Happy New Year Mel!

"Hi, Kelly. The minutes of the meeting were not inside top drawer."
"They should be there.,, Look again."
"Mel is in isolation for another few days. I don't dare to enter the room. Here is a steak I just bought from Vons. Can you take it to the cafeteria. There is a red line and I can't go in."
  Just arrived from an Access taxi, I felt anxious to see my brother Mel. Was told that he had been in isolation, and knew he had all of his teeth finally removed. I wished to see the condition of my brother at the Warehouse, or I mean the Sea Cliff Health Center on Florida Street in Huntington Beach.
  I peered inside room 135B. Bed one was empty...thank God. Chuck has been a pain in the ass for my brother Mel. With a hearing problem, he is always shouting. This is the fourth station, the last at the warehouse, since their expiration date will be coming soon.
  "How you doing Mel?" He tossed and turned. "Can't go in since you are in isolation."
  "I am in a pickle. It has been the worst two years of my life!"
   "At least your hearing is better. Brought you a steak and some corn for tonight. Should be leaving quarantine area in a few days."
   Mel's loud voice told me that he was doing quite well, not in a half-coma like I found him a few months ago. I walked to the nursing station and Ruby came a few minutes later. She is the nurse in charge of Mel.
   "Like to know how Mel is doing. He sounds good."
   "He is being given the medicine to remove the cancer. Tests from his doctor came back positive. He has a date with his ear doctor on the fourth of May and later a date with eye doctor."
   "Thanks Ruby, Incidentally, \can you get me a copy of minutes? They are inside top drawer"
   Ruby left and went to Mel's room. She put on a gown and gloves. A few minutes later she returned...without the minutes of our meeting.. She called Kelly who told her to call telephone another person. . We went to the first social worker and I waited and waited. Christy took me to her cubicle and I waited some more. She printed out a form for me  but not the minutes. I did not react but felt happy my brother was still alive.. I didn't react since I knew they were stonewalling me .
   I left happy that Mel's expiration date has been moved up. Of course I knew I would be stonewalled.  why the minutes were not available. All of them could be indicted for complicity. Yes, Sir Joseph Nassir had been his primary doctor for over three years -- but don't tell Mel. He still has never seen him. Like Joseph, maybe he is in a pit and can't climb out.
    For newcomers, Evelyn told us at a meeting that Nassir was his primary doctor. When I reacted by stating the Mel had never seen the man, the Ombudsman, Barbara let out a shriek. "How did you ever get Mel's Mail?

    The above scene took place at the Warehouse on Florida Street in Huntington Beach between Delaware and Main   The motel looking building has three wings, but none Kosher. Mel is in the rear of the nursing home, but really a warehouse for the dead and dying Yet is still repugnant as to how these inmates are handled.

   The weekend of May 20th and 21st, I celebrated the New Year at my Synagogue on Warner Avenue, almost across from the CVS store. Nassir was no where to be found. Wondered if somebody had told the Medicare of the possible fraud. It was the holy of all holies. My Rabbi summed it up in his sermon.
   Oh yes, Berkowitz is charming. Too bad he wears a beard but then all rabbis must or who would know their profession. This New Yorker is small but his beaming eyes make up for his height. You feel the presence of God when he speaks, yes speaks to his congregation. He is dressed in black, of course to hide the dirt.
    "Today we commemorate the time that God asked Moses to climb a latter to heaven and gather up the ten commandments. Now Moses, went but not willingly. When he made it clear to heaven a few angles stuck him in the ribs. This is what happened."
     'I came to get those ten commandments., Moses entreated.
     'No way boss. we are angles and own these laws...And besides, who in the hell are you to come into our home and take our scrolls.'
     Moses grabbed them while God kicked their asses to make angel food cake out of them."
 And so began the Jewish News year

   After Kiddish, I took two buses to visit Mel. I had brought him two corn-on-the-cobs. I expected to see Mel lying I bed screaming "get me out of here...It is the worst two years of my life."
Instead, he showed o signs of pain and walked with the help of a walker. And he could see where he was going today.
   I felt too tired to feel exuberant, but was pleased Mel had not expired yet at the cannery. Just maybe he will outlive me now.


   
  

A Peachy Day in Santa Monica

It felt good to take a break and enjoy another morning in Santa Monica, the gateway to Los Angeles. The number 7 Blue Pico bus dropped me off on Broadway and fourth. I followed the ocean breeze to Colorado Street and down a few blocks to MacDonald's.
   Hungry as a tiger, I ordered the Deluxe breakfast: pancakes, eggs, buns, a sausage, and jelly. The usual homeless one stood by the door, hoping to catch a tourist. The tourists don't know what to make of all of these homeless. In front of me, a black hooded one dressed in rags took out his wallet to order a coffee. Like most of them, they had their EBT card.
   I opened a glass door in the back and took up a patio seat. It felt good to give up coffee for water, and I felt a new kind of relaxation come over me. No longer in s rush, I savored every morsel of it and finally went to the pancakes. I soaked the pancakes in syrup and gingerly savored each bite full of energy. The six dollar meal was well worth it. A local paper advertised the Wednesday Farmers Market.
   After busing my remains, I walked a block west. At almost eight, the Sub had business Across from me on an island bench a sleepy one stood up and mouthed a few obscenities. I walked north in front of two large hotels and continued all the way to Santa Monica Blvd. I wondered if the church on Second Street still had those 12 step Al Anon meetings. Those meetings meant a lot to me then. Two produce trucks on Arizona told me the Farmer's market was in progress.I sat on the bench and watched a truck laden with mushroom boxes. Men were unloading boxes and taking them to a stand on Arizona.  I walked a bit further and saw a lady enter the church.
   "Miss, may I intrude on you and ask if Al Anon meets today."
   "Yes, follow me."
   Of course, at my age, I could not keep up with the lass who walked through a door, took the steps to the basement and made a right turn .In progress was a meeting of about thirty, of mixed ages, but full of hope and determination. A few shares reminded me of my own path to serenity  Since anonymity is the guts of the program, I will not speak about what they said. I connected with one who had lost her two babies to her lawyer husband and spent $300,000, She lost the case and sobbed.
   Apparently the meeting had begun at seven thirty so the one hour meeting ended at eight thirty. I helped in putting back the chairs and exited It felt good that these great meetings went on all week at the church...since I would be back.
   But Santa Monica just wouldn't be Santa Monica without the Farmer's Market. I saw a vender from Fresno and took a slice of a peach. It was out of my price range at four dollars a pound...but what the hell, it was my daughters 35th birthday.
   He picked out four juicy ones. I gave him a five and he returned a quarter. I just couldn't wait to savor the peach on a peachy day in downtown Santa Monica.


Nuts and bolts for today: Wouldn't it be great to make each day peachy.
  
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