my brother Mel and I had to barter the kitchen's chef for more and more meat. Mel has always been a meat eater and hates all vegetables, except beets.
About two months ago, Jacob waltzed into the T.V. room exhilarated. I can still remember his words while I watched a Turner movie on channel 25. "Mel is lucky. He will be getting teeth and also a visit from an Eye doctor. And by the way, we are sending him to a better room in the back, much bigger. Sure he will life it. With the smile of a cherub, he left and soon Mel looked upset as he was being uprooted from the first hallway to the back, or Siberia also called the hospice section. He was sent to bed 135 B. ( A week later, Jacob quit.)
As Mel survived the meager food rations, I decided to go to Wells Fargo, by bus and not stage, inside the Von's Supermarket on Beach I placed check number five hundred in my wallet and buses my way to the market.
As most employees of banks, it took her awhile to understand my King's English so she called the store manager, Hector Hernandez for reinforcements. He had been looking out a window of his branch inside the market and when summoned the large bruit lumbered out and cornered me.
"Need to ask a question. Would like to cash this check for my brother Mel who lives inside a nursing home and can't make it here. Would a power of attorney be sufficient to cash the check. also wish to find out if check 7067 is any good." I insisted he replied in writing since no longer do I believe anybody.
"If you become the (POA) Power of Attorney on your brother's Account you will be able to transact on his behalf. If he doesn't have an Account We cannot negotiate anything even though the check is payable to WF."
He left and I walked to the rear for my blood pressure reading. It was high as usual at first, but came down a bit later. I thought about how my relationship wish God had kept me from reacting. I go to the Temple Israel on Warner Avenue.
By the exit and in front of the Pizza concession I felt empowered and called the Royale Pacific at 714 892-4446. Angie the manager who barely understood any English told me to hang on while she called Dr. Edward, owner of the corporation."
" Social Security told us not to issue the check since Mel owes money to them. Also we have returned all his mail to the sender."
"But you know where he lives and it was you who lost his driver's license."
"You can go to Garden Grove's Social Security."
Now you know why I call Edward, Dr. Scrooge. Back in my day, Indian givers were shot for a bounced check, while in England officers sent them to debtors prison until their debt had been paid. But it felt good that I got answers even though I butted heads with one so dump and heartless.
My luck got better when I went to Verizon to return my line phone. These scrooges of the phone world wished members to use their credit cards to pay their bills on line. Also no calls could be made out if you were late in paying. Double billing was prevalent with them. I wiggled them down to $80 from $200 and no doubt I will cost them millions.
With the windy rain pelting me on the way to the Bella Terra, I needed a good shot of Adrenalin to calm my embattled nerves. After a brief sojourn at Whole Foods to down a tuna sandwich and get my barrings I wondered to the Navy Store and treated myself to two pairs of jeans.
It felt proud to have weathered today's storm and let my old pair of Navies to stay inside the trying-out-room. I wished to take advantage of the five dollar movies at the Century Movie House. I had heard about La La Land so I plucked down a bit over five to see the movie. So good was the movie that I hummed the main song while I digested a chicken salad at Costco.
Exhilarated by the cold rain and the great musical I took the bus to my stop at Edris and bought some chow mien for my brother. The slop he was forced to eat just didn't satisfy his palate so this supplement was just what he needed to survive the night.
Bits and Pieces for today: A father cared for two daughters. He gave each a dollar and took them to the candy counter at a movie house. The youngest bought a Hershey Bar with hers, and the oldest kept hers for a rainy day. Who made the best buy?
Before Mel almost died there, he had a case of bed bugs and problems with a psycho fro a local hospital. He was in distress and a few weeks later he folded like a piece of garden furniture put aside for the winter. And that was after he had returned from the Francis Park nursing center inside of Santa Ana.
Dr. Ed chief concern was to fill beds and collect fees from Medical and Medicare. Fire trucks and ambulances parked outside the Westminster facility as the ignored were sent most every day to a hospital.
Good old Ed gave him and others diets of chiefly chicken, and all types of chicken. seldom was fish on his diet. About two weeks after Mel had crashed at his center, he was sent to another stingy center named the Sea Cliff Health Center. (Notice that Royal is spelled wrong due to Dr, Ed's lack of education.)
A week into his stay there, Dr. Ed, as he is affectionately called by doctors gave Mel two hundred dollars and a check for about five hundred since he probably felt guilt in his demise there about four months ago. The owners real name is Edward Moslabodsky, a retread manikin born in Russia.
When Mel arrived at the Wax Museum Nursing Center, a Nurse David told me Dr. Jennings was treating him for brain cancer. He stayed at Unit one's hallway for the first two months. The meager food was barely adequate for my brother Mel and I had to barter the kitchen's chef for more and more meat. Mel has always been a meat eater and hates all vegetables, except beets.
About two months ago, Jacob waltzed into the T.V. room exhilarated. I can still remember his words while I watched a Turner movie on channel 25. "Mel is lucky. He will be getting teeth and also a visit from an Eye doctor. And by the way, we are sending him to a better room in the back, much bigger. Sure he will life it. With the smile of a cherub, he left and soon Mel looked upset as he was being uprooted from the first hallway to the back, or Siberia also called the hospice section. He was sent to bed 135 B. ( A week later, Jacob quit.)
As Mel survived the meager food rations, I decided to go to Wells Fargo, by bus and not stage, inside the Von's Supermarket on Beach I placed check number five hundred in my wallet and buses my way to the market.
As most employees of banks, it took her awhile to understand my King's English so she called the store manager, Hector Hernandez for reinforcements. He had been looking out a window of his branch inside the market and when summoned the large bruit lumbered out and cornered me.
"Need to ask a question. Would like to cash this check for my brother Mel who lives inside a nursing home and can't make it here. Would a power of attorney be sufficient to cash the check. also wish to find out if check 7067 is any good." I insisted he replied in writing since no longer do I believe anybody.
"If you become the (POA) Power of Attorney on your brother's Account you will be able to transact on his behalf. If he doesn't have an Account We cannot negotiate anything even though the check is payable to WF."
He left and I walked to the rear for my blood pressure reading. It was high as usual at first, but came down a bit later. I thought about how my relationship wish God had kept me from reacting. I go to the Temple Israel on Warner Avenue.
By the exit and in front of the Pizza concession I felt empowered and called the Royale Pacific at 714 892-4446. Angie the manager who barely understood any English told me to hang on while she called Dr. Edward, owner of the corporation."
" Social Security told us not to issue the check since Mel owes money to them. Also we have returned all his mail to the sender."
"But you know where he lives and it was you who lost his driver's license."
"You can go to Garden Grove's Social Security."
Now you know why I call Edward, Dr. Scrooge. Back in my day, Indian givers were shot for a bounced check, while in England officers sent them to debtors prison until their debt had been paid. But it felt good that I got answers even though I butted heads with one so dump and heartless.
My luck got better when I went to Verizon to return my line phone. These scrooges of the phone world wished members to use their credit cards to pay their bills on line. Also no calls could be made out if you were late in paying. Double billing was prevalent with them. I wiggled them down to $80 from $200 and no doubt I will cost them millions.
With the windy rain pelting me on the way to the Bella Terra, I needed a good shot of Adrenalin to calm my embattled nerves. After a brief sojourn at Whole Foods to down a tuna sandwich and get my barrings I wondered to the Navy Store and treated myself to two pairs of jeans.
It felt proud to have weathered today's storm and let my old pair of Navies to stay inside the trying-out-room. I wished to take advantage of the five dollar movies at the Century Movie House. I had heard about La La Land so I plucked down a bit over five to see the movie. So good was the movie that I hummed the main song while I digested a chicken salad at Costco.
Exhilarated by the cold rain and the great musical I took the bus to my stop at Edris and bought some chow mien for my brother. The slop he was forced to eat just didn't satisfy his palate so this supplement was just what he needed to survive the night.
Bits and Pieces for today: A father cared for two daughters. He gave each a dollar and took them to the candy counter at a movie house. The youngest bought a Hershey Bar with hers, and the oldest kept hers for a rainy day. Who made the best buy?
Friday, January 6, 2017
San Clemente Here I Come
He sits at the bus stop on Pacific Coast Highway, across from the Pacific Shopping Center and the Hyatt Manchester. It is six thirty and the wind shill is 20 degrees. Five layers of clothing have no effect on the Alaskan snow ball, . Another bus arrives and two domestics exit while the driver turns his wheels towards the curb for his fifteen minute rest.
His State Retirement pay checks wait for him at the Carlsbad Post Office. He has picked the checks up at this post office for about five years now. He had learned his lesson well not to trust the banks anymore, ever since a levy removed the wired money that was supposed to be in his account.
George is envious as they wear warm coats and he with a pull-over sweat shirt. At least he wears the beanie he found laying next to a Jack-in-the Box on Beach three months ago. The Beanie keeps his ears and bald head warm. His prayers are answered as the number one bus arrives. After snatching his nap sack from the post he enters and finds an empty seat in the rear of the bus.
Thirty minutes of Alaskan ice has invaded his body. Still he is cold and hopes his body will defrost soon so he can breathe. The bus pursues Balboa Island and Newport Beach. More domestics get on at Magnolia and Brookhurst. He can now wiggle his fingers. He is the only white on the bus. A male domestic enters and sits on the back. He exchanges a few words with another well groomed mustache while sipping some coffee.
The bus makes a left and goes up to the Costa Mesa Fashion Center. It stops at the Newport Transit Station to pick up more domestics -- that is all except one bald black who wears shorts and a tee shirt He holds a attaché case and is muscular in his appearance. The six foot something Muscle takes a seat next to me while more than twenty black pony tails or buns enter.
In the rear it is like an old fashion fandango. Everyone knows each other and their Spanish is spoken fast. You'd think they were celebrating a wedding. The bus ambles back the way it came and continues south on P.C.H. Balboa Bay is to my left but I shun the sun light since it hurts my eyes. I adjust my beanie over an eye to ignore the suns rays.
The bald man wears expensive glasses and his eyes dissect the scene in front of him. He thinks he might be from the East as fifty degrees seems warm to him. Again his eyes dart out the buses window.
Hunger overtakes George while more peal off the bus. From his nap sack he removes a salami sandwich and makes mince meat of it. Unaware of how hungry he is, the removes four eggs and devours each in an instant -even eating the egg shells. No longer does he visit Siberia.
Homes on a hillside tells him Laguna Beach is next. To the left our homes with a view and to my right are bluffs and a beautiful ocean. He can't get over that people wake up with a view of the ocean. The seagulls have a better view.
The bus exits on Broadway and picks up more transit passengers inside a tiny street of little shops. Some buns leave the bus and few board. The bus exits and takes the route back to the main drag. It takes forever to leave Laguna Beach. To the right are volleyball courts with benches on green grasses that overlook the ocean and big bluffs.
Dana Point and the Monarch Bay come into view as the us turns to the left and climbs a hill. It takes a minor detour and charges up to the 5 freeway and enters for one offramp that spills out into San Juan Capistrano. The sun is out in full force while the bus kisses the Ralph's Shopping Center and the D.M.V. It swings around a hill of more homes with a view and travels along the coast highway until Senior Pico comes into view and the Metro Link Station .
The Metro Link Station is his stop. So far not a farthing has he spent on this one hour and twenty minute ride. He has saved nineteen dollars for this trip to Carlsbad. The first long leg is finished and he celebrates that he has made it to his future home, San Clemente.
Mr. Muscles follows him to the only cofffee shop awake at this train stop. His bus to Oceanside will arrive at nine thirty. It is only eight twenty so he cuddles inside the warm coffee shop and forks out a dollar and ninety cents for a small coffee. A young smile works his order
"Wish room for cream?"
'Please do."
Mr. Muscles sit on a stool at the side of the coffee shop. He pours some cream and sugar inside his cup and takes a seat facing the train station. Yes, San Clemente is a good fit, he thinks as the sun hits him.
"Mam there is only one train that comes here now. It is the nine thirty for Oceanside." A middle aged girl wears and flees while a Jesus look-alike waits for the only train. A train of long hair cascades down his back and his face is covered with a well manicured beard. He carries a bag and nap sack"
A bell rings and then the sound of a clang...clang as the train arrives at the deserted train stop. I don't have a ticket since I have never seen a conductor ask for a ticket on the leg to Oceanside. The beaches are small but the heart of San Clemente yearns for me. Miles of rustic hills that carry a walkway tell me it is for me.
It is too early for surfers today, but that is Ok since I sam now warm and cozy by the shores of San Clemente. The Jesus look alike and oh yes, Mr. Muscles board the train too.
His State Retirement pay checks wait for him at the Carlsbad Post Office. He has picked the checks up at this post office for about five years now. He had learned his lesson well not to trust the banks anymore, ever since a levy removed the wired money that was supposed to be in his account.
George is envious as they wear warm coats and he with a pull-over sweat shirt. At least he wears the beanie he found laying next to a Jack-in-the Box on Beach three months ago. The Beanie keeps his ears and bald head warm. His prayers are answered as the number one bus arrives. After snatching his nap sack from the post he enters and finds an empty seat in the rear of the bus.
Thirty minutes of Alaskan ice has invaded his body. Still he is cold and hopes his body will defrost soon so he can breathe. The bus pursues Balboa Island and Newport Beach. More domestics get on at Magnolia and Brookhurst. He can now wiggle his fingers. He is the only white on the bus. A male domestic enters and sits on the back. He exchanges a few words with another well groomed mustache while sipping some coffee.
The bus makes a left and goes up to the Costa Mesa Fashion Center. It stops at the Newport Transit Station to pick up more domestics -- that is all except one bald black who wears shorts and a tee shirt He holds a attaché case and is muscular in his appearance. The six foot something Muscle takes a seat next to me while more than twenty black pony tails or buns enter.
In the rear it is like an old fashion fandango. Everyone knows each other and their Spanish is spoken fast. You'd think they were celebrating a wedding. The bus ambles back the way it came and continues south on P.C.H. Balboa Bay is to my left but I shun the sun light since it hurts my eyes. I adjust my beanie over an eye to ignore the suns rays.
The bald man wears expensive glasses and his eyes dissect the scene in front of him. He thinks he might be from the East as fifty degrees seems warm to him. Again his eyes dart out the buses window.
Hunger overtakes George while more peal off the bus. From his nap sack he removes a salami sandwich and makes mince meat of it. Unaware of how hungry he is, the removes four eggs and devours each in an instant -even eating the egg shells. No longer does he visit Siberia.
Homes on a hillside tells him Laguna Beach is next. To the left our homes with a view and to my right are bluffs and a beautiful ocean. He can't get over that people wake up with a view of the ocean. The seagulls have a better view.
The bus exits on Broadway and picks up more transit passengers inside a tiny street of little shops. Some buns leave the bus and few board. The bus exits and takes the route back to the main drag. It takes forever to leave Laguna Beach. To the right are volleyball courts with benches on green grasses that overlook the ocean and big bluffs.
Dana Point and the Monarch Bay come into view as the us turns to the left and climbs a hill. It takes a minor detour and charges up to the 5 freeway and enters for one offramp that spills out into San Juan Capistrano. The sun is out in full force while the bus kisses the Ralph's Shopping Center and the D.M.V. It swings around a hill of more homes with a view and travels along the coast highway until Senior Pico comes into view and the Metro Link Station .
The Metro Link Station is his stop. So far not a farthing has he spent on this one hour and twenty minute ride. He has saved nineteen dollars for this trip to Carlsbad. The first long leg is finished and he celebrates that he has made it to his future home, San Clemente.
Mr. Muscles follows him to the only cofffee shop awake at this train stop. His bus to Oceanside will arrive at nine thirty. It is only eight twenty so he cuddles inside the warm coffee shop and forks out a dollar and ninety cents for a small coffee. A young smile works his order
"Wish room for cream?"
'Please do."
Mr. Muscles sit on a stool at the side of the coffee shop. He pours some cream and sugar inside his cup and takes a seat facing the train station. Yes, San Clemente is a good fit, he thinks as the sun hits him.
"Mam there is only one train that comes here now. It is the nine thirty for Oceanside." A middle aged girl wears and flees while a Jesus look-alike waits for the only train. A train of long hair cascades down his back and his face is covered with a well manicured beard. He carries a bag and nap sack"
A bell rings and then the sound of a clang...clang as the train arrives at the deserted train stop. I don't have a ticket since I have never seen a conductor ask for a ticket on the leg to Oceanside. The beaches are small but the heart of San Clemente yearns for me. Miles of rustic hills that carry a walkway tell me it is for me.
It is too early for surfers today, but that is Ok since I sam now warm and cozy by the shores of San Clemente. The Jesus look alike and oh yes, Mr. Muscles board the train too.
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