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.