Starbucks, the Gateway to San Diego, Chapter four.

Starbucks is the gateway to San Diego. Tourists, workers and the homeless make up most of the population as the city outgrows its shoes and it is impossible to find parking, with new parking meters funding many programs. It sits on the corner of Kettner and Broadway, a baseball toss to the Santa Fe Station and a few steps to the buses and the trains.
    Today, as usual, I am in the mood for a chocolate drink. It is only five thirty but I am an early bird. .I need to see the morning sun and begin to sing,  Baby It is Cold Outside.  I skip down the steps of  the  YMCA, turn right and walk across India Street. I trip over a few bikes and shopping carts as one is folding her sleeping bag.
    I order a small hot chocolate and take up my roost beside the windows  with a view of the  Bank of America and the many briefcases and yellow helmets that have come from the Coaster trains. A few briefcases enter and get in line. The yellow helmets are beginning to build a new Superior Court building, and almost all are tall and rugged Latinos. A bit of irony, but a block from this new edifice sits a  federal prison made up mostly young Latinos. Heroin and other drugs were there source of income. (We will speak about this building later.) 
    Those who live in Tents on Harbor or Pacific are the first to toilet and buy a drink.  One drink entitles them to all the amenities of this famous coffee shop. Across from me sits General Taylor, or ah he looks like one out of the Civil War.
     General Taylor is tall, bald and has grown well manicured whiskers. The sun's rays reflect off his head   His feet are at least a size fifteen and he dresses immaculately. He wears stylish white sports socks sneak out of his fashionable sandals.  He has three satchels and a lab top. He scrutinizes the many messages on his computer. He looks like he could have been a sailor on the good ship Moby Dick sailing out of Nantucket.

I pamper my hot chocolate and watch the workers, many from across the border, pile on the 992. Thousands enter San Diego each day to work at domestics, cashiers, restaurant helpers, or inside hotels. They are the girders that hold up the stockings of  San Diego. Buses take them to their place of work.
    "Hey, can I bum a cigarette off of you."
     "Not today...try me tomorrow after i get paid....Top of the morning to you."
  Now a multicolored beanie, with flaps comes my way, just after the Escondido bus takes its passengers thirty miles to one of San Diego's first gambling clubs, Harrahs.
     "Hey can I bum a cigarette off of you?"
     "Here is a quarter...Gave up smoking long ago." (Not finished or edited yet. sketch written in 2011.)
   
   
   

A Little Saigon Barber shop

I cashed my state check at Walmart and of course have them print two lump money orders for my rent. I must pay by the third or get an eviction notice plastered on my door. But today I would celebrate life with some good food.
   Atlantic Square is off of Beach and Atlantic, about a half mile from the beach. With a full pocket of  bills, I noticed a bagel shop across the way. Too tired to celebrate, I walked inside and placed my order. It was nine thirty, and I had just left my Sandbox or AA meeting on the beach. I felt upset that the barber shop was closed since it was Monday.
    "Ah...let me see. Have two onion bagels with butter please, and a cup of green tea please."
    "Thank you sir...we will bring the food to you."
   I took up a seat across from a mounted T.V. Air Force One had just landed at the Andrews Air Force base. A large contingent of soldiers waited for Bush's remains to exit the plane....
     "Well thanks a lot."
     I folded one bagel and crunch it in my toothless mouth until the food became soft and ready to swallow. Back at the T.V., his sons left the plane and several canons went off. I thought how well he had served his county and the stature and humility of the man. An ugly thought crossed my mine. Would are so-called leader show up and give one of his speeches today or simply see how he has put the world at attention waiting for his next move. The two bagels did what they were supposed to do, quiet my stomach. The 29 A bus now took me to the Bella Terra shopping center.
      I bought a bag of local farmers market tangerines...one ninety nine a pound and worth every penny. I sat by the corner window and knew the juice from these little ovals would calm my nerves- and they did. At about eleven, slim, attractive body pants entered, one even winked at me but without teeth, i only nodded a thank you.

But let me cut to the chase. I still needed a hair cut besides some teeth. Vaguely, I remembered a strip  mall off of Garfield and Magnolia. I got off the #33 and walked across Garfield  There was a hair and nail salon, a tailor's store, a catering business and finally a barber shop. I entered and saw one solitary Asian lady.
    "Ah...Do you cut hair?"
     "Yes I do." Not only did she understand English but possessed a warm friendly smile.
     "How much do you charge for an old man?"
     "Ten dollars."
      "Do you wish regular cut."
      "What about a trim...or just do it your way."
       Below the wall mirror swam two cramped Gold Fish Ornamental flowers too perched under the window  The lady wore a perpetual smile and engaged me in conversation. I must admit the way she used her hands woke up something i had missed for a long time.
       " I only cut men's hair...Women talk too much.."
        "Charlotte, were you one of the boat people from Vietnam?
        "Yes..went to Malaysia first, then to Philippines for two month, long enough to learn English and then Texas. I did not wish to be a barber because women talk to much. My girl friend told me to cut men's hair so I did...
        The mirror told me that she possessed a cute face. Her hands worked as if on auto pilot. My head began to be shaped the way i wanted. In fact, I began to look handsome. I felt totally relaxed inside of Charlotte's Web-got it?
         "I took fifty hours of training at a Barber's College in Texas, and I almost quit when my friend told me to cut men's hair. I pride myself in being the best barber in Surf City."  She told me little things about Little Saigon as she magically stroked my neck and put coconut bream on top of my dry head.
         'Never buy can products or meat at a Vietnamese market. And if you wish fresh and cheap chicken go to the market on Bolsa and Beach early in the morning. You pick the chicken and they wrap it up.. Charlotte began to massage my scalp as she told me that she can make the best chicken broth in the land.
          'Hey Charlotte, I am interested in marrying a Vietnamese girl. Let me know if any are interested?" ...
          It must have been the longest haircut I ever got. Why even my second daughter didn't recognize her handsome dad a week later.
         
         
   

A Car for Mel

A bot tired, I exit the #29 and cross Garfield. I wonder if the corner eatery has put on a new urinal. We old timers never wish to be too far from a bathroom, particularly after drinking sodas. The car wash is busy. Each expensive model has one man smoothing out any water spots or anything else. A Lexus, Caddie, and brand new Chevy SUV is being given a once over.
    The owners pay thirty dollars for these expert cleaners. No spot goes unnoticed  The Huntington Car wash can't be missed. It is on the corner of Beach and Garfield. Like a barber shop, the customer may order a smooth, a decal, or just a rub. Every car smiles on the way out.
    The owners sit quietly, dong nothing but waiting. Signifying they are made of money, they have been giving their cars a shower for up-teen years now. In fact, the only thing that have saved their long marriage has been to distant themselves from their overbearing wives.
     I am glad not to be subservient to some brand new car. My time is valuable so  I continue straight on Garfield until I get to Florida Street and turn right. My nap sack feels a bit heavier now. Finally I get to 18811 Florida Street and open the door. I am going on my third year now, and perhaps if Mel had been given better care at the Pacific Spartan Assistant living, he never would have had to be sent here. Among other  ailments, Mel has had a inner ear cancer for more than two years. He is not only clean of cancer, but is content once again.  I hand two beets and one corn to the kitchen and do my best this added food won't get lost.
    "Oh hi Kelly, happy Thanksgiving to you You look great...lost of few pounds eh?...Did you remember to give Mel his spaghetti." Kelly is tall, trim, and a effervescent smile...so what if she is part cross-eyed. Nobody is perfect,yes?
     "Made it myself...three times for your brother...Nice to see you...By...Got to run.."
   
Mel is inside a hospice area, room 135 B. He has just been given a bath by his warm caring assistant maintenance nurse Mel sits up and greets me. In bed one is Jeffery, a nice chap of eighty five who enjoys listening in. He is large and immobile. His smile is infectious .
   "Did you see that game...Ram won 54-51." Mel looks trim and happy, and why not, after a long bath. Shit maybe I would love a long bath every other day. Never have I seen my brother Mel any happier in the last year or two.
   "Are you using the walker Mel?"
    "Yes, every day...And my sugar count is normal. 135... How is Linda?...You told me she has a car. Did she return to her job."
     "Not yet...The baby is getting all the attention "
    "What happened to all the furniture on our old house in Beverly Wood."
    "Well, Mel, gave everything including cars to our sister Polly. But dig get all the photos. Anyhow, those are only things but I got the memories
     "Do you wish any steaks Mel?"
      "No, but would love one of Derik's Turkey and hope we get a car." 
  I left Mel exhausted but happy he now is content and walking. After a quick meal at Panda Express and a stop at the dollar, and goodwill store, I made it to the beach stop on Main and Beach. I felt exhausted, yet after I climbed aboard the next stop energized me...and how!
   An Asian holding a seat walker climbed aboard with stuff in bags on the two seat walker. She looked trim and certainly Asian, but with higher cheek bones and large face. She did not look a day over thirty. She pulled the rip cord signalling her stop was next."
    "No, no make mistake. Not this stop the one..."
     "You mean the one on Edinger?"
     "Tank you, wish to buy a pizza...am hungy..."
      "Are you Vietnamese?"
      "No Buddha."
      "Bet you are no more than forty"
       "Sisty five...We Asians luk younger than you. We don't age
    The bus turned and I left the pretty one sorry i did not own a car or dentures yet...yet

                            A Car for Mel 
                   Sea Cliff Health Center
                   188811 Florida Street 
                   Huntington Beach, 92648 Cal (Bed 135 B) 
                   Make checks out to me, George Garrett in care of Mel, 
                    Happy Thanksgiving  
                     

                                       




     
   
   
"
 
 

Lindbergh Field , San Diego Part 2

I have always been fond of Urinals.
    The story I enjoyed writing the most was about a urinal inside of  inside Lindbergh Field, now called San Diego International Airport . 
   As an asthmatic all of my life, pure air and clean urinals have been a must for me. The 992 bus comes every fifteen minutes and stops on the corner of Kettner, next to Starbucks and across the street from Bank of Mex-America. Those who cross the border, illegally or not, have chosen this bank since it is slice of America and the tellers speak only Spanish. 
   I sit in my birds eye seat at Starbucks. Outside are shopping carts, bikes, and trash bags filled with cans and bottles. The Blue Line Trolley has just arrived and several passengers from Mexico enter. Many have permits to work as waiters, cooks, baggage handlers, and domestics. 
   At the bus stop everyone rises as the bus has just arrived. I my mocha, hitch on my knapsack and run to the stop. I tap my $42 compass card and find a seat.  The bus continues on Broadway till Harbor and makes a right turn. To the South pier is moored the Midway Aircraft Carrier and the famous fish restaurant. 
   I just love buses The Harbor lights are the most beautiful at the crack of dawn. We pass a cruise ship dock, Anthony's Fish Grotto, and the steamship Berkeley and the old galleon, the Star of India, built in Bristol, England over one hundred years ago. After leaving the head quarters of the Coast Guard, the bus stops at Terminal One and then Two. 
   "Gracias, Buenos Dias. " 
   The bus driver nods as the Airport employees descend. After I get off at Terminal Two, I take the escalator to the second floor. The fresh pure air makes my legs sings with excitement. I order the usual breakfast at Le Salsa and buy a ninety cent senior coffee at Mac Donald's. 
    

The Pittsburgh Eleven

"Who me?" 
 "Yes!" What is your Dad's Hebrew name?
  "A...a...a...Hershel." 
   Unsteadily I approached the Torah. The Rabbi smiled and shook my hand. To my left stood the rabbi. He smiled and shook my hand. The little man with whiskers, wearing the colors of the orthodox black began with my help to open the holy book. I took a string from my prayer shawl and touched the silver pointer of  the Rabbi Aron Berkowitz. Her reads several paragraphs as I try to follow. Then I read the morning prayer from a sheet in front of me.
    It is Saturday the third of November. I feel chipper today since I dropped off a cashiers check to the office of my apartment. Chabad of Huntington Beach is off of Warner, a block east of Bolsa Chica. I had taken up my seat at about ten o'clock. There area about eleven worshipers in attendance. 
    Afterwards, a take a deep breath it is over, but not quite. The Gabbi looks my way. 
     "Who would you like to pray for, Ben Hershel?"
      "You" I react without thinking.? 
       "No not you!" Something turns me to the congregation. The words fumble out of my mouth. A tear empties on my shirt. 
     I pray that the friends. sons, daughters of the Pittsburgh Eleven. I pray that soon the anger with its resentments will Make our nation stronger.  
      I thought about my own daughters and how I would feel.  My oldest daughter never fails to tell me that she is always shocked as to whatever comes out of my mouth, and usually has to blush. But this time I must have hit a chord, the right one. This congregation understands a little English so the Gabbi needed to translate for me. Rabbi Aron was at his best today as he spoke about the burial of Sarah. It was one of his best talks.
    "Sarah lived to be 127 years old and her husband traveled to Hebron to make a deal with the its king, Ephiron. Abraham wished to part with a money in exchange for land next to Hebron. 
     "No, you and your family are one of us. Just take it. I don't wish your money." 
      Abraham was a man of few words. He paused and then demanded that he should make some payment. Abe was no stupid. He knew it would not be a contract without  a sum of money. The King thought for a few moments and then asked for 400 pieces of gold. Abraham without so much as a pause gave him the 400 pieces. 
      "You see that Abe had an eye for the truth whereas the King dwelt with things and property. Abe, several years later joined his wife." 

Several people spoke to me during the kiddish. Of course what comes from the heart is more real that a contrived speech. 


Nuts and Bots for Today:  Stand tall and never give up any ground.  

   

San Diego Diary Part 2

I somehow survived my first night at the "Y" in downtown San Diego. It felt great to have a roof over my head and lucky that General Cartwright thought that I was another Section Eight. I needed to come up with $1,200 including the four hundred dollar security deposit. It was August of 1911.
   Since our small cells did not include a toilet, I used a Minute Maid  orange juice container at night for my bladder.  Of course at times  I had accidents that made the industrial carpet damp in the morning. I did have a small fridge in the corner next to a desk with a telephone. I felt lucky.
    Some of my retirement check went to a family member so that the $200 owed to the Encinitas Quality Inn needed to be paid, which I did. Again it felt great to have a roof over my head and a manager who greeted me with a smile and fresh cologne each morning. I just loved General Cartwright.
     "Mr. Garrett, you can get fresh towels each day and help yourself to the fresh coffee we prepare each morning. And we clean your room each week. Let me know if you need anything."
      His real smile and his smell gave a luster to my day. To this day, i wonder what type of cologne he wore. He waltzed into the lobby wearing a well pressed suit. Why I might have thought that he shopped at Macy's. His shoes sparkled as if they were polished by some master shoeshine maker 
      Still with cobwebs in my head ever since I lived inside my little Chevy, It took a while to give up the stars for a real, yes a real roof, and no more sleeping in my car. I had just over one hundred dollars left that first month in August, but it would have to do. I remembered Anthony's Fish on the Harbor. My ex-girl friend introduced me to the famous fish house when she still enjoyed my company.

By far the joint I learned to love most of all was Starbucks, about a block west down Broadway. After a shower and shave, I left room 204 on the second floor and began to descend the..
   ."Hi Mr. Cartwright, nice to see you." He was scrubbing  the rails of the staircase. . In fact much later on, I learned that he had a need for cleanliness. Everything needed to be polished. I walked across the Southern Pacific rails and continued on Broadway till I  got to Harbor where I turned right. After a cruise line pier Anthony's loomed up.
      "Can I have some English chowder."
       ""Do you want anything else?...Your number is 21, thank you."
     Sea Gulls ;pulled up a chair next to me.  The smell of the clams and little breads must have signaled it was dinner time for them. I noticed a drink machine across the way so to save money, i asked a server for an empty cup.
      With the sun from eleven o'clock hitting me in the head, I felt juiced up. Yes, alive for the first time in months, I thanked God for this little fling with the cup of chowder It was great to have been joined by these gorgeous birds of God. I threw little pieces of fries there way. A few were so adept to catching them on the fly they could have played center field for the Dodgers.
      I must have stayed there for hours, in fact I lost track of time. A little later, a few homeless ones entered the bathroom. As San Diego had no public restrooms, I felt gratified that they had a place to wash and clean their clothes. Inside the Harbor were a few fishing boats and a coast guard cutter. Later I found out that the Coast Guard Headquarters was about a half  down.
     At about noon, I walked across Harbor and made my way to the then  Holiday Inn. I grabbed a mint and a free U.S. Today paper from the lobby and lounged on a sofa. Yes, I certainly felt alive myf first day in San Diego.

Santa Monica's Hot Dog on a Stick

It is a foggy day in Santa Monica Beach. The birds are rolling everywhere. The scooters have taken over the strand. I sit next to the famous Hot Dog on a Stick. In front of the bench are the volleyball courts, and to the south is the Fire Station. It is going on Ten o'clock. The saxophone player is setting up while I removed myself from reality. Karen has taken Li'l Nell for a stroll. At two years old, she needs a nap or else hell will break loose
   I am one of the few left who had played volleyball into the eighties and nineties. can';t remember having such a time as my buddies, Bobby Barber, "Spider", "Bud' and others. A dollar and change was all I needed for a lemon drink then. Out of the corner of my eye I spot Karen and spot the eyes of my grand daughter Nell. Nell runs away from the Stroller and straws a sip out of my small cup. It is her first drinking lemonade but I can assure you it won't be her last.
   The sax player has a good audience who show their pleasure by placing a bill into the box. He is professional. Nell begins to dance, with a wiggle there and a foot there. Music charms her the same way it does a cobra to the sound of a flute. She dances with her Micky doll and as always, many gaze at the rhythm of the twenty-month-year-old.
     She spots the sand and as quick as one can blink an eye throws her body into it. She watches some volleyball with four on each team. She loves to play ball. She spots me I sit on the old wooden bleachers. She follows. A few harmless homeless share the wood with me but who cares I hear a loud voice that scares a few pigeons from the remains of a hot dog.
      "Get her away from the trash...She'll bet germs."
       I don't react but do grab Nell and retreat her to the sand. She is up again and this time to a large cement fish on a small incline park. It is dangerous as she might just fall. Her cries are muffled by the sight of the Merry-Go-Round.   Nell is petrified of the real life looking wooden horses. I pay three dollars for tickets, two for adults and one for children
        Karen decides to place Nell on a a horse that is glued to the ground. Nell sits on her lap as the horses go round and around, round and around to music. Nell, this time doesn't cry as a standing does not move. It is the movement that scares Nell.
        Nell lives in her own world and tries to do everything an adult can do. No longer a baby, she fears the fire trucks, the backfires of cycles, but still takes chances. We stroll over to the Third Street Mall. Each entertainer has an hour to perform. The good entertainers can make out a daily living as the sax player.
        Entranced by the sound of drums. She stops to play a few percussion instruments. A new store is opening and she sees some pails and stickers as a promotion. She plays there for a few minutes before both Karen and I decide to leave.
         The number seven takes us home and as you can guess it. She falls fast asleep all the way home as the wheels on the bus go round and round as it puffs away from each station. She is still fast asleep as we stroll up Bagley to her Mom's home.


Nuts and Bolts for Today: Success comes before work only in the dictionary

Seventh Street Starbucks

Starbucks off Seventh Street begins my day to downtown Los Angeles. From where route Sixty Six ends at the Santa Monica Pier I now arrived at the other end on Seventh Street.
   After a trip from West Los Angeles to Western on the Rapid Blue bus, I paid for a ride on the underground Blue Line Train for Downtown Los Angeles, by loading the card for my seventy cent trip to Seventh Street.
    As usual a heavy stench told me that a homeless one slept across two seats. Countless home in on the Long Beach Blue line without buying any ticket Never are there any police on board for a good reason...they might be killed dong their job.
    "Next stop Vermont Station." My stop on Seventh was next.
     "This stop is Seventh Street. You may transfer to the Exp line or Long Beach line at this station."
    Now on Seventh, I walked west towards Figueroa towards the brand new skyscraper the Korea towers. The bikes in the racks slept as nobody in their right mind will ride a bike downtown. What a waste of money.I sat inside Starbucks savoring each sip of my green tea.
    Just too bad I looked eighty today. Wish my body could be young again like my mind. Nobody paid attention to this old one. Why I had even cut my hair...Wonder how much these men pay for their leather shoes.
    The one rest room was out of order  Of course unlike Santa Monica, Los Angeles can't afford any public restrooms. I took my tea outside and sat by the table. The Santa Ana winds had subsided and it was clear with a just a little chill in the air. I felt invigorated
     It is great to watch the hustle and bustle of these workers Across from me and the Bank of America it read nine o'clock. My stomach spoke. "George, time to get to the 85 store bakery for some delicious treats." I took care of my bladder problem in a inconspicuous way and walked up Seventh two blocks to Hope Street. Another two blocks and not far from where Hope stops at the Central Library I smelled my quarry.
    Inside the glass menagerie was large assortment of muffins, cakes and rolls. Each baked goods was enclosed inside a clean bright glass unit. I took my tongs and selected two chocolate croissants. I had no idea how much the Asians love these treats. I paid a few dollars for my treats and took up a seat in that fronted on Hope Street. Outside a truck pulled up hooked to a wagon that pulled an aluminum stoves.   I took my time with these cakes. I did not need to bite into them...And anyway, I don't have teeth. Each sweet morsel evaporated inside my mouth. I have never tasted anything so tasty.
   I am lucky to be alive to appreciate life like no other.What a shame my eighty year old mind can't share it with a thirty year old body.



Nuts a bolts for today. Your bank account may be empty, but your mind might be richer than anything held in any bank.
   
   
     

Teh Santa Monica Stand

The bench sits between the Hot Dog and a Stick  and Deans Bar and Grill  In front of me to the south of the pier are the volleyball courts that gave me a new life over twenty years ago.  From the northwest the Malibu winds kick in to remove the dirt and grime from the exhausts of automobiles while  the last of the fog pushes west.
   It is ten o'clock and quiet at the old Muscle Beach. A guitar player assembles speakers and removes his guitar. He has played jazz there for many years. A few scooters skate buy. Slowly these birdies are removing bikes and skateboards from the strand. In the forties, trams ran back and forth from Venice to Santa Monica Beach.
   The cold fog has lifted and so too my spirits. Just like in 1989, the sun, volleyball and laughter ushered in a new life. I walk towards the pier and sit on the old wooden bleachers. I remove my jacket and shirt and allow the rays to massage my body. Courting six on each side, two games are going on. After several minutes I descend and return to the bench.
    "Is that you George?" from the bench I hear a familiar friendly noise. I barely make out the image as my left eye is overdo for cataract surgery.Slowly and image appears.
    "Arnold, so nice to see you."
     "Missed you George. Not too many of us still around.
     "Visiting a friend in West Los Angles. I am the Godfather of Connie's grandchild Nell. How has your health bin "
      "Just got over a sever ear problem  Now taking medication for it. Makes me dried but no longer suffer. Wife has her ailments too. Lost my oldest brother a few months ago. Died at ninety seven taking care of his wife...You know George, as we live longer, we now take pills to do what our body sued to do."
       At 83, Arnold looks younger than ever. Its great to reflect on the good times I had at the pier for many years before I moved to San Diego. His brother was a regular here and died of a brain tumor about sixteen years ago. The electrical genius is a transplant from New Jersey who fell in love with Santa Monica as far back to the fifties. Since I have albums of Santa Monica that go back to the forties, I ask him about these beaches.
      "Well George, when I was here in the fifties, they dredged the area in front of you and built break water to keep the sand in place...Over there was the old Chase Hotel. It stood in front of the platform where muscle beach got its name...Jack La Lane, Marilyn Monroe, Jane Russel, and Mansfield used gravitate here to the beach."
       "How well did you know Bobby Barber?...Didn't  he begin volleyball here in the forties."
        "Hell no. I spoke to people from another generation and volleyball had been going on for a long time..We had no problems here as promiscuity and muscle building went hand in hand...We had a shack and for a few cents, one could have a ball. No such thing as the Me Too here. The wrestlers has a great time here."
         "Got to go now, and see you again real soon. Lookin to moving here."
      I began to walk north, and go to the bridge that connects the Palisades with the strand when...
          "Is...that...really you George..."
          Bill was covered from head to toe with fabric. Wearing a wide brim hat, he stops his bike and homes in on me.  He worked as a life guard here after semi pro football. He was tall, lean, and muscular.
           "You look just great Bill. How the wife?...have a picture of her?"
           "No, George...crime is rampant in Santa Monica. Don't carry a wallet or keys anymore...Just had a knee replacement and do for shoulder surgery."
            "Will never forget your serves. The sky balls were impossible to judge when the ball came down." Instead of a booming serve just over the net, he overhanded it up into the sky where the wind took over and made it hard to corral."
            "Some of the players play in front of Ocean Beach or Mother's."
        By now I felt a little dizzy as i needed a shade. I said my good-by and gave him my card.
            "Tell my buddies to call me at this number?"
      At eleven the day had just begun  I walked my way over the bridge and found my way to the third street mall. Many thought it might rain again so not too many people on the Third Street Promenade.
Next to the theater was an Italian eatery. I ordered spaghetti and meatballs. She gave me a number and a cup.
       I drank three cups of water and took up my seat. My food came and I can't think when I enjoyed a meat ball so much. A singer sang some Jewish songs and I felt in bliss. (More to come..)

   Nuts and bolts today:  The Surf City Air Show begins Friday. It is worth showing up. Parking is limited. Can take the number one or 29 bus to get close and walk the rest of the way.


       
     
     
   

Surf City's Number One Barber Shop

Today I needed a lift. As always it is hard to sleep as the invisible poisonous gas pour into my room via the AC.  I took a sleeping pill to quell evil thoughts and put  myself into a deep slumber  In the morning, I thought about getting a filter for the matchbox mildew Beach Nut Apartments. Surrounded by fir trees. it is dangerous to walk outside during a hefty wind - as the pollen can be seen everywhere. It is terrifying when death is one breath-away.  
   Lander's Barber shop, to the northwest corner of the Bella Terra Shopping Center would be my first stop today. The number 70 dropped me off a block from the railroad tracks and I crossed Gothard and made my way to the Barber shop. It felt good to move my legs and when I entered Jack was waiting for me. I took a quick toilet break and sat down. 
   "Jake, your my man. Do what you please. I don't need mirrors as never received a bad cut here. your pickle barrel is one cut above the rest." 
   "Well sir, I will do my best."
    "A girl friend of mine used to call me Robert Redford. but I thought Cathy was wrong. In 1971, I was a lot better looking...Of course he knew how to handle a lady then, I I didn't.  While he went to work, I sat back, and like on a bus, let surgeon do his job. A grey-hair unruly hair sat next to me. he told the head man to "Give me the works." 
   Where you from Jake? 
   Yucaipa, about a one hour and twenty minute drive from here Next to Bernadino. 
    Kiddin me. Why would anyone live so far. 
    Love to ride my cycle and listen to favorite POD. Besides we have a baby that make it hard to relax. Wife works as a manager of Trader Joes in Belmont. 
 I turned and saw a distinguished grey hair next to me Why he got a million dollar haircut. 
   "Sir, you look so good that you could run for the White House in Two Years."
   "Hell no. The elephant in office has soiled the office of the presidency." The head barber laughed. 
   "The jerk does not know when to keep his trap shut. Just put him in this chair and I will cut his tongue out.
   "Do you wish your eye brows cut?" I nodded yes 
    "That will be thirteen dollars."
    "Have change for hundred"

      Top of the word now,  I walked across the court yard to Huntington Beach's Farmers market. I picked out a few grapes and they tasted juicy, more juicy tan the $2.40 variety at Whole Foods and a lot better than the sour ones at Ralph's. A Haas avocado for ninety and four juicy plumbs for ninety cents, corn and several dates topped my basket. All for Five Dollars and sixty six cents .
      The day had just begun. The number 70 bused me to the Transit Station and across the street was Costco. One hour later I was dipping my one dollar hot dog in relish, mustard and gobs of butter It felt great to die eating my favorite after a stop at America's Favorite Barber Shop. 


    

    
    
     
    
    

A Sunday in Santa Monica

I needed to cradle the day. It took six buses and two trains to get to my friend, Connie Glickman. The Blue Seven off at fourth and Broadway. This would be my day to enjoy the sun in Santa Monica Beach.
    As I was looking for a room in Santa Monica or Malibu. A crowd of seniors crowded the stop. A lady smiled as I asked why the occasion.
    "Going to the Kellogg House in Pomona. Waiting for a bus."
     "Thanks. Here to look for an apartment in Santa Monica...There is so much mildew in my apartment that breathing is difficult."
     "Perhaps the Salvation can lead you in the right direction...It is next to the Edwards building and down this alley."I thanked her and continued south towards Colorado Street, across from the Expo Line  crossed the street and walked west towards the ocean. 
    The northwesterly winds gave the air a pure and vibrant quality. But first,  I needed to go for breakfast at Mac Donald's  on Colorado a block from P.C.H. I ordered the Deluxe that included hash brown, pancakes and English muffins. It cost five and change.
    The restrooms were clean and when my number was called I picked up my tray and took a clean yellow plastic seat. From my back pack I pulled out Mr. Trotsky and began to read his biography. My empty stomach growled with excitement as each bite slid effortlessly to my stomach. The feast was over in a flash. (Trotsky wrote War and Peace.)
    A burnt faces to go with their mangled hair walked in and out, filling their cups with soda.  A few burnt toasted slid into the rest rooms. It felt good to know that Santa Monica took care of its homeless, and the only city that has two or three free public restrooms. But my Beach, Old Muscle Beach was calling me.
    I waked past the Lobster to the pier. The Merry-Go-Round to my left was asleep. Since they are made of wood, they don't eat hay. I crossed over to the board walk, now made of cement and sat on a bench. In front of me was the amphitheater of volleyball, where two man volleyball had its beginning. The sun kissed me and I allowed it. A well-dressed old timer walked in my direction.
    "May I ask you if you are a regular here?'
    "Yes...name Bob...been here since 1976...from New Jersey.I own the bike shop."
     Nice to meet you. Played some volleyball with the best in the nineties...Did you know Bobby Barber? 
     Sure did...his bathing suit store was on the corner...Also knew the Hot Dog and a Stick man.
      I met him too in at the Date Harvest one summer in the Palm Springs area..Did you know Sheriff Paul?
      My best friends. Me and Sheriff rode biked down the strand together...Looks like we are the last of these to be alive.
    Bob left to help out at the bike store as a bevy of Birds, skated by.
    I took off my shoes and walked to the wooden bleachers, that faced south into the teeth of the sun. bleachers. An event was being set up on the pier. I removed my shirt and felt sad that the days on the original Muscle Beach were over...but not quite.
     
   
   

Surf City Food Bank

"Numbers 19 and 23...Come on up!"

Yes this is a lotto, but not one that you might expect. Mainly Vietnamese, this is how they save each month to live free of charge with the blessings of the Refuge in Huntington Beach. 
  There is about fifty five that showed up today at the tabernacle across from Bella Terra and next to Chase Bank, it is where the boat people of Vietnam hawk as much grub as they can muster inside their shopping bags. 
   At the advise of a bus sitter who like me, can only make ends meet advised me to go to the Food Bank when my Frig is empty.  Monday and Tuesday's at the Refuge, markets like Whole Foods and Ralph's dole out food that has expired...i got lucky a week ago and grabbed a fifteen dollar fruit salad of some choice strawberries, raspberries, that lasted me one week. 
   The food is laid out on several long tables. The lotto begins at two o'lock and each is provided with a number. Each is provided with a number when reaching the church. Today my number is 37 and I just can't wait too long since I have an appointment to see my brother at the Sea Cliff Health Center. 
   "Numbers 10 and 47...step right up!"
  Two more boat people smile as they carry their empty bags that will be laden with all types of food. I no longer can wait. Besides, I have a few more green backs back at my ranch. 
   I am thinking about looking for a Vietnamese to become my wife. I just love rice and noodles and anything extra, well I won't write home about it.
   I must see my brother Mel and know I will see my little buddies tomorrow on the number 33 bus. I hand my number to a talkative one and leave for the bus. 
   Oh yes. My favorite market is the Farmers's or green Vietnamese Market. 

  

Another Day in Surf City

It was a bit cold, but not too cold while I waited for the #33 bus. In back of me was the Sub and Pacific Bank, with Home Depot to my back and a little right of me. I was dark, real dark and I took a flash light so the bus could see me. Inside my nap sack I packed three drum sticks, potato slices and an orange.
   The Green Farmer's market is within my budget. Two pounds of Norwegian Mackerel cost three and change, two large juicy oranges 75 cents, two pounds of drumsticks $1.23 and fresh red lettuce $75 cents. I had grilled the drumsticks and places three left-overs inside my sack.
    The bus arrived and I placed a dollar into a slot and dropped two quarters into the change department. The bus driver placed a ticket into a slot and I took the all-day pass when it shot back up from the machine. The bus, as always, was filled by the boat people, many from Westminster. Like the bus driver, they hate white people who had entered their country and caused the death of their loved ones.
     The war in Vietnam was none of our business and it was one war that we lost. On the bus sat about thirty ladies and three men. These were the lucky ones that General Gap did not kill as he invaded South Vietnam. They were lucky to have embarked from Saigon just as the  Communists invaded their country.
     I heard a lot of high pitched excited noise when entering the bus. The bus was filled with the boat people who had escaped Vietnam after the war and made it to Southern California and Camp Pendl he General Giaboat people as always joi I looked up and saw the cutest sight in the land. I have never seen a race of people so happy. Not a sad face in the bunch. A few removed their flip flops displaying clean feet with no nail polish on their toes   None wore makeup since they don't have to. They had learned to enjoy each day to the fullest. Smart to run early by the waters edge before the toxic air becomes alive.
     They live for the most part in their little hamlet of Westminster, just inside of Surp City. Their are almost 200,000 of these happy faces.
    The bus continued on Magnolia passing Adams and then Edison High School. Not one unhappy on the faces of these boat people. They knew how to row their boats to the promised land, Huntington Beach. As mentioned before, they could have been cast from the same mold.
    The bus now crossed P.C.H. and stopped at the round-about stop at the large parking lot. They looked to be in a hurry to get on with the day. No smart phones in the lot, they mounted a charge to the lifeguard tire and did their exercises. A smaller number walked east and to the bus stop going east towards New Port beach, Dana Point and finally its last stop, San Clemente. 

 The last to leave bus, I placed my nap sack over my shoulders and walked west on the cement strand strand. The fresh smell of the salt water quickened my steps. A few surfers rubbed their boards with was preparing their woods for the ocean. They locked their vans and ran towards the ocean. It made me shiver a bit even though they wore wet suits.
  After awhile, I smiled with the knowledge that my fight to replace my tarnished life with a special varnish. I began to feel like a two year old, when it was OK to laugh, cry or sleep to my hearts content
   To my left were several tents and sleeping bags on the beach. It appeared that the police allowed them to sleep on the beach. To my right a young gal began to pass me. I thought my walk was fast but I guess that her strides were a bit longer than mine. Soon, she would be only a dot on the horizon
    After about two miles, I decided to stop and read notes from a journal against a small concrete barrier. To my left a tent began to wiggle. i removed my journal glad that I was on sand and not the water
    At about seven thirty, I continued my walk towards the Slurp City Pier. Just south of the Hilton I saw some folding chairs being set up for my A.A. meeting. Just like a kid playing in the sand, this large group meeting is my sand box and has done wonders for shine I would place on my mind today.

George's San Diego, Part 1

As they say in Real Estate, when buying a house, it is location, location and location. And so it was for me in the year of 1911. I needed a change, and the three years of living in San Diego afforded me a new one.
   The Quality Inn housed me for one month in May of 2011 in the city of Carlsbad  I had a plush mattress, a walk in shower and a frig to keep food fresh  I rented the room for about one month and with the room came a breakfast in the lobby. I had a choice of three different cereals, bacon, eggs and bagels. I particularly enjoyed the freshly squeezed orange juice and bananas and apples.
   The train station was bout one mile away and towards the beach. My $42 dollar monthly senior pass gave me the rights to see San Diego every day, via their Coaster Train. A fog would lift as soon as the train entered the new Santa Fe Station built in 1924. The station is in a plaza area with Mexican tiles and fountain in the middle. And wow what a beautiful view of the Harbor and skyline of Miss San Diego.
   I must of walked a thousand miles in San Diego and for an old man like me, I needed a toilet now and then with now often a priority. A block east of the station is the old Army and Navy building now called the Y.M.C.A. It was there that I met Mr. Cartwright inside the lobby of said four story hotel. I had left the food court at the Superior Court building and needed to bathroom since this food court does not own one.
   I discovered it was a friendly hotel and allowed the homeless off the street to take care of business, if you know what I mean. The two stalled bathroom just next to a baggage holding area smelled like a passenger ship with the toilets stopped up. On leaving my stall, a smell overtook me. There was a hand, a shiny black one and an aroma that could have been used in the best brothel in the land. That was when I met Mr. Cartwright. Now I must admit that I looked rather rough around the edges -- in fact even the edges were worn. With a slim budget, a barber did not fit my budge then. His marble eyes looked me over once or twice. In fact I thought they had left their socket
   "You lookin for a place to stay..."
   "Well I a..."
    "Just you fill out this application...and turn it in. We have three rooms on the 2nd floor and look forward to having you stay here."
    It was his heavy cologne..so heavy it smelled like perfume. His eye balls almost left their sockets while his hands shook mine. Just couldn't help but notice that his nails were polished and clipped so evenly.
    I did not know then but this 1924 brick buildings location was across from two Broadway banks and next to a Starbucks on the corner. A bustling Seven Eleven was on C street on the corner. I crossed India Street and Kettner on my way to the Santa Fe Train Station.

Three trains share the track of this station. Amtrak and the Union Pacific roll on tracks two and three. My monthly senior pass was worth every dollar as the train lurched forward and made it way to Old Town San Diego. The local commuter train made about five stops and I descended in Encinitas where I had parked my car.
    Each train station has a parking lot for those commuters who wish to park and ride. There is no charge to park. I left for the Quality Inn, across from the Motel Six. From a dish inside the lobby I grabbed an apple and paid the $200 or there-about that I owed. I fixed a slow leak in my right back tire from a auto shop went to bed.
    I received a call from the Y that my application had been accepted. Mr. Medina told me that my room was ready for me. My clothes packed into my compact Chevy, I was off to San Diego the next morning. I found a place to park on India Street and walked across Broadway to the Y. I felt exhausted and hungry.
    Mr. Cartwright was in the lobby. The housing authority needed my last pay check to make sure that to know what to charge me for a HUD room. I panicked since I did not have my last pay stub or so I thought. It dawned on me that I may have just left my last retirement check pay stub in my brief case under the passenger seat.
    Mad as hell, I returned to my car on a cul-de-sac" street called India Street. The stub was there and when I returned Cartwright wished to make sure of my annual income. I needed to make a call for the state to fax a sheet to verify 
 my income.
    Mr. Cartwright told me to return an hour later and number 204 would be mine. It was about eight fifty a month for the room and a security deposit of $400. I was left with only two hundred for the month for gas, and food.
     I needed to eat something or I would drop dead. A year earlier, my then girl friend took me to Anthony's grotto off the Harbor. After the chips and chow main, my body came alive again. A few sea gulls flew down and whispered in my ear.
    "Hey Mr. Chips, throw me a few my way."
     I fell in love with the seagulls and what is a wharf without seagulls and fish. Sail boats, the coast guard and other craft raced in the water To my right was the airport and across from me was Shelter Island.

  Mr. Medina gave me key card. It opened the door for me. Every-so-often I heard a door slam. There was no cushion to slow the blow. When night time came, I heard what sounded like an elephant in the next room. The noises last through the night 

Gratitude was on my Bucket List

Gratitude is how I felt when Armando placed the 28 hundred dollars on the Walmart table. I use Walmart to cash my state check and  to electronically pay my utility bills.
    It is only a couple of miles from Garfield to Atlantic and the Walmart shopping center. A upside down trash can kept me company at about eight o'clock. I had walked down Garfield the two miles to the bus stop. With only 27 cents to my name I asked God to get me there and have my check cashed. My stomach hungered for more the hot dogs and beans.
   While in a trance, the bus pulled up. An effervescent smile said "Hello", and I said the same to the wonderful charming lady. The smile lifted my day as it pushed on to Atlantic and Walmart, the store that cashes my teachers state checks.
    I turned left and went to the customer section. Another smile greeted me. He took my check and drivers license and fumbled around with a small keyboard. I placed my social security number in a small machine and the transaction was made. Again I felt gratitude that Walmart had cashed my check
    Then it came to me. You see that the word "gratitude" is two words in one "Grate is the first half and attitude is the second. 
 
    Armando, from Anaheim, counted out $1,650 and handed me two money orders, one for a thousand and the other for six hundred and fifty. I folded them and stuck them firmly inside my front pocket. The cash followed and I made sure to place my driver's license back inside my wallet.
    Thanks a lot Armando. Then my higher power spoke. It directed me to buy two steaks. A package had two New York steaks that looked good. I picked up some corn and a bunch of beets I placed them in my nap sack and fled towards the Beach bus stop. The bus took me to Garfield where I walked across the street to Florida Street.   At the Sea Cliff Health Center, I gave Mel's dinner for two nights to Caesar and had his room number placed on it.
     In bed 135 B slept my brother Mel. Mel seemed to be resting while his roommate in Bed one was awake. A maintenance lady was cleaning the bathroom. The Josie's in these Wax Museums do not get paid nearly enough They are the backbone of this nursing home. Mel's T.V. was on which meant that he had found a ray of sunshine - now that he could see a bit and that his inner ear cancer had seemed to be clear of cancer.
     "Thank you for the steaks, and hope they don't forget in the kitchen. Did your daughter take the driver's exam?"
      "How are the Dodgers doing?"
       'I got a check in the drawer, and I wish you to take it."
       "OK Mel, that is unless you wish to take it to Lucy." Lucy is the finance manager  Mel now was up and about. I bough him a can coke from a dispenser,
    I felt proud to have served god and my brother. There now was a bounce in my step. It was now going on ten and I would celebrate at t Whole Foods at the Bella Terra Shopping Center. It felt good to have a few delectable veggies in my stomach.

      After computer work at the Main Street Library, i climbed aboard the #25 bus off of Orange and across from the Seven Eleven.  It felt great to have paid my rent and have money now for food -- at least for awhile.
       Off of Gothard is the a street mall where I sometimes buy my vegetables and fruit for a great price. On the left is my barber shop -- so good that generally I never need to look at the mirror. Today it would prove to be a mistake. Barber John cut too much off my sides and amplified my large ears. At least it was don.
   
       T

Night of the The Seventh Candle

Night of the  Seventh Candle evolved while ate I submerged myself with highly spicy Mexican food at the La Salsa restaurant. I begin my Sam Diego day with a ride on the 992 that takes me to second floor of terminal two of Lindbergh Field.  Observing the skyline of the major hotels along the coast with a hefty doze of spicy food is just the ticket for a good story, and besides it helps with my digestion.
    Obeying the Sabbath each Saturday cleansed my soul and changed the direction of my life. Located on I Street in the Chinese quarter and a block from the Horton Hotel, my stories sprang out obeying the sabbath in this little house of worship.  Each service ended with a  story that related with pasha of that month. The theme for this day dealt with Hanukkah..
      The Jewish Christmas began before the Christ Child was even born. In 168 BC, a single glass of oil burned for eight days, even if it was supposed to burn for only one. The Maccabees considered it a miracle so to commemorate it, the holiday of Hanuka began.
 
Stella lived most of her life in a small one bed flat close to a shop where men's clothes were manufactured. The first floor brick flat sat across the way from her best friend, Dina. During the cold snowy winter months they sent messages via a clothes line. They played dolls and tag, but most of all the loved to build a snow man.  She slept in a small crib at the foot of the bed of parents, Edith and Harry. Her brother Josh slept in the one bedroom
    Stella was small, with a pug nose and hazel eyes. Not great in her school work, she still made lots of friends as this gregarious one could not keep her mouth shut. She looked forward to sitting in her Dad's lap while he sang old time songs to her. Her Dad was made supervisor of the clothing plant and made supervisor. Her Mom Edith spent most of her time in the kitchen, cleaning the floors or cooking  kosher meals. Her Dad Harry, now a supervisor, sang old time songs every night. Edith her Mom presented second helpings of all types of meats.
   Stubborn, like a dog holding on to a bone, she shunned anything at the dinner table but sweat meats, and of course chocolate ice cream. She also loved to go on buses all over town to see the latest movie. Mom gave her extra money for candy. She loved all kinds of candy.
   She never received a grade higher than a C and her principal looked astonished when he delivered her diploma.. She loved to eat Yet, Her parents scorned on the first guy she fell in love with.
    Dad's new position made it possible to travel to the Catskills, across the border Not only was he not a Jew, but he was only a bank clerk.
     Both her parents hovered over her as if she was a new born chick about to hatch. When she returned from school, she sat on her dad's lap while he sang old time songs to her. To this day, she loves music and of course collecting dolls.
     Her first job was a a teller in the Bank of Montreal. She fell in love with another teller but since he was not Jewish without a good position, her parents frowned on the match. Stella was crushed. Yet it was a trip to the Catskill's in upper New York where she met her match. Her Dad had been made supervisor, and with extra money they stayed in a lodge with others. At night, they danced to the sounds of Harry James with Frank Sinatra as his lead vocalist.
     Stella had never learned to swim or dance, at least until a chap named Aaron tapped her on her shoulder and well, rather than me tell you, let's look inside the hotel and the ballroom at the Happy Valley hotel. She, at first didn't give her hand to him as he led her to the dance floor. The band played a new hit called Stormy Weather.
       "Name Stella, what is yours?"
       "Name of Aaron but my buddies call me Mr. Roosevelt."
        "Where you from Mr. Roosevelt?"
        "Born in Montreal. Dad from the Ukraine. Came here during the pogroms there. Started a plumbing business and did quite well."
        "Born in Montreal too."
    I tried to impress her with my dancing talents, but in an attempt to half swing and pick up the little powder puff, she screamed
       "Don't swing me, you hurt my back.

     They danced a few more times and her Dad told her it was time for bed She gave her phone number to Aaron and allowed him to kiss her cheek only. She really didn't care much for his looks, but her parents steered her on to marriage. She could not disobey her Dad, since he was the leading orthodox Jew in the town they lived in.  Aaron was tops in his class at Mac Gill University in Montreal.
      At eighteen she married in a lavish ceremony. Without much money and only a small grant from the college, they made their way to California. Just like a baby's first try using a fork, they had trouble making love, but sooner rather than later, they learned how to handle it.
They scrimped and had barley enough to eat as they lived in Pasadena. He enrolled at Occidental college. But good news was on the horizon. He learned about an opening at a new plant just south of Los Angeles. McDonald Douglas was hiring engineers and he applied. In no time he advanced to supervisor and was given the job of building a fuselage for the Stealth fighter in an area named Norwalk.
     Tirelessly he worked on its fuselage and shuttled back and forth to Palmdale with the crates of the fighter. the Antelope Valley where it was assembled and test flown.
   Stella scrimped and saved, buying early stock in Apple Computer stock. They bought a hilltop home with a view of Rolland Hills, she bore three kids and did any Jewish Mother would do. The boy went to Hebrew School and was tops in the boy scouts whereas the girls received scholarships to the most prestigious universities.
  Married life was a joy for many years but as Aaron's  success caused him to travel out of the country extensively, her marriage no longer simmered, but she learned to endure some of the roadblocks by traveling to distant countries.
 
Yet one evening while she watched Dancing with the Stars,  her life became a nightmare. During an intermission, she removed a bag of candy kisses from inside the refrigerator. That is when she heard what sounded like the voice of her husband.  It was her husband Irving speaking on a cell in the patio, while holding a cigarette
     "Who you talking with?"
     "Ah.. ah... I ah...ah."
     "Speaking to a women, and just after I gave you sex!"
    It was not the first time that this happened and as he didn't wish to go to counseling, she threw Aaron out of their house. She told no one. Her three kids lived elsewhere.  She didn't have too many friends so no one called.  She downed a bottle of sleeping pillsNot to let the reader suffer through the torment afterwards, she decided to throw him out and his things into a dumpster she had hired. The marriage of 42 years was over. Yes a dumpster ate Irving's family albums, clothes, books and even his Yamalka. The head piece had been a presented to him by his grand father.  She tried to down her sorrows with sleeping pills which almost took her life. Now all this transpired four years ago, and as she now says, 'Life goes on with no super expectations anymore.
    Her family celebrated the Holiday of lights in Escondido, a large city between Riverside and San Diego. Known as an Eve-ready battery, she dressed in a flash wearing her a bright blouse and pants that fit perfectly on her charming figure. Her walk-in closet housed over one hundred skirts and dresses. She used the wall closet for her many high healed shoes for this five foot two eyes of brown Jewish princess.
    She was excited but annoyed. Her husband  had left her for another, and that is after 42 years of marriage. She had ordered a large trash bin and hauled everything he owned inside the bin. Even old scrap books did not escape her wrath. She jumped into her Lexus and began her jaunt to the city of Escondido, a city just east of North San Diego County. She had brought presents for each of her 12 grandchildren and three of her own.
 
Yet Stella had another problem. She had met a bloke called George. He too met her at a dance but she found him boring and crude in dressing. Yet for some reason, she kept him around to badger and drive her to her many doctor appointments.  She still saw him but had no feelings of love for him. But she needed him as a bridge, and dancing partner.
    Sure he was handsome, what with blond hair and blue eyes, but no longer could she throw her heart away for another. No longer can she trust men since her husband moved east to Colorado with a much younger one and one that could sky.
    She drove down highway Five and took the cut off for Escondido, just east of Oceanside. The city is located in a dry aired area with temps at least ten degrees higher than the coastal ones. Her eldest Sandra, home was a ranch style four bedroom on an acre of property. A motorcycle and jeep stood in the driveway. Two other kids with her grandchildren also were present.
     A pool and several trees were in the backyard area, with two large figs that had grown so large that black birds made it a big trip each year to pick the choicest of the August crop. Inside the house there was the smell of pine and chestnuts were being roasted. The Fireplace was crackling. (More to come. unedited.)
 
 
 
 
 

Amby Schindler and Surfing

On Monday surfing became California's official state sport. Mr. Schindler would appreciate this act since He boarded wood most of his life, and would rather ride a long large wave than score a U.S.C touchdown. Think that you will enjoy part of text on surfing in his story. The action takes place in a Hermosa beach restaurant overlooking the Pacific.

    "George, can you have the waiter bring me more water with a straw and lemon....Thanks...And what are those mountains of sand doing there," Schindler remarked as he began to eat his Taco plate with beans and rice.
     "The last storm carried away a life guard tower, flooded the strand and nearby stores  The mountain of sand acts as a wall so this will not happen again,"I replied
     While we sat in a booth overlooking volleyball games with bike riders getting off their bikes and walking them, this ninety year old's eyes seemed to reminisce about the times he could ride a bike. The serenity of the beach scene brought back memories of another time as we made ready for our meal.
      "I remember that I had trouble cashing my twenty dollar check as it had the wrong name on it. My boss, the sheriff, gave me twenty dollars and for a dollar or two took the Santa Fe back to the San Diego station with a street car or two, was able to visit my family in the Golden Hills area."
       "My main job was transporting briefs and I was forever going under the tunnel on Temple Street to the Hall of Records. Sometime I would take the Red Cars to deliver some important papers to Long Beach or some other city. Several times in Long Beach, I would play hooky from my job and jumping off a pier and body surfing a wave to shore. The police were always chasing me, but they didn't know that I was the fastest athlete in Southern California. I was always waiting for a string of breakers before jumping off the pier to snag them to shore"
       "The sheriff was always trying to keep me busy and those many times he could not find work for me I would work on my paddle board plans and hike them from him. He caught me red handed with two boards of plywood and redwood and instead of scolding me, he allowed me to make surf boards with his son at home. He lived off of Pico Blvd and Western."
        "The wood cost about sixty dollars and weighed 35 pounds. I was able to stand on the board and take it in on my second try. off the Hermosa Beach Pier. It felt as good as running for a touchdown when I found out that I could stand and not fall off the long board."
        "For crying out loud Amby, what are you laughing about? What is so funny and can you wipe the spot off your nose," I insisted.
        "Excuse me George, but i just thought about the time in San Onofre where my football bussies buddies took boards on their rumple seats to wear the waves crested just the right way. I made friends with Barney Wilkes who was a dentist in San Clemente and also helped us gain favor with the marines in Camp Pendleton. They had earlier tried to to keep us away from their beach. I drove a Cabriole Roadster at the time."
        "After a good day of surfboarding, we would all place or woolen trunks on a pilc of straw to dry and try to sleep at night. The next morning, we were shocked that there were holes in our bathing suits and had to use towels to hide our privates as we drove back to Los Angeles. The squirrels had a good time eating the salt from those suits as these beaches were famous for their salt content."
       "We always had somebody plane down the wood for a small fee.. My other favorite spot was to surf were off the Manhattan Beach Pier and the bluff of Palox Verdes. We called these bluffs Little Waikiiki and the waves there were long and wide. I had to be pulled out of the water several times because of charley horses as I was just too muscular." I even entered some paddle board contests that called for us to go from the beach to all the way to Catalina." 

       "c" George Garrett 2018 from the Schindler Story

       
       
     
     
     

A Orange County Bus Blooper

I had left Connie's house in the early morning and took the #14 bus to the Beverly Hills library. I had to pay for a lost book and then check out another. My higher power comes alive when reading a good book. The one was the biography about Charles Dickens. 
   Left library at about 12:30 and took three buses and two trains back to Long Beach. There I would link up with the 560 rapid bus to Huntington Beach. The Long Beach Blue line train dropped me off on Fifth Street where I just made it aboard the #29.  The bus does a half waltz to Seventh Street on its way to the VA Center and Wilson High School. 
    To my chagrin, two wheel chairs climbed aboard two stops from the last. The first was a large motorized one with furry toys hooked on its handles. It took the driver about two minutes to hook him up. That is when another, this one a non-electric attempted to negotiate the steps of the bus. It was now about three thirty on Wednesday.  
     A grey headed bearded one tried to push in coins in the slot but his hands were of no use. His luggage was as wide as the aisle of the bus and he tried to sit while the bus driver screamed at him for not placing the coins properly. 
     Long Beard had his face hidden with more grey. But it was his big hooked nose that told me a man was under the grey blanket of hair. His eyes were not visible. He counted a few coins and when the bus stopped on Channel and Long Beach transit station I gleefully jump off and went towards the rapid 560 parked up the street.  It was a little after four and I had a meeting at five with somebody interested in my football story. I would be on time, or so I thought. 
    Outside the bus stood a tall lean grey haired old man. He looked perplexed but still kept up a strong appearance.  He could have easily been president of a mortuary as he wore tall black socks that hid his spindly legs over black shorts. 
   He seemed vexed. There must have been a problem with the bus as the driver remain in the bus or visit the station for food and drink. He waited for help. That is when a OCTA white car drove up and a little man, without hair walked towards Tall Socks. Outside the bus, the supervisor went to the rear of the bus. 
   "Need to go in reverse to make it go," he insisted. They walked to the front of the bus and tried to engage the motor but it didn't engage. Meantime, about fifteen tired domestics and laborers climbed aboard. After five minutes I left the bus and asked the supervisor the problem. again. 
     "Is this bus going to leave", I asked and tried to hide my anger.
   He walked pass me and his eyes told me to F...O...I forgot what I said but now knew I would be late for my appointment. After fifteen minutes the patrons remained on the bus. Tall Socks never told the passengers the problem.  nothing to the passengers.
   Several feet in back of me another bu, a 560 pulled up. We loaded on this bus and at another stop, about twenty passengers came aboard. Several mentioned that they now could not connect with their connecting bus. 
    Most of them live in the Santa Ana area, the route of the 560 bus. It took another fifteen minutes before these tired lost souls got on this bus. Yet the bus with the problem now was gone. Was the motor now working? 

I became tired and angry, and deservedly so. It cancelled out a perfect day, And when my 30 day pass had problems with its sensor, I tried to reveal the problems to their office. I found out that I had to visit their office in Santa Ana. I would need to hook up with three buses to arrive at their Main Street office. 
   The next day It took me three buses and two hours to arrive their. 
I had trouble finding where to go but finally went to an office on the first floor. I could not get any water and there were no restrooms but I did get a chance to speak to a Mr. Cipriano. He had trouble understanding me, but I did feel good to get a new bus pass and unload my troubles on them. 
     
     
    

A Bird-less Day in Santa Monica

The Blue Seven bus deposited its passengers on Fourth and Broadway. I could see the hair of Connie as she extricated herself from the bus. Baby Nell's face was hidden inside the black stroller
  "What ya say we teach Nell to read today and visit the library?"
  "No problem with that but we need to hurry. I need to pee."
   I peeked inside the carriage. Nell was too busy sucking on a lolly pop to look up at me. I hurried down Fourth to Sixth Street and made a left at a large brand new building. We crossed Fourth and Daisy's restaurant looked inviting.
   We are on a budget now that is meeker than ever so we decided to forgo a seat at this busy eatery. Like many others the middle class and the homeless are not invited in Donald's game. We are not the high rollers but still we have are own game.
    An aired sunny day greeted us as we made it to the library. There is nothing like a stroll in Santa Monica although not seeing any scooters or birds made me depressed  Connie went to the bathroom while I pushed Nell to the kids section. I picked her up and helped her sit in a chair. I took a wooden puzzle and turned the board over.
    I helped Nell place the cut out animals back inside the board...but another area sidetracked her attention. Several kiddie computers sat a short distance from us. She ran up to one and sat down. She pushed the mouse back and forth while with other hand she punished the keyboard. No images emerged but that didn't stop her.
    Older kids on other computers with help of Mom worked the machines. One little kid left early so we used the rest of its time. What a way to teach little kids how to read, write and think. I knew that Li'l Nell was ready for bigger things now. Connie returned a bit late. She had gone to Goodwill across the street and bought two pairs of pants.
     George I feel like a bagel.
     Let's go to the cafe here.
     First  I need to change her diaper. I guess the excitement did wonders for her bowels
     Well Connie, now she thinks, worries and plays like an adult.
      As usual, birds fascinated her. One Sparrow paced the pavement for any left overs Nell had lost
      I spent too much for a Chinese Salad and Connie somehow lost her appetite but she did feel like coffee so we hightailed it down Santa Monica Blvd to the Second Street Bean restaurant that can't afford its own bathroom. Refreshed now we strolled down Second and up Beach. Not far from the Shores Hotel we saw a long sleek black Lemo. 
      We sat off of Ocean and ate the beach scene in front of us. Li'l Nell fell fast asleep. Many tourists paraded down the sidewalk but it was the smell of the ocean air, swept by the Malibu winds that enriched the day. Still upset that the birds no longer skated in front of us, we pushed the stroller south towards New Park. (birds are the skateboards.)
      We passed the french fry concession and turned left. Inside the children's area, the kids came down the slides or with their feet pushed a button to allow the water to shoot up to the sky. Nell now awoke, but would have nothing to do with the water. In fact she was downright scared. 
      We had no sandwiches, only chips as Connie seemed to be out of it today. She baby sat and with all the crying, she needed more sleep. Nell stomped in a man-made stream for a bit and then it happened. She uttered the words "Fenfry". 
      I knew that we just could not afford the concessions but could the happy meal at MacDonalds. We were almost trampled by a gush of people but did make it to the eatery. The happy meal included a man inside a canon. When you pulled it the man flew off. There was no end to her laughter. Outside the police wrestled a vagrant to the ground and a family next to us seemed to be beset by a stomach problem their kid had. 
   Time to go at about five. I carried the baby while Connie wheeled the stroller to the transit bus stop on Fourth St. to end a perfect day. 

Revisit to Niagara Falls Santa Monica

As a kid in the forties, My Mom Edith drove us to the beaches most every day. For a short duration, we belonged to the Dauville Club, close to the Santa Monica Pier. I could not swim, but got my feet wet in water that spilled in from the Ocean. The pier offered a musical ride on the ponies, cotton candy, candy apples and a chance to play the arcade games further down on the pier. To admire the growth of my God Daughter Nell has made me a child again. 

   Last Saturday, Connie and I had a chance to remove the grease from reality and enjoy the  organic   beach scene in Santa Monica.  After a trip on the Santa Monica 7 bus, we took Colorado Street to Ocean and made a right turn. A trail to New Park brought us to the children's water area. It is where Li'l Nell first came in contact with a geyser that spewed water any time one placed their foot on a small round plastic top. Connie is old to be a Grand Mother, but her daughter Diana had her second child late in her forties.It is one o'clock. 
    Nell remembers her last experience at the water fall. She watches as other kids dance and jump up and down as streams of water glance off their bodies. Nell will have nothing to do with this. Again, she sees a puddle of muddy water and decided to jump and splatter the water everywhere. We know she will get dirty and this time, Connie dressed her in old shorts and a blouse   Li'll Nell allows me to hold her as we go down one of the three slides. It gives me to bond, laugh and make it a great day. 
    Up a hill are new clean restrooms and benches. It is my chance to eat a sandwich and drink from their fountain. Beautiful foliage with various types of plants make me feel as if I am in some wilderness Nell comes over and shares a banana and sandwich with me. She sees a stream of water and decides to go where two older infants now sit. She places her feet in the steam of water that paves its way down the hill  are now sitting.
At about four o'clock, Connie is hungry so we pave our way out and make a right turn. Nellie mumbles something that sound like fries so i order a small batch for five dollars. We find a shady spot in back of the fries truck and remove each fry from a paper cone with a wide brim. It is just the taste we need before we humble back to civilization.   
   

Old Red Car rails cut

The Sky was a deep blue as I poked my head out of the subway on Seventh and Figueroa on Friday morning. The trek began in Surf City  at six o'clock and after four bus connections and two trains, I popped up on Seventh Street and Figueroa. The new Korean building was in front of me with Starbucks to its south. 
  I stood in line and gazed down at the brown leather shoes favored by the men. Unlike Huntington Beach, the downtown city folk spend lots of time to look like a bank examiners. The friendly third cashier took my order. This coffee shop is easiest the busiest in Los Angeles...and the most colorful particularly at Xmas time. 
   I took up a seat next to the window and found out the combination for the clean bathroom. The ebb and flow of the citizenry sprinkled its colors through the windows. Across from me was the brick Bank of America. The older buildings were built with brick and mortar. A young smile came towards me wearing tight fitting colorful pants. 
   "Good morning...Do you mind it I sit here Waiting for my car to be fixed?'
   "Just bought it."
   " No, problem with engine Has seventy thousand miles but still under warranty" 
   "Do you work downtown?'
   "No I plan parties...life in West Hollywood."
    "Please to meet you but need to do research in the library. Good luck with the car."
 Across the street workers used pick axes to dislodge old rails used by the Red Cars .I propped myself next to a post and watched with amazement as a piece of Lady Los Angeles was being torn up. A man wearing goggles and a circular saw tried his best to separate the rails, but the steal would not give in. Saw a traffic director  came towards me.
     "Why they digging the rails?" 
      "We are to make a bus stop and also lanes for bikes. 
      "Hey, nobody rides bikes...Just look at the Birdies in Santa Monica. Everyone loves to ride these scooters. City of L.A wishes to make rules for them. Too bad they can't find a way to use these old rails." 
    I then walked towards the library on Fifth and Flower but to my dismay, found a ribbon across the entrance of the Panda Express. I paid a two day late fee and checked out a book A friend of mine, is retiring and leaving accounting to learn French while in France. Though I would give him a heads up. 
    Four floors down in the history department I ordered microfilms of the Chicago Tribune. I needed more information about the Chicago All Star Game of 1940. I removed pictures of the two teams, the College All Stars and the Green Bay Packers. This is my real love, research. 
    My stomach spoke to me. "Fill me or you are dead!"
  Panda was still dead so I took the Hope exit to an eatery and ordered a sandwich before heading for the underground  I was to meet with Connie and Li'l Nell, her grand daughter 
  The Purple Line took me to Western and Wilshire. I walked around the CVS and took it clear to Edris. I walked west to Coffee Bean and saw a large bright brim hat. Connie smiled and came my way Inside the stroller slept Li'll Nell. We were to go to New Park Santa Monica.  
   


  
   
   
 

The Sand Box in Surf City

George sits at the bus stop, across from the match box, his hot apartment. He knows the heat and toxic air inside will kill him, so at six o'clock he waits for his bus. It will take him to another box, this one of sand in  Slurp City.  
   Into his nap sack he packed two chicken sandwiches, the remains of the chicken he ate last night. He packed two chicken sandwiches for lunch at sat at the bus stop. It felt good to be at the top of the mountain and look down at the world. The full moon was at nine o'clock which reminded him that the planet Mars could be seen the night before,  but he was too tired from the miserable heat of the night to view it. 
   The bus stops and he enters. As usual, about thirty Vietnamese Boat People have taken every seat. he puts on his ear plugs as the jabbering little  people have a nasal quality to their high pitches. Each jockey wears large brim hats along with smiling faces. They go to where I go, the Sand Box in Slurp City. 
    He feels so good he decides not to take the bus but use his legs for the A.A. meeting just south of the Waterfront Hotel. As always he worries that his state check comes on time since the managemen company hits him with a late fee and two days later a notice to quit the apartments. 
    Like the two thousand homeless who live in Skid Row Los Angeles, he is one check away from the streets. Slurp City should have laws that can cushion the blows of the parsimonious owners and have rent control along with longer periods for payments. But he has no control as he made his bed and must now sleep in it. 
    At least he has made it to the top of the mountain and soon will be seventy nine years old. Like his brother said the other day, his higher power is living each day to the fullest, and he does. His brother is doing quite well now that he can hear and see. On Saturday when he brought him a steak, He had to bowls of oat meat and a tall cup of hot chocolate. 
    "George, a good looking blond leads me around often and Jessie takes good care of me. I don't need you so have a good day."

He reaches where the A.A, meeting is held. The meetings are powerful and he enjoys listening to those who have conquered their depression by using the twelve steps. He is early so he sits in the sand to read his old British Illustrated magazine. He reads the section on Hogarth, a great artist and eats one of his sandwiches.
    About thirty people show up to these meetings and he always feels mentally nourished afterwards he does not share. He dis a hole in the sand and puts away problems that he no longer can control and covers them up.
    It might be eighty degrees in the downtown library in Slurp City but he doesn't mind, you see, George is at the Top of the Mountain and can now watch those who try to climb it. He may not have the ten commandments but he can appreciate his higher power, the ability to enjoy each day. 
    
   

Niagara falls come to Santa Monica

We met at Coffee Bean on Pico Blvd, a block west from Beverly Drive. It was eleven o'clock and after taking six buses and two trains, it was great to meet up with Connie and my Grand Child, Nellie. 
    The West L.A. area is called Little Jerusalem by many, since store front synagogues, Kosher restaurants and food stores, and gift shops are what Pico is all about. Today a rabbi offers help to a young girl with marital problems while a lawyer discusses a divorce with a rather upset Persian. 
    There is a strong westerly breeze and a blue sky today. Connie i have known for several years and it amazes me that this 97 year old can still get around. The one and only pill she takes is aspirin, and two years ago, this tall lady who always wears a hat was a performer at the Comedy Club in West Hollywood.  
    As always we meet at Coffee Bean where Connie and her  grandchild wait for me. I had taken five buses and two trains to get here, but well worth it. The North Westerly breezes came off shore.
     "George, just need a Mocha coffee. Let's stop at Coffee Bean on Second when we arrive in Santa Monica. 
     "No trouble, but can you put Nellie inside the stroller. My shoulders are killing me." 
    
Providence has kept me alive to watch the weekly growth of Nellie, soon to be eighteen months. I am her God Father but she calls me just Pops.  She has brown inquisitive eyes, a cute pug nose to go with page boy brown hair. Many at the coffee shop come and can't get over how unique this baby looks and acts. Just maybe an act of God brought her to me. 
   We take the Blue Number 7 bus to Santa Monica. It goes straight down Pico and makes a right off of Forth Street with Santa Monica College to our right. We get off at Colorado and again place the baby into a stroller and wiggle down to Pacific Palisades 
     Nellie is a blue eyed tall infant with a mind of her own. Everyone stops and stairs on Third Street as she waddles up to everyone with a high five. Nellie has long brown hair and as usual wears a braid. She is a plump little lass with eyes that capture the attention of everyone on the strand. She is the daughter of Connie's second daughter Karen.
     After a snort hitch at another Coffee Bean where Connie indulges in another mocha blend drink. we stroll  down Santa Monica Blvd, Cross Ocean and ride the path around Pacific Palisades Park towards the pier. I wish to find out if Nellie is still scared of the ponies on the Merry-go-round. The pier brimming with people e pier in a hurry to get to the fun zone and all of its rides at the end of the pier.  A couple of barkers are selling religion and their sounds could be heard for miles around.
     We cross over and enter the Merry-go-round. I pay two dollars for one adult and place Li'l Nell on a horse while Connie goes to the soda fountain that is inside the Merry-Go-Round for a chocolate cone. The fountain reminds me of those in the fifties.  
     "That horse is stationary. Let me take you to one that moves"
   A operator tells me to ride a horse that goes up and down, or not stationary. Nell is now on the horse and appears happy until the piece of wood goes up and down. Her lower lip quivers and she leans towards me. As the horsey goes faster, up and down, she cries I hold her till the ride is over.
     We go to the fun zone and in front of the quarter arcade are metallic cars, fire trucks and other means of transportation. I insert four quarters into a slot and place Little Nell inside the car. She turns the steering wheel but as soon as the car begins to go up and down. she wants out. She is frightened.
     "George, I feel like finding some grass so I can change Nell's diaper."
      Next to the Hot Dog on a Stick is a singer who welcomes the thousands of pedestrians who saunter up and down the walk As we walk up a hill towards Ocean Park Blvd, I remind Connie of a park that has just been finished. We find a light and cross Ocean to the New Park. 

 
New Park we visited two months ago. The large park has a large free fun zone for kids. Besides the rock climbing, slides and the rope climb, another attraction has been added. I was surprise as was Nell when we found out about it. 
     Nell saw kids stomping on water. Connie removed her shorts and tops and she waddled into the puddles of water. Out of nowhere, a waterfall cascaded on her. Scared to death, she ran back to Connie who consoled her. 
     It appeared to rain anytime kids stomped on a spot inside this area. To little Nell it must have felt like our own Niagara Falls on the border of the U.S.A and Canada. 
    That is where I got into the action. I felt like being a kid again at almost 79 years young. I pulled up my pants and sprung into action. I too stomped on these buttons that caused a Geiger to shoot up to the sky. Out of the corner of my eye, Little Nell began to slowly join me. 
    We both got drenched, but she discovered a mud puddle not far from the pool of water She jumped and down in the mud puddle until she was black. 
    And our day in Santa Monica had only just begun. Later we strolled to the Third Street Mall. Little Nell wanted a balloon fashioned to look like a tiger. Stubborn as all kids are, I was forced to give fife dollars for the balloon. 
   Today Li'l Nell practices sitting on a curb or taking step off the curb. But Connie wishes to go to the Gap, since there is a 30% sell today. It is on the corner of Third Street and Santa Monica. 
   Connie buys a few items while I search all over for a hidden Li'l Nell  This daredevil picks out clothes, and removes them off the rack She loves to shop.  
   But it is getting late, almost five o'clock and Karen is to pick us up where the buses stop across from the new Salvation Army and a clock from where the Expo line empties