It has been over six months now, and even though Mel has been visited by countless dentists, the inflamed infected teeth now consumed each waking moment. And typical of the Sea Cliff Health Center, it behaves like a wax museum. He had been taken Norco for pain and like before, I knew that death might be on his front door if the teeth were not removed
My three hour stay with Mel on Sunday proved to be a mistake. I took Brother Mel's pain to bed with me so on Monday and had a sleepless night. At least he still went to rehab downstairs where Amber and where he could sing and walk and forget the pain in his teeth.
A block from my apartment is the #33 bus stop. With my Access card it is only a quarter to ride the bus for Disneyland. But this is not the amusement park one might expect. No, it is the ride to a cheaper Disneyland, called the City of Angels in the 30's - and for me again today.
It takes about forty five minutes to leave Surf City and pass Little Saigon, Garden Grove, Anaheim and my stop at the Texaco Gas Station. It costs me $75 cents to ride the long Metro bus but it is a idyllic ride. Good clean air uplifts my spirits as we get to the Norwalk Transit Station. Again I look forward to the hustle and bustle of downtown Los Angeles.
My ticket gets me on all the rides in the City of Dodgers. But first, I must visit my Grand Daughter, Li'l Nell. She call me "Papa" and I love it. Tonight I baby sits and she cuddles up with me in the back bedroom. Of course I don't play favorites and have Mickey and Mini Mouse sleeping with us...and I almost forgot about Donald Duck.
The next day it is all about writing. I to to Nate and Al's, in Beverly Hills for my matzo ball soup, of course with pickle sand freshly made rye bread. Including coffee it is all of ten dollars. Next to me are two lawyers who are chumming up with a lady who is in the midst of a divorce. Wow, they way they talk they could charm even Donald Trump away from a round of golf or his twitter.
My brother Mel is forgotten as I lavishly spread jam on my toasted rye. Even though I missed the toast and coated my just washed shirt with black jam, it did not curb my joy for this day.
After a visit to the San Diego Library I felt like using my free ticket for not the Grove, but for Santa Monica. While I wait for the 704, a multitude of wide eyed albino, cherub Chinese tourists remove themselves from the bus and peer at me as if I am some exotic specie. They probably think I look like Donald Trump. The 704 Sana Monica bus picks me up on amply-named, Santa Monica. The bus putters through Century City, West Los Angeles and finally Santa Monica.
My Disneyland ticket gets me a ride on the finest looking city in the South Bay. I get off on Broadway that leads me to my Thai restaurant on Santa Monica Blvd, across the street from the gap. You get a bang for your buck here with all the free soup your full belly can hold. But I need to get to the new library -- where there is a free stack of periodicals.
From the best free stack of periodicals, I removed the December of 1939 Times. History of these dark days is thrown in my face as the Reds have invaded Finland, and several countries have removed chunks of Czechoslovakia..It is now four o'clock and I needed something to hold me over. I cross the street for Philz Coffee.
It is worth three dollars and change for the cocktail mixers to put some ingredients in the coffee. Now I have never tasted such delightful coffee I remove two children't books and make my way to the bus stop on Fourth Street.
Yes, just another day in Disneyland, and how much for admission, almost nothing. Remember that the Best Things in Life are Free.
Thursday, March 28, 2019
Tuesday, March 26, 2019
The Los Angles Metro Bus
Needed to get away from the pollen-mold capital of Southern California, and the knowledge of visiting Li'l Nell excited me. After watching my brother Mel complain about his infected teeth, I needed to remove stress with a kiss the lips of Los Angeles. The air quality of Los Angeles is leaps and bounds better than south facing beaches of Southern California.
The Surf City 33 bus picked me up at at eight ten. Again, I said hello to my friends from Little Saigon who trick to the beach each morning. These thin-healthy ones are the happiest people in the Huntington Beach area. The twenty or so on board joke with one-another as they wait for their stop in Westminster
After Little Saigon or Westminster, the bus makes a sharp turn and Garden Grove is in view. I feel a surge of energy as the buses AC removes begin to clean my lungs air-filter. Tee bus ambles on to Anaheim before settling descending on Buena Park and La Palms. The Metro 460 bus stop fronts a Texaco gas station, a relic from the good-old-days. Gas has climbed to $3,50 a gallon.
The bus stop has been commandeered by two homeless transits. One lies on the bench while the other sorts his clothes inside his luggage. Like many homeless, the bus stop serves as their home before they find shelter or end up in the hospital or morgue. I wait a few minutes until the Metro Bus stops. Two climb aboard before I place three quarters in the cash slot. I walk to the rear and take a seat in front of the air conditioner. a large young man wears shorts and sandals is at the opposite end.
"Do you mind putting on ear plugs. I don't wish to hear music right now."
"Don't own any."
"Go right ahead then, I can live with it."
He moves to another seat. The bus makes a right on Beach as I say hello to Mr. and Mrs. Knots as a roller coaster zips by my head. The bus goes another miles and makes a right on La Mirada. We are headed for Norwalk as it zigs and zags back and forth through the City of Commerce.
I remove a plastic bag of Fuji apple slices.The flow of natural sugar perks me up. A smile comes over me as I begin to forget my Brother Goldberg's teeth problems The bus makes a turn on Firestone and Imperial and enters a side street. It pulls into the Norwalk Transit Station. Several hundred cars are parked there as they have taken buses or the Green Line train.
Finally my bus picks up a few more passengers and leaves the Center. It makes a sharp left onto the 105 Freeway that parallels the Green line tracks. Hunger overtakes me and I remove a peanut butter sandwich from my bag and munch on it. It feels good that I will be downtown in a few minutes in a trip that has taken me less than two and one half hours The long bus curves to the right and says good by to the 105. It is now on Harbor and makes stops at Manchester, Slauson and a U.S.C station.
Since it travels on is own bus lane, it is a breeze as the downtown sky-scrappers bestow their greetings to me. I wave to Magic Johnson at Staples, the renowned Pantry and finally get off at Seventh and Fig. I shake a leg and walk across Fig. A young chap is blaring rap as a business man in aa blue suit vapors himself and enters Morton's Steak House. I enter Staples and give my order after [picking up a New York Time.It is now ten thirty and i hear a commotion
A security guard has placed gloves on and shakes a sleepless one on the shoulder. The sleepy one tries to stand and does on the third try - it is obvious that he tries to make a scene and then sue Starbucks.
The headlines seem to be good for Trump but the story that grips me is the one about a a Vi\king Ship that is being tossed by 25 feet waves. Helicopters pick up many but the ship makes ot back to a harbor safe and sound. The homeless one return to the same area and begins to drink a latte. Going on eleven now, I head across the street to the \Seventh Street Station. I tap my blue card and elevator down to to the Purple Line. At Western, I pop up. The sky is blue, ever so blue and my tattered lung sing to me. Soon I will see a gift from God, my Li'l Nell.
NUTS and Bolts for today: Li'l Nell slept with me last night.. .so I got little sleep...but what I got was well worth it...A gift from heaven.
The Surf City 33 bus picked me up at at eight ten. Again, I said hello to my friends from Little Saigon who trick to the beach each morning. These thin-healthy ones are the happiest people in the Huntington Beach area. The twenty or so on board joke with one-another as they wait for their stop in Westminster
After Little Saigon or Westminster, the bus makes a sharp turn and Garden Grove is in view. I feel a surge of energy as the buses AC removes begin to clean my lungs air-filter. Tee bus ambles on to Anaheim before settling descending on Buena Park and La Palms. The Metro 460 bus stop fronts a Texaco gas station, a relic from the good-old-days. Gas has climbed to $3,50 a gallon.
The bus stop has been commandeered by two homeless transits. One lies on the bench while the other sorts his clothes inside his luggage. Like many homeless, the bus stop serves as their home before they find shelter or end up in the hospital or morgue. I wait a few minutes until the Metro Bus stops. Two climb aboard before I place three quarters in the cash slot. I walk to the rear and take a seat in front of the air conditioner. a large young man wears shorts and sandals is at the opposite end.
"Do you mind putting on ear plugs. I don't wish to hear music right now."
"Don't own any."
"Go right ahead then, I can live with it."
He moves to another seat. The bus makes a right on Beach as I say hello to Mr. and Mrs. Knots as a roller coaster zips by my head. The bus goes another miles and makes a right on La Mirada. We are headed for Norwalk as it zigs and zags back and forth through the City of Commerce.
I remove a plastic bag of Fuji apple slices.The flow of natural sugar perks me up. A smile comes over me as I begin to forget my Brother Goldberg's teeth problems The bus makes a turn on Firestone and Imperial and enters a side street. It pulls into the Norwalk Transit Station. Several hundred cars are parked there as they have taken buses or the Green Line train.
Finally my bus picks up a few more passengers and leaves the Center. It makes a sharp left onto the 105 Freeway that parallels the Green line tracks. Hunger overtakes me and I remove a peanut butter sandwich from my bag and munch on it. It feels good that I will be downtown in a few minutes in a trip that has taken me less than two and one half hours The long bus curves to the right and says good by to the 105. It is now on Harbor and makes stops at Manchester, Slauson and a U.S.C station.
Since it travels on is own bus lane, it is a breeze as the downtown sky-scrappers bestow their greetings to me. I wave to Magic Johnson at Staples, the renowned Pantry and finally get off at Seventh and Fig. I shake a leg and walk across Fig. A young chap is blaring rap as a business man in aa blue suit vapors himself and enters Morton's Steak House. I enter Staples and give my order after [picking up a New York Time.It is now ten thirty and i hear a commotion
A security guard has placed gloves on and shakes a sleepless one on the shoulder. The sleepy one tries to stand and does on the third try - it is obvious that he tries to make a scene and then sue Starbucks.
The headlines seem to be good for Trump but the story that grips me is the one about a a Vi\king Ship that is being tossed by 25 feet waves. Helicopters pick up many but the ship makes ot back to a harbor safe and sound. The homeless one return to the same area and begins to drink a latte. Going on eleven now, I head across the street to the \Seventh Street Station. I tap my blue card and elevator down to to the Purple Line. At Western, I pop up. The sky is blue, ever so blue and my tattered lung sing to me. Soon I will see a gift from God, my Li'l Nell.
NUTS and Bolts for today: Li'l Nell slept with me last night.. .so I got little sleep...but what I got was well worth it...A gift from heaven.
Wednesday, March 13, 2019
Happy Birthday Amby
He will turn 102 on April the 21st. As St. Patrick's Day is today, I hope that San Diego will honor you with a Schindler Day, and your number 24 hang on every flag pole.
"George, I was the best athlete to come out of San Diego, and
became the California Athlete of the Year for 1933 and 1934."
From the summers of 2006 to 2008 Schindler and I lunched together either at the South Coast Grill off the Hermosa Beach strand. Of course we began the day in his Torrance den before ambling off to a restaurant.
I worked the microfilm computers mainly at the Central Library in Los Angeles as well as the libraries in Santa Monica and his birth city, San Diego.
My folks subscribed to four different Los Angles papers, of course at different times. I needed to embellish and verify his many stories, and so became engrossed in the events of the thirties.
I became excited when to see the writers who helped me learn to read, since school never could. One story caught my eye from a 1936 edition of the Herald and Express.
Sid Ziff of the Herald and Express wrote an article that what it takes to become a great athlete or phenomenon. In one of his columns in 1936, he writes about Li'l Ambys work ethic and athletic ability.
" Ambrose Schindler carried a paper route in San Diego. One afternoon, the San Diego High team came to Occidental for a track meet without Schindler who had to deliver his paper route...but Schindler showed up later in his battered Roadster blowing smoke...He won the high jump with a jump of 6 feet 2 inches."
His story will change the lives of anybody that reads it. It gave mine a new beginning. The Trojans from the classes of the late thirties will come alive again if not in person than in spirit.
Remember that he became the 1940 Pasadena Rose Bowl Player of the Game and also the Chicago All Star Player of the game the same year
The Pop Corn is ripe for eating and I have splashed gobs of butter on it. The story will be made into a play and movie
Schindler as told to me: "The race between the rabbit and the turtle was won by the hair. It had a purpose.
Tuesday, March 12, 2019
A Strawberry for Mel
"Brought you some fresh strawberries. Bought them from Whole Foods, and just picked."
Mel lies in room 135 B. It is in the rear of the Wax Museum on Florida Street in Surf City. It is called the Sea Cliff Health Center and is a ;prominent nursing home in Huntington Beach.
Mel attempts to arise and does on the second try. No longer does he resembled the brother that came here almost two years ago from the Huntington Hospital. He is slim and can barely sit up in bed. I have been his advocate for over ten years now. It is not a miracle he is alive. I have supplemented his diet with fruit and meat.
"Also got you Panda Express." Mel smiles. In bed one, Charles lies flat and complains The 86 year old wishes to rise. He is big with size thirteen feet
"Help me up!" Charles explodes in anger. Mel is legally blind but the thought of eating Panda has juiced his appetite for life
"You been away two weeks. Thought you might be in hospital."
I take a fold up chair from closet as he had enough vision to dig into hit orange chicken, chow mien and rice. He smiles. I set a basket of $2.99 big and bright red strawberries on his food table.
He grabs one and places it in his mouth. Again he smiles
"Wow George these are real good."
He continues to eat and with a new found gusto. In bed one he continues to get out of bed, but without any success. Mel is upset.
"They promised to come and take me. My teeth still hurt." He has had the tooth decay for over six on months and has only four biting teeth left. I feel like singing, and begin to sing a Eddie Fisher song
If I ever needed love, I need it...All of a sudden bed one finishes the song. Bed one is happy now as one song follows another. The forty year sailor in bed one must know thousands of songs Mel joins in as he is almost finished with the food. He with Charles sings another Fisher ditty.
"Oh My Papa...to me he was so wonderful..." Well we jammed for about thirty more minutes. A few other patron entered and joined us.
I needed to get Mel outside. The Patron seldom, if ever, eat fresh fruit or sit under the sun. Much thinner now with less energy, He follows me to the patio area in the back. He needs help to find a chair. I don't know how much medication he takes now, but Norco has certainly slowed him down. Mel continues to sing but wishes to return to soon. No longer bulky, he can no longer withstand cold weather, and rain drops begin to all on hsi head. He pants keep falling down as we head to the front office where he attempts to get ten singles from his account. He has employees go to the coke dispenser every day.
We walk back to room 135 and he finds his bed. He thanks me and smiles.
It is going on four and the thought of waiting for buses in the rain causes me to walk the two miles to my apartment. I never buy fruit at Whole Foods but the smell of freshly picked juicy strawberries could not be ignored.
Mel lies in room 135 B. It is in the rear of the Wax Museum on Florida Street in Surf City. It is called the Sea Cliff Health Center and is a ;prominent nursing home in Huntington Beach.
Mel attempts to arise and does on the second try. No longer does he resembled the brother that came here almost two years ago from the Huntington Hospital. He is slim and can barely sit up in bed. I have been his advocate for over ten years now. It is not a miracle he is alive. I have supplemented his diet with fruit and meat.
"Also got you Panda Express." Mel smiles. In bed one, Charles lies flat and complains The 86 year old wishes to rise. He is big with size thirteen feet
"Help me up!" Charles explodes in anger. Mel is legally blind but the thought of eating Panda has juiced his appetite for life
"You been away two weeks. Thought you might be in hospital."
I take a fold up chair from closet as he had enough vision to dig into hit orange chicken, chow mien and rice. He smiles. I set a basket of $2.99 big and bright red strawberries on his food table.
He grabs one and places it in his mouth. Again he smiles
"Wow George these are real good."
He continues to eat and with a new found gusto. In bed one he continues to get out of bed, but without any success. Mel is upset.
"They promised to come and take me. My teeth still hurt." He has had the tooth decay for over six on months and has only four biting teeth left. I feel like singing, and begin to sing a Eddie Fisher song
If I ever needed love, I need it...All of a sudden bed one finishes the song. Bed one is happy now as one song follows another. The forty year sailor in bed one must know thousands of songs Mel joins in as he is almost finished with the food. He with Charles sings another Fisher ditty.
"Oh My Papa...to me he was so wonderful..." Well we jammed for about thirty more minutes. A few other patron entered and joined us.
I needed to get Mel outside. The Patron seldom, if ever, eat fresh fruit or sit under the sun. Much thinner now with less energy, He follows me to the patio area in the back. He needs help to find a chair. I don't know how much medication he takes now, but Norco has certainly slowed him down. Mel continues to sing but wishes to return to soon. No longer bulky, he can no longer withstand cold weather, and rain drops begin to all on hsi head. He pants keep falling down as we head to the front office where he attempts to get ten singles from his account. He has employees go to the coke dispenser every day.
We walk back to room 135 and he finds his bed. He thanks me and smiles.
It is going on four and the thought of waiting for buses in the rain causes me to walk the two miles to my apartment. I never buy fruit at Whole Foods but the smell of freshly picked juicy strawberries could not be ignored.
Wednesday, March 6, 2019
Cruisin' San Diego with George: Oh What a Beautiful Morning
Cruisin' San Diego with George: Oh What a Beautiful Morning: In the last blog, I had been assaulted at the Beverly Hills Library and somehow, misplaced my Qbar inhaler. I made it back to my apartment i...
Oh What a Beautiful Morning
In the last blog, I had been assaulted at the Beverly Hills Library and somehow, misplaced my Qbar inhaler. I made it back to my apartment in Surf City on a Thursday. I was mad as hell since not only did I not have my medication, but without it, my life was in His hands. The next morning, I cabbed it to the Beach Kaiser. At the pickup window, a pharmacist told me it was not ready...and it would cost one hundred dollars for a refill. Now one on a strict budget knew that this medication, was a must -- even if I would have to remove the Franklin from my budget.
"When can I reorder this medication without the stiff penalty of a one hundred dollar co-pay?
"Ah, don't know...you can pick it up in ten minutes." I saw my name on the screen and went to window one to pick it up. Supervisor Tran (not his name) was helping another patron.
"I asked the new pharmacist the same question without any answer. I wished to know when I could refill the Qbar...no big deal but here it was. I asked the supervising pharmacist the same quetion and told Tran that we should go to his office in the rear.
I asked the supervisor the same question and why did the price double on me.
"Don't know...ask membership maybe they do!"
We interrupted each and he began to stammer. He kept on repeating me. He refused to sign a paper as to the one hundred dollar amount. I had trouble communicating with him since most Vietnamese treat English as their second language.
"Are you threatening me!"
I knew he wished me to react but I am not so dumb. I kill with my fingers as you can readily see.
It felt good to become more assertive since I am not quite eighty. Whenever there is bullshit in my life, I tell the opposition to pick it or else. I told Tran that I would see to it that he is fired.
As soon as I left with my two medications, and walked out the door, I saw the number 76 bus on Talbert and decided to go to the Surf City Senior Center. I was in luck and it was a Friday so I had a chance to play their grand piano. A few ladies sat to listen, and one tapped me on the shoulder.
"Sir, you are real good. Do you play every Friday?...All you need is a tux and I will pay to see you."
I played a few show melodies like Oh what a Beautiful Morning and my mood changed It flet good taking two buses home but by that time I was all worn out. .
"When can I reorder this medication without the stiff penalty of a one hundred dollar co-pay?
"Ah, don't know...you can pick it up in ten minutes." I saw my name on the screen and went to window one to pick it up. Supervisor Tran (not his name) was helping another patron.
"I asked the new pharmacist the same question without any answer. I wished to know when I could refill the Qbar...no big deal but here it was. I asked the supervising pharmacist the same quetion and told Tran that we should go to his office in the rear.
I asked the supervisor the same question and why did the price double on me.
"Don't know...ask membership maybe they do!"
We interrupted each and he began to stammer. He kept on repeating me. He refused to sign a paper as to the one hundred dollar amount. I had trouble communicating with him since most Vietnamese treat English as their second language.
"Are you threatening me!"
I knew he wished me to react but I am not so dumb. I kill with my fingers as you can readily see.
It felt good to become more assertive since I am not quite eighty. Whenever there is bullshit in my life, I tell the opposition to pick it or else. I told Tran that I would see to it that he is fired.
As soon as I left with my two medications, and walked out the door, I saw the number 76 bus on Talbert and decided to go to the Surf City Senior Center. I was in luck and it was a Friday so I had a chance to play their grand piano. A few ladies sat to listen, and one tapped me on the shoulder.
"Sir, you are real good. Do you play every Friday?...All you need is a tux and I will pay to see you."
I played a few show melodies like Oh what a Beautiful Morning and my mood changed It flet good taking two buses home but by that time I was all worn out. .
Tuesday, March 5, 2019
Assaulted in the Beverly Hills Library
Feeling quite good at not quite eighty years old, I waltzed down Beverly Drive on the 27th of February. A crisp beautiful morning greeted me, and why not says I, think I'll dip into Nate N Al's for a bowl of Matzo Ball soup It was eight o'clock and the Beverly Hills Library would open at nine thirty - my destination.
As usual, I had visited my God Daughter Li'l Nell for a few days inside Beverly Wood. Unlike her Mom Karen, I loved reading to her. I had checked out a children's book Poops from the Roxbury Senior Center Library for Children. She grabbed the book from me and began to read it herself, mimicking me. She is my energy bar.
Nate and Al's was half busy as I motioned to the corner seat in the back, and the hostess smiled and waved me on. A mother with her child sat next to me. She must have had an enormous appetite as she ordered everything on the menu. While her daughter peered out on Beverly Drive, she watched something on her smart phone. The assistant waiter came my way.
"Would you like some coffee?"
"No, but thanks. Would like some pickles though," My grandma Goldberg always had a pickle barrel outside at her Holt address. We celebrated the Sabbath in those days of yesteryear. She was one hell of a cook.
I took out my book about Lore Nelson and Trafalgar and began to read it. The noise from the smart phone bothered me so I turned the maiden next to me.
"What you watching?"
"The Trump hearing. My God, he is in real trouble now...Do you wish to know what the inquiry uncovered?"
"No, I am an historian and have studied how Hitler came to power. But thanks. Here is a card about a famous U.S.C. football player.
She thanked me and began to look the name of Schindler up. The waiter came to my table.
"Sorry, need a menu?"
"No, know what I want. A bowl of Matzo Ball soup and a couple of toasted rye breads."
The food was served up a few minutes later. I took my time to butter up my toast and put lathers of packaged jelly over the butter. I then mangled and tore up the toast in my mouth until ready to swallow. Not having any upper teeth make it hared to swallow...and it you think it is hard on me just think of the trouble my teeth need to go through.
I paid the ten dollar bill and left two for the server. I felt satisfied and enjoyed the ambiance of Little Santa Monica until I arrived at the sanctuary, the Beverly Hills Library. I went to the computers and took the the corner one. All alone now, I never felt so good. I took out a cord that would allow me to download pictures from my cell phone....and then all hell broke loose
Somebody sat nest to me, made noise like an laughing elephant and banged the keyboard. <u serenity unhinged, I took my nap sack to a computer far away from the idiot who stole my mood and serenity. I felt assaulted
My concentration now was altered but with the held of Juan from the computer office, I was able to download pictures from my cell phone. Tired and upset, i left the library and trickled down Crescent Drive towards Whole Foods It was then that I discovered that my back up inhaler was gone.
I turned my nap sack upside down...but I could not find the Qbar inhaler. With a little bit of luck I did not need to use it while in Los Angels
As usual, I had visited my God Daughter Li'l Nell for a few days inside Beverly Wood. Unlike her Mom Karen, I loved reading to her. I had checked out a children's book Poops from the Roxbury Senior Center Library for Children. She grabbed the book from me and began to read it herself, mimicking me. She is my energy bar.
Nate and Al's was half busy as I motioned to the corner seat in the back, and the hostess smiled and waved me on. A mother with her child sat next to me. She must have had an enormous appetite as she ordered everything on the menu. While her daughter peered out on Beverly Drive, she watched something on her smart phone. The assistant waiter came my way.
"Would you like some coffee?"
"No, but thanks. Would like some pickles though," My grandma Goldberg always had a pickle barrel outside at her Holt address. We celebrated the Sabbath in those days of yesteryear. She was one hell of a cook.
I took out my book about Lore Nelson and Trafalgar and began to read it. The noise from the smart phone bothered me so I turned the maiden next to me.
"What you watching?"
"The Trump hearing. My God, he is in real trouble now...Do you wish to know what the inquiry uncovered?"
"No, I am an historian and have studied how Hitler came to power. But thanks. Here is a card about a famous U.S.C. football player.
She thanked me and began to look the name of Schindler up. The waiter came to my table.
"Sorry, need a menu?"
"No, know what I want. A bowl of Matzo Ball soup and a couple of toasted rye breads."
The food was served up a few minutes later. I took my time to butter up my toast and put lathers of packaged jelly over the butter. I then mangled and tore up the toast in my mouth until ready to swallow. Not having any upper teeth make it hared to swallow...and it you think it is hard on me just think of the trouble my teeth need to go through.
I paid the ten dollar bill and left two for the server. I felt satisfied and enjoyed the ambiance of Little Santa Monica until I arrived at the sanctuary, the Beverly Hills Library. I went to the computers and took the the corner one. All alone now, I never felt so good. I took out a cord that would allow me to download pictures from my cell phone....and then all hell broke loose
Somebody sat nest to me, made noise like an laughing elephant and banged the keyboard. <u serenity unhinged, I took my nap sack to a computer far away from the idiot who stole my mood and serenity. I felt assaulted
My concentration now was altered but with the held of Juan from the computer office, I was able to download pictures from my cell phone. Tired and upset, i left the library and trickled down Crescent Drive towards Whole Foods It was then that I discovered that my back up inhaler was gone.
I turned my nap sack upside down...but I could not find the Qbar inhaler. With a little bit of luck I did not need to use it while in Los Angels
Tuesday, February 26, 2019
The Flavor of Los Angeles
It felt good to leave the cold windy rains of Surf City. Too many of the residents e I find over-nourished, under-educated , and racist. A bus driver on Saturday saw a truck with two American flags, but instead of red, white and blue the colors were red, white and black. a couple of months ago, I saw a Hitler look alike while checking out of Von's on Atlantic and Magnolia
On an early Monday, I boarded the almost empty #33 for Buena Park and La Palma. I desperately needed a change of scenery and cleaner air, or Los Angeles. It took about forty minutes, and to my left I saw the rides of Knott's Berry farms. It only took about five minutes to be picked up by the L.A. 460 Metro Bus that picked me up on La Palma.
Those who have read my blog know that taking the Long Beach Blue Line is not for the frail and old - and now since the line is being refitted, I refuse to sit with the dirt, grime and intolerable behavior of patrons who ride in from Long Beach. During this remodeling, they can ride for free. That is why I find myself now taking a circular route to downtown Los Angeles
Like a serpent, the bus skirted the towns of La Mirada, and Norwalk, sticking mainly to Firestone and Imperial before reaching the large Transit Center where many Patrons descended and connected with the Green Line. Many passengers boarded here and I found many were laborers or workers who exhibited proper behavior.
After a five minute break, the bus departed but this time meandered on the 105 freeway and stuck to a bus lane. It paralleled the route of the Green Line. The Green Line connected with the Blue and and the L.A. airport shuttle and finally Redondo Beach. I have been on this line and felt intimidated by many passengers who climb aboard with bikes, carts, and trash bags. Not all, but many exhibit behavior that is so obnoxious, that I can't print it since this computer will break down.
So Far So Good. I was smart enough not to drink any Green Tea, and my bladder felt fine halfway to Los Angeles. Several girls were dolling up their fine faces while others amused themselves with their smart phones. Not quite eighty, I wished to witness the changing of the scenery as my able and kind bus drive said good-by to the 105 and hello to the Harbor Freeway.
The bus traveled in a special bus lane that stopped on Manchester to pick up a few passenegers before carrying on to its last leg and getting off on Expo and Flower. Two wished to get to the Expo line for Santa Monica but I wished to go all the way to Figueroa and Fifth Street
"Thank you again and have a great day." The bus driver was all smiles and showed an overabundance of compassion for here charges. and it didn't hurt that she spoke and understood English.
My town, L.A , was waking up. The cold winds from the ocean circled the tall buildings. It was a clear blue day. A biker almost hit me, but the sound and the color of the city exited me. My steps were fast and sure as I avoided some construction and now headed to Hope Street and Walked North to the South Wing of the Central Library
Now inside the library I hurried to the bathroom on the First Floor and waited for a homeless chap to finish brushing his teeth before taking the elevator to the fourth and lowest floor to order a Herald and Express micro films of December of 1939.
As soon as I placed the film and turned on the machine my mind went into orbit A Neo-Nazi leader was convicted do to the fine torts of Tom Dewey who would run for president and Russian had invaded Finland...But what caught my eye was a touchdown catch by Jackie Robinson
thrown by Kenny Washington. U.C.L.A after beating the Cougars now hoped to get into the 1940 Rose Bowl...'
After spending a couple of hours glued to the films, and re energizing my depleted body with Panda Express on the first floor. I took my body back to Hope. Hooked to a long silver cover a food truck caught my eye. I began to dance to the Mariachi music as several people were buying a nine dollar Mexican combo.
"Ho much for the doggies."
"Six dollars,: was his the replay of the well dressed and spoken owner as his sidekick grilled more meat and veggies on his skillet. A l;ady across from me waited for her eight dollar taco I could see that this vendor did all right. I began o walk towards Seventh and the Metro Station I heard somebodies feet behind me.
"The lady over there has bought you a hot dog...Do you wish everything on it?"
'You got it," while I turned and hitched up my pants to appear not a slouch.
Now I have tasted hot dogs before but this one was like a bolt out of the sky. I cradled the bun as if there was a new baby inside and chewed each succulent bite. A homeless man came towards me and as if the kind lady told me that one good turn deserves another, I told the man carrying a book with a loud limp t stop .
"Can I buy you a dog?"
"Yes sir. Thanks..bad luck every since Katrina in New Orleans...Live at a shelter down the street..Where is the unemployment office?
I gave a ten to the lunch truck man and he returned a fiver to me. I told the man I would pray for him as the last piece of hot dog I finally digested
On an early Monday, I boarded the almost empty #33 for Buena Park and La Palma. I desperately needed a change of scenery and cleaner air, or Los Angeles. It took about forty minutes, and to my left I saw the rides of Knott's Berry farms. It only took about five minutes to be picked up by the L.A. 460 Metro Bus that picked me up on La Palma.
Those who have read my blog know that taking the Long Beach Blue Line is not for the frail and old - and now since the line is being refitted, I refuse to sit with the dirt, grime and intolerable behavior of patrons who ride in from Long Beach. During this remodeling, they can ride for free. That is why I find myself now taking a circular route to downtown Los Angeles
Like a serpent, the bus skirted the towns of La Mirada, and Norwalk, sticking mainly to Firestone and Imperial before reaching the large Transit Center where many Patrons descended and connected with the Green Line. Many passengers boarded here and I found many were laborers or workers who exhibited proper behavior.
After a five minute break, the bus departed but this time meandered on the 105 freeway and stuck to a bus lane. It paralleled the route of the Green Line. The Green Line connected with the Blue and and the L.A. airport shuttle and finally Redondo Beach. I have been on this line and felt intimidated by many passengers who climb aboard with bikes, carts, and trash bags. Not all, but many exhibit behavior that is so obnoxious, that I can't print it since this computer will break down.
So Far So Good. I was smart enough not to drink any Green Tea, and my bladder felt fine halfway to Los Angeles. Several girls were dolling up their fine faces while others amused themselves with their smart phones. Not quite eighty, I wished to witness the changing of the scenery as my able and kind bus drive said good-by to the 105 and hello to the Harbor Freeway.
The bus traveled in a special bus lane that stopped on Manchester to pick up a few passenegers before carrying on to its last leg and getting off on Expo and Flower. Two wished to get to the Expo line for Santa Monica but I wished to go all the way to Figueroa and Fifth Street
"Thank you again and have a great day." The bus driver was all smiles and showed an overabundance of compassion for here charges. and it didn't hurt that she spoke and understood English.
My town, L.A , was waking up. The cold winds from the ocean circled the tall buildings. It was a clear blue day. A biker almost hit me, but the sound and the color of the city exited me. My steps were fast and sure as I avoided some construction and now headed to Hope Street and Walked North to the South Wing of the Central Library
Now inside the library I hurried to the bathroom on the First Floor and waited for a homeless chap to finish brushing his teeth before taking the elevator to the fourth and lowest floor to order a Herald and Express micro films of December of 1939.
As soon as I placed the film and turned on the machine my mind went into orbit A Neo-Nazi leader was convicted do to the fine torts of Tom Dewey who would run for president and Russian had invaded Finland...But what caught my eye was a touchdown catch by Jackie Robinson
thrown by Kenny Washington. U.C.L.A after beating the Cougars now hoped to get into the 1940 Rose Bowl...'
After spending a couple of hours glued to the films, and re energizing my depleted body with Panda Express on the first floor. I took my body back to Hope. Hooked to a long silver cover a food truck caught my eye. I began to dance to the Mariachi music as several people were buying a nine dollar Mexican combo.
"Ho much for the doggies."
"Six dollars,: was his the replay of the well dressed and spoken owner as his sidekick grilled more meat and veggies on his skillet. A l;ady across from me waited for her eight dollar taco I could see that this vendor did all right. I began o walk towards Seventh and the Metro Station I heard somebodies feet behind me.
"The lady over there has bought you a hot dog...Do you wish everything on it?"
'You got it," while I turned and hitched up my pants to appear not a slouch.
Now I have tasted hot dogs before but this one was like a bolt out of the sky. I cradled the bun as if there was a new baby inside and chewed each succulent bite. A homeless man came towards me and as if the kind lady told me that one good turn deserves another, I told the man carrying a book with a loud limp t stop .
"Can I buy you a dog?"
"Yes sir. Thanks..bad luck every since Katrina in New Orleans...Live at a shelter down the street..Where is the unemployment office?
I gave a ten to the lunch truck man and he returned a fiver to me. I told the man I would pray for him as the last piece of hot dog I finally digested
Wednesday, February 20, 2019
a visit to the wax museum
The sun was out, and how, on President's Day. After a nice brunch at Whole Foods, I took the 29 bus to Mel's stop, on Main. I made one stop at Panda to get some grub for my brother Mel. It was going on One O'clock.
I needed a stop so I parked myself in front of the Five Points Senior Apartments. Crazy Helen had thrown me out over one year ago, perhaps because she had been implicated in the theft of my brother's car. I felt great that Mel was still alive and the last thread to my past and parents. I also hoped that Mel had been to the dentist to remove his infected teeth. I call the long winding Sea Cliff the Bates Motel. I believe that is the motel in the movie Psycho.
After I signed sanitized my hands, and placed a mask over my face, I walked to station four in the back of what I call the Wax Museum. Several patrons sat in the halls as I made my way to his room, 135 B. Mel was sitting in bed and tray sat on a stand.
"That you George...Glad you made it..." Mel is legally blind due to a mistake by a Vietnamese eye doctor who treated him for Glaucoma ten years ago.
"Got you Panda Mel...ah"
"George, you eat my lunch and bring the Orange Chicken over here..."
In front of Mel's bed is a walker with his closet behind that. He has a patio that looks out into an empty courtyard. I placed his tray of Sheppard's Pie on top of his drawers. I gave him a fork and directed it to the meal. Mel had lost a lot of weight. His unruly hair did not bother me, but it was his hollow face on top of a quivering jaw.
"Mel, I see that your teeth are still there..." Mel was in some discomfort and I knew better than to go to staff but I did. The social worker's door was open. I knew better than to speak to a was manikin, and as usual Social Worker Chris laughed and left. She told me that Mel had refused to go to the dentist which i knew was a lie.
"George, I refused to go to the skin doctor and not the dentist...George is there any food left?
"Chucks friend brought me a Tri-tip steak...His friends are wonderful to me.
After lunch, I told him to get his walker and follow me. Mel could barely see now. I wonderedif he had been to his eye doctor for shots or as the nurse in station four told me, only the doctor can schedule an appointment. This time, Mel could barely walk. Was he getting enough food? I had told Amber at rehab in the basement that Mel needed his teeth taken care of. Unlike Christy they listened to me. Mel wished to walk some more but the assistant wished to change his diaper and I was getting madder by the minute. I told Mel good by and knew I needed about one hour sun.
That night I took two blood pressure pills and had trouble negotiating the day that followed. Mel's doctor during these events is a Mr. Joseph Nasser, a governor of the Huntington Beach Hospital on Beach.
Nuts and Bolts for today: Make sure to get the health and legal rights turned over to you if you too need to take a loved one to one of these Wax Museums.
I needed a stop so I parked myself in front of the Five Points Senior Apartments. Crazy Helen had thrown me out over one year ago, perhaps because she had been implicated in the theft of my brother's car. I felt great that Mel was still alive and the last thread to my past and parents. I also hoped that Mel had been to the dentist to remove his infected teeth. I call the long winding Sea Cliff the Bates Motel. I believe that is the motel in the movie Psycho.
After I signed sanitized my hands, and placed a mask over my face, I walked to station four in the back of what I call the Wax Museum. Several patrons sat in the halls as I made my way to his room, 135 B. Mel was sitting in bed and tray sat on a stand.
"That you George...Glad you made it..." Mel is legally blind due to a mistake by a Vietnamese eye doctor who treated him for Glaucoma ten years ago.
"Got you Panda Mel...ah"
"George, you eat my lunch and bring the Orange Chicken over here..."
In front of Mel's bed is a walker with his closet behind that. He has a patio that looks out into an empty courtyard. I placed his tray of Sheppard's Pie on top of his drawers. I gave him a fork and directed it to the meal. Mel had lost a lot of weight. His unruly hair did not bother me, but it was his hollow face on top of a quivering jaw.
"Mel, I see that your teeth are still there..." Mel was in some discomfort and I knew better than to go to staff but I did. The social worker's door was open. I knew better than to speak to a was manikin, and as usual Social Worker Chris laughed and left. She told me that Mel had refused to go to the dentist which i knew was a lie.
"George, I refused to go to the skin doctor and not the dentist...George is there any food left?
"Chucks friend brought me a Tri-tip steak...His friends are wonderful to me.
After lunch, I told him to get his walker and follow me. Mel could barely see now. I wonderedif he had been to his eye doctor for shots or as the nurse in station four told me, only the doctor can schedule an appointment. This time, Mel could barely walk. Was he getting enough food? I had told Amber at rehab in the basement that Mel needed his teeth taken care of. Unlike Christy they listened to me. Mel wished to walk some more but the assistant wished to change his diaper and I was getting madder by the minute. I told Mel good by and knew I needed about one hour sun.
That night I took two blood pressure pills and had trouble negotiating the day that followed. Mel's doctor during these events is a Mr. Joseph Nasser, a governor of the Huntington Beach Hospital on Beach.
Nuts and Bolts for today: Make sure to get the health and legal rights turned over to you if you too need to take a loved one to one of these Wax Museums.
Love on the #29 bus.
Needed a few quarters for the bus. My Access card entitles me to bus rides for one quarter. I picked up the #33 a few blocks from my apartment and rode with the Boat People to Endinger. I crossed the street and entered the Green Market. I just can's live without apples and oranges each day. It cost four and change for the three apples, two oranges, a tomato and a large ginger root. At Ralph's the cost would have cost double ( The Boat People survived and re-re-rooted in Westminster after the Vietnamese War.)
I crossed the street for the number 70 out of Santa Ana that would take me to Whole Foods for my brunch. I sat down on the outside bench and rearranged my veggies and fruit inside my nap sack. Then...a ..I heard a voice...A lady spoke to me from under the bus canape.
"Sir, something is loose in the back of your pants."
"ah...ah.." I looked and discovered a piece of toilet paper that covered the back pocket.
"Thank you...You know at my age you can't be too sure."
I had the usual at Whole Foods, various greens, artichoke hearts, fig leaves and almond chips. I placed $5.98 cents worth inside the green little box, folded it, and took it to the check out line. Leisurely, I took my time and read some football stuff while I downed the rabbit food bolstered with three, exactly three slices of beacon.
Beside the south facing window, my table faced the window. The hot sun felt too good as I got ready for the day at the downtown library. At ten, I packed up and walked to the Stark bus stop. It felt so good to walk with the sun following me.
It took over thirty minutes for the 29 bus but who cared. The sun was making love to me. I got on with a toothless lady and a many holding a sports bag. I sat back and enjoyed the view. I still get excited when on a bus. At about Garfield a young girl wearing a colorful sweater and long tinted hair under a cotton scarf not only got on, but sat across from me.
Now I have never seen an actual angel but she looked like one. Her head owned large dimpled cheeks with a permanent smile. Her dark eyes said, "take me." Now there was something about her that made me become bashful. I placed back on my sun glasses.
Do I know her...where have I seen her before... The bus now made a right on P.C.H. She remained on the bus while I pulled the rip cord. My stop on First was coming up. She also pulled the the cord that tell the bus driver to stop at the next bus stop.
"Might...ah might your name be ah Ana..?"
"Yes." She looked right into my eyes with a charm I had never seen before
"You look so much happier and are still appealing.
Her smile told me that she might be still available. She got off and removed her bike from the rack while I made my way down Orange and the Main Street Library
Nuts and Bolts for today: Like the Hurts commercial, I let them do the driving while I fall in love with the scenery
I crossed the street for the number 70 out of Santa Ana that would take me to Whole Foods for my brunch. I sat down on the outside bench and rearranged my veggies and fruit inside my nap sack. Then...a ..I heard a voice...A lady spoke to me from under the bus canape.
"Sir, something is loose in the back of your pants."
"ah...ah.." I looked and discovered a piece of toilet paper that covered the back pocket.
"Thank you...You know at my age you can't be too sure."
I had the usual at Whole Foods, various greens, artichoke hearts, fig leaves and almond chips. I placed $5.98 cents worth inside the green little box, folded it, and took it to the check out line. Leisurely, I took my time and read some football stuff while I downed the rabbit food bolstered with three, exactly three slices of beacon.
Beside the south facing window, my table faced the window. The hot sun felt too good as I got ready for the day at the downtown library. At ten, I packed up and walked to the Stark bus stop. It felt so good to walk with the sun following me.
It took over thirty minutes for the 29 bus but who cared. The sun was making love to me. I got on with a toothless lady and a many holding a sports bag. I sat back and enjoyed the view. I still get excited when on a bus. At about Garfield a young girl wearing a colorful sweater and long tinted hair under a cotton scarf not only got on, but sat across from me.
Now I have never seen an actual angel but she looked like one. Her head owned large dimpled cheeks with a permanent smile. Her dark eyes said, "take me." Now there was something about her that made me become bashful. I placed back on my sun glasses.
Do I know her...where have I seen her before... The bus now made a right on P.C.H. She remained on the bus while I pulled the rip cord. My stop on First was coming up. She also pulled the the cord that tell the bus driver to stop at the next bus stop.
"Might...ah might your name be ah Ana..?"
"Yes." She looked right into my eyes with a charm I had never seen before
"You look so much happier and are still appealing.
Her smile told me that she might be still available. She got off and removed her bike from the rack while I made my way down Orange and the Main Street Library
Nuts and Bolts for today: Like the Hurts commercial, I let them do the driving while I fall in love with the scenery
Tuesday, February 19, 2019
Li'll Nell at Roxbury Park
Li'll Nell grabbed my little finger as we walked to Roxbury Park. . It was a clear cold sunny day in Beverly Hills. This time, I did not need to bend down for her to grab my little finger. She had just turned two and was at the eight percentile of her age group. As always she disdains the stroller and demands to walk.
Karen, her mother, would pick her up later from the park. For the first time in a week. the rain took a day off. A bit cold, it felt good to have my God Daughter holding on...in fact it seemed to provide me with new found energy. Li'll Nell was born a few miles from here, at Kaiser Permanente on La Cienega on the last day of January. She has a radiant smile and long dark brown hair. Everybody raves at the deep brown long eye brows. We crossed a street and entered the Roxbury Senior Center. I needed to return a book called the The Crazy Two's.
She dislodged my hand an ran after a squirrel that scampered up a fir tree and then set her eyes on the sand box area close to the metered parking lot. Bit first L'll Nell pointed to her shoe. I removed her gold colored shoes and she eagerly began to play in the sand with the toys she received for her second birthday.
Yes it was cold but the hot sun made me remove my sweat shirt. Nell began to talk to her toys as she built them shelter with the sand. The full hot sun must have done wonders for her and my mood. She ignored me for several minutes while she engaged a young kid who shared his water bucket with her.
Many years ago, my two daughters played at Roxbury Park. In fact, my Dad watched with glee as his grandson took soccer lessons and played in a junior league. It seemed like yesterday that I was pushing them on the swings. It was then I heard a familiar noise. It was the sound of an ice cream truck.
Pictures of various ice cream bars were painted on the side of the truck. I picked her up and she pointed to the yellow Popsicle. The kind driver threw in a bottled water with the yellow Popsicle and fudge bar that I ordered
She grabbed the treat with two hands after I had pinched out an opening. We returned to the sand box bench. A vision of me waiting for the Good Humor truck came into view. I was only about five years old when Mom had given me a dime for an ice cream. We were living on Holt and Airdrome in West L.A.
At exactly four o'clock I heard the welcome song to the tune of Mary Had a Little Lamb. I walked across the empty street and the white truck stopped for me.
"Hi George...Let me get what you want. Here is your chocolate chip ice cream cup." I took the cup and sat down on our front porch I opened the lip of the cup and sampled the treat using a small flat wooden spoon....and then..."
"Papa, want to go back to the sand." She handed me the wrapping and stick and stuck her feet back into the cold sand box Just then I felt a knock on my back. It was Karen, who came just in time as Nell began to get fussy, and of course needed a nap and nourishment.
Nuts and Bolts for Today: Life is all bout holding hands, or if a bit little, fingers. You need to rry it sometimes
Karen, her mother, would pick her up later from the park. For the first time in a week. the rain took a day off. A bit cold, it felt good to have my God Daughter holding on...in fact it seemed to provide me with new found energy. Li'll Nell was born a few miles from here, at Kaiser Permanente on La Cienega on the last day of January. She has a radiant smile and long dark brown hair. Everybody raves at the deep brown long eye brows. We crossed a street and entered the Roxbury Senior Center. I needed to return a book called the The Crazy Two's.
She dislodged my hand an ran after a squirrel that scampered up a fir tree and then set her eyes on the sand box area close to the metered parking lot. Bit first L'll Nell pointed to her shoe. I removed her gold colored shoes and she eagerly began to play in the sand with the toys she received for her second birthday.
Yes it was cold but the hot sun made me remove my sweat shirt. Nell began to talk to her toys as she built them shelter with the sand. The full hot sun must have done wonders for her and my mood. She ignored me for several minutes while she engaged a young kid who shared his water bucket with her.
Many years ago, my two daughters played at Roxbury Park. In fact, my Dad watched with glee as his grandson took soccer lessons and played in a junior league. It seemed like yesterday that I was pushing them on the swings. It was then I heard a familiar noise. It was the sound of an ice cream truck.
Pictures of various ice cream bars were painted on the side of the truck. I picked her up and she pointed to the yellow Popsicle. The kind driver threw in a bottled water with the yellow Popsicle and fudge bar that I ordered
She grabbed the treat with two hands after I had pinched out an opening. We returned to the sand box bench. A vision of me waiting for the Good Humor truck came into view. I was only about five years old when Mom had given me a dime for an ice cream. We were living on Holt and Airdrome in West L.A.
At exactly four o'clock I heard the welcome song to the tune of Mary Had a Little Lamb. I walked across the empty street and the white truck stopped for me.
"Hi George...Let me get what you want. Here is your chocolate chip ice cream cup." I took the cup and sat down on our front porch I opened the lip of the cup and sampled the treat using a small flat wooden spoon....and then..."
"Papa, want to go back to the sand." She handed me the wrapping and stick and stuck her feet back into the cold sand box Just then I felt a knock on my back. It was Karen, who came just in time as Nell began to get fussy, and of course needed a nap and nourishment.
Nuts and Bolts for Today: Life is all bout holding hands, or if a bit little, fingers. You need to rry it sometimes
Thursday, February 7, 2019
My Trip to U.S.C.
Exhausted but happy to have made it to downtown without taking the . te No longer this year cam I take the Long Beach Blue Line to Los Angeles, since it is being scuttled for a better one. Yet those who chose to fix the train might have done better to fix the behavior of many of its riders who who jump on and off the tram to Los Angeles without paying.
On Wednesday, I took a different line. The #460 Metro took me downtown with only one glitz. I picked it up on La Palms after connecting from the #33. It took one hour and everything went perfect as the longer bus circled Alondra, Artesia, Norwalk and made touched on Firestone now and then.
A tall black middle aged drunk came on board at the Norwalk Transit Center. He cussed and hollered for the next twenty minutes. The smell of alcoholic fumes made me want to change my seat but there was none available. Instead I looked at our white washed mountains. Every time the train headed in an easterly direction, I could almost touch the white snow cones.
The 460 marched on through the commercial zone. Tracks and trucks competed for space as the 460 jumped on the Five and ran along its own Harbor Freeway lane until it got to San Pedro Street. We passed Staples and its host of stores and made a right on Figueroa on to Sixth Street where I got off.
So bitterly cold, my head felt separated from its body. Icicles hit my head as I made my way down Hope to the Central Library. The elevator took me down to floor four. Several homeless were exiting the bathroom. I ordered a microfilm and returned to the elevator. It is regrettable that many black have no home and that the cops react to fast - but any fool can see why.
After a Panda lunch this bear made it out of hibernation to look at microfilms of 1937. Yes this is what I just love to do - research the Trojans in the thirties. I had enough energy left to to take the Expo Blue Line to U.S.C. Unlike the Long Beach line I felt safe.
My sponsor at the U.S.C. library pulled two year books out of their safe and I looked over the pictures before I walked across the campus to the Wilson Building. On the fourth floor I walked to the Daily Trojan that opened at four o'clock.
I met Jonathon who gave me the papers E mail He seemed a bit reluctant but I was adamant this U.S.C. Paper wrote about my Schindler Story and the great teams of the thirties. Amby Schindler will turn 102 on April 21st and it is necessary to promote the book. He gave me the paper's e mail at multimedia.daily trojan@gmail.com.
U.S.C is a city within a city. Everyone is smiling, studying and in their own time zone. I returned to the Expo blue that made its way to La Cienega where I departed to take the 705 Vernon Bus to the Pico seven.
.
On Wednesday, I took a different line. The #460 Metro took me downtown with only one glitz. I picked it up on La Palms after connecting from the #33. It took one hour and everything went perfect as the longer bus circled Alondra, Artesia, Norwalk and made touched on Firestone now and then.
A tall black middle aged drunk came on board at the Norwalk Transit Center. He cussed and hollered for the next twenty minutes. The smell of alcoholic fumes made me want to change my seat but there was none available. Instead I looked at our white washed mountains. Every time the train headed in an easterly direction, I could almost touch the white snow cones.
The 460 marched on through the commercial zone. Tracks and trucks competed for space as the 460 jumped on the Five and ran along its own Harbor Freeway lane until it got to San Pedro Street. We passed Staples and its host of stores and made a right on Figueroa on to Sixth Street where I got off.
So bitterly cold, my head felt separated from its body. Icicles hit my head as I made my way down Hope to the Central Library. The elevator took me down to floor four. Several homeless were exiting the bathroom. I ordered a microfilm and returned to the elevator. It is regrettable that many black have no home and that the cops react to fast - but any fool can see why.
After a Panda lunch this bear made it out of hibernation to look at microfilms of 1937. Yes this is what I just love to do - research the Trojans in the thirties. I had enough energy left to to take the Expo Blue Line to U.S.C. Unlike the Long Beach line I felt safe.
My sponsor at the U.S.C. library pulled two year books out of their safe and I looked over the pictures before I walked across the campus to the Wilson Building. On the fourth floor I walked to the Daily Trojan that opened at four o'clock.
I met Jonathon who gave me the papers E mail He seemed a bit reluctant but I was adamant this U.S.C. Paper wrote about my Schindler Story and the great teams of the thirties. Amby Schindler will turn 102 on April 21st and it is necessary to promote the book. He gave me the paper's e mail at multimedia.daily trojan@gmail.com.
U.S.C is a city within a city. Everyone is smiling, studying and in their own time zone. I returned to the Expo blue that made its way to La Cienega where I departed to take the 705 Vernon Bus to the Pico seven.
.
Tuesday, February 5, 2019
A Bull Shit Super Bowl
I didn't know the shape my brothers Mel would be since his Super Bowl Team, the Rams, never showed up.
The 29 A bus took me to the Main Street Exit. From there, I walked to the street mall and the dollar store. I sorely needed paper towels and a white collar cleanser. But first I would buy my Brother Mel's favorite dinner, a Panda Express Orange Chicken with Chow Men and rice. It felt good to chat with my now happy Brother, who has been given a new chapter in his life.
For those new to my Blog, the Florida Sea Cliff Health Center is located two miles from downtown between Main and Garfield. Florida Street is known for senior living refuge as several apartments house old people like me.
After I signed in at the Crow's Next, I waked up the corridor to the third hallway and made a left at Nurses Station Number Four. Outside Mel's Suite 135 I saw a body. On Closer inspection, it was Mel's roommate. He lay on a hospital tram bed and didn't recognize me. It was Bed one's occupant less one hundred pounds.
Mel was lying in bed two. With nothing to do, he just lays there during the day. I set down my nap sack and umbrella and pulled out a poker chair.
"Hey Mel, brought you a Panda Express..."
"That you George,..just what I wanted...Needed it after that Bull Shit Super Bowl...Give me a minute, just had a hot chocolate and stomach is a bit unsettled."
Without a struggle, Mel sat up. His hair was unkempt but he smiled
"That game hat game really depressed me. That Gurney must have been injured And those commercials. Every time out there were many bull shit commercials."
Mel grabbed a fork and began to shovel the Chinese food into his palate He smiled.
"Just what I need...Did the Dodgers make any trades?'
"Not yet What have..."
Two nurses came into the room and attached bed one to a lift. They settled him in and he asked one to feed him His breathing was heavy and too fast. I knew that he would be going to the Super Bowl in Heaven with God as his catcher.
"Aren't these nurses cute?"
"We look like you one exclaimed."
"George my teeth are still giving me trouble, they hurt all the time and a dentist told me that they would be pulled soon."
I went to the Desk Jockey in station four.
"Can you tell me if Mel is scheduled for a tooth extraction. and does he no longer have a case worker?
'His insurance does not provide for a case worker...Need to talk to social worker....Been here three years so know what I am doing.
"Can I see his charts to see what he is being treated for?
I returned to Mel's room. He needed me to move the last tidbits to the center He had good coordination and his vision was good.
"Thanks a lot. Still walking and will get a shower on Tuesday. (More to Come.)
"We are not ready to be transparent, so says the Wax Museum on Florida Street which is located in the Twilight Zone
"
The 29 A bus took me to the Main Street Exit. From there, I walked to the street mall and the dollar store. I sorely needed paper towels and a white collar cleanser. But first I would buy my Brother Mel's favorite dinner, a Panda Express Orange Chicken with Chow Men and rice. It felt good to chat with my now happy Brother, who has been given a new chapter in his life.
For those new to my Blog, the Florida Sea Cliff Health Center is located two miles from downtown between Main and Garfield. Florida Street is known for senior living refuge as several apartments house old people like me.
After I signed in at the Crow's Next, I waked up the corridor to the third hallway and made a left at Nurses Station Number Four. Outside Mel's Suite 135 I saw a body. On Closer inspection, it was Mel's roommate. He lay on a hospital tram bed and didn't recognize me. It was Bed one's occupant less one hundred pounds.
Mel was lying in bed two. With nothing to do, he just lays there during the day. I set down my nap sack and umbrella and pulled out a poker chair.
"Hey Mel, brought you a Panda Express..."
"That you George,..just what I wanted...Needed it after that Bull Shit Super Bowl...Give me a minute, just had a hot chocolate and stomach is a bit unsettled."
Without a struggle, Mel sat up. His hair was unkempt but he smiled
"That game hat game really depressed me. That Gurney must have been injured And those commercials. Every time out there were many bull shit commercials."
Mel grabbed a fork and began to shovel the Chinese food into his palate He smiled.
"Just what I need...Did the Dodgers make any trades?'
"Not yet What have..."
Two nurses came into the room and attached bed one to a lift. They settled him in and he asked one to feed him His breathing was heavy and too fast. I knew that he would be going to the Super Bowl in Heaven with God as his catcher.
"Aren't these nurses cute?"
"We look like you one exclaimed."
"George my teeth are still giving me trouble, they hurt all the time and a dentist told me that they would be pulled soon."
I went to the Desk Jockey in station four.
"Can you tell me if Mel is scheduled for a tooth extraction. and does he no longer have a case worker?
'His insurance does not provide for a case worker...Need to talk to social worker....Been here three years so know what I am doing.
"Can I see his charts to see what he is being treated for?
I returned to Mel's room. He needed me to move the last tidbits to the center He had good coordination and his vision was good.
"Thanks a lot. Still walking and will get a shower on Tuesday. (More to Come.)
"We are not ready to be transparent, so says the Wax Museum on Florida Street which is located in the Twilight Zone
"
Power Outage in Surf City
It felt good to have cashed my retirement check at Wall Mart. Equity management requires my rent to be paid within three days, and that with a money order or cashier check. Our New Governor was correct, Surf City needs more housing, and much more. Restrains must be placed on the apartment owners or managers who have the option not providing you with a new lease.
I live at the Beach Wood Apartments on Magnolia and Garfield. at least my $1,700 apartment provides a roof over my head. As evidenced by the lease, Equity Management is aware of the mildew and has made sure that the resident is responsible for any or all of the smell. I am also aware that with Global Warming, it is a matter of time when the poison will exacerbate my already tinged lungs, so soon I will depart.
Surf City suffered through a perfect storm the past Saturday. At least the Lift took me to the Warner Avenue Synagogue. It felt great to pray and sing the hymns sung by my forefathers a long time ago. The threat of rain made many hesitant to take the long walk to the Synagogue, as a heavy downpour in the afternoon would make them wet on the return trip home. Jews are forbidden to walk on the Sabbath. I arrived at the Synagogue at nine o'clock, after drinking a coffee at Starbucks
The Kiddish was ample, what with herring, salmon, olives, salad, beans and cake to relax my stomach. With extra wine, I forgot about the windy cold windy rain. I didn't need to squeeze through to place food on my plate.
My Access lift was to come at 1:30. I put my beanie over my head and a cap over it. I picked up my golf umbrella and hear the voice of Joshua.
"You are the only smart one. We need to wait for the heavy downpour to end. Have a good day George."
Outside the Warner River had overflowed its banks. Too bad I had not worn galoshes. . I broad Jumped across the river and soaked my left tennis shoe, but made it to CVS. My lift driver was supposed to pick me up between one thirty and two. I stood by the overhang of the drug store and prayed that the lift would come, or plan two would be put in place.
It came and it felt good that I had survived the Perfect Storm .The Turkish driver spoke about the problems that Turkey has today and the Ottoman Empire many years ago. He spoke perfect English as well as three other languages. He parked beside the curb and I lifted myself outside.
"Careful George, a live wire is over there!"
I paid no attention to him. I felt tired and needed to nap. I turned the electric wall heater on did not hear any hissing sound. Ha, the radio lights are off. The lights did not answer when I flipped the switch. The manager was not inside her office as she is supposed to. Instead a note said, Lines down and Power if off everywhere - have a good day.
Now that was Bull Shit.Somebody in this establishment should have remained there. After all we needed to pay our rent. With puddles everywhere, I jumped and crisscrossed the courtyards and made it back to my apartment. I new that my Bronchial Asthma would be exacerbated since my Heppa filter would not work
It was too early to go to bed so I took a walk outside and saw three trucks working on the lines It downed on me. Jerk, across the street lies Home Depot. Get a flashlight. I did. Edison tied the shoelaces by nine thirty but by that time, i had forgotten as I was deep into reading a book with my new friend, a hand held flashlight.
I live at the Beach Wood Apartments on Magnolia and Garfield. at least my $1,700 apartment provides a roof over my head. As evidenced by the lease, Equity Management is aware of the mildew and has made sure that the resident is responsible for any or all of the smell. I am also aware that with Global Warming, it is a matter of time when the poison will exacerbate my already tinged lungs, so soon I will depart.
Surf City suffered through a perfect storm the past Saturday. At least the Lift took me to the Warner Avenue Synagogue. It felt great to pray and sing the hymns sung by my forefathers a long time ago. The threat of rain made many hesitant to take the long walk to the Synagogue, as a heavy downpour in the afternoon would make them wet on the return trip home. Jews are forbidden to walk on the Sabbath. I arrived at the Synagogue at nine o'clock, after drinking a coffee at Starbucks
The Kiddish was ample, what with herring, salmon, olives, salad, beans and cake to relax my stomach. With extra wine, I forgot about the windy cold windy rain. I didn't need to squeeze through to place food on my plate.
My Access lift was to come at 1:30. I put my beanie over my head and a cap over it. I picked up my golf umbrella and hear the voice of Joshua.
"You are the only smart one. We need to wait for the heavy downpour to end. Have a good day George."
Outside the Warner River had overflowed its banks. Too bad I had not worn galoshes. . I broad Jumped across the river and soaked my left tennis shoe, but made it to CVS. My lift driver was supposed to pick me up between one thirty and two. I stood by the overhang of the drug store and prayed that the lift would come, or plan two would be put in place.
It came and it felt good that I had survived the Perfect Storm .The Turkish driver spoke about the problems that Turkey has today and the Ottoman Empire many years ago. He spoke perfect English as well as three other languages. He parked beside the curb and I lifted myself outside.
"Careful George, a live wire is over there!"
I paid no attention to him. I felt tired and needed to nap. I turned the electric wall heater on did not hear any hissing sound. Ha, the radio lights are off. The lights did not answer when I flipped the switch. The manager was not inside her office as she is supposed to. Instead a note said, Lines down and Power if off everywhere - have a good day.
Now that was Bull Shit.Somebody in this establishment should have remained there. After all we needed to pay our rent. With puddles everywhere, I jumped and crisscrossed the courtyards and made it back to my apartment. I new that my Bronchial Asthma would be exacerbated since my Heppa filter would not work
It was too early to go to bed so I took a walk outside and saw three trucks working on the lines It downed on me. Jerk, across the street lies Home Depot. Get a flashlight. I did. Edison tied the shoelaces by nine thirty but by that time, i had forgotten as I was deep into reading a book with my new friend, a hand held flashlight.
Thursday, January 31, 2019
Santa Monica Third Street Mall
Last week, I needed a boost. My body contained too many red cells and they needed more blue ones. So on Friday, I took the Metro-Link to downtown, the purple line to Western, and the Super Seven to West Los Angeles. Li'l Nell would be two years old in a couple of days and Connie Glickman always has one of her five bedrooms reserved for me.
To refresh your memory, Connie had been the surrogate Mother for my brother Mel. She lived a few blocks from my Dad in the South Central part of Los Angles. She met the love of her life at a dance at the Palomar Club on Third and Vermont. When she told her Mom she met a Jewish boy, she celebrated. Her Dad died as he could not make a go of selling furs. Max made it big in the plastic business and they bought a home in Beverly Wood
The Seven bus took us to Santa Monica and the Third Street. No longer does Li'l Nell sit on Connie's lap. She is a kid now and wishes her own space. It is exciting to be the God Father of Li'l Nell. She now refuses to sit in the stroller unless, ah, she gets a treat like chips or candy. In fact, now she walks so fast I can't keep up with her.
After a week of cold weather, the sun came out and welcomed a high seventy degree day. Nell began to run when she saw the bean bag game. The purpose of the game is to throw the bean bag into a hole. Well, Nell took no chances. She camped by the hold and kept throwing the bean bags into the hole.
Of course I become a kid again when I am with Nellie. But since Connie is always looking inside stores for good buys, I have become the baby sitter and need to keep my eyes on her all the time, or quick as a wink, she is off and tries to get lost. There she goes now leading a long rope. She is almost to Santa Monica Blvd now but I have collared her. I carry her back and then a baby German Shepard has gotten her attention. She begins to feed the dog with dog bites she finds in a glass bottle. She loves, and I do mean loves all dogs.
All awhile entertainers are singing, doing a version of break dancing or strumming a guitar. I give Nell a dollar to put inside a money pot. But this time, she did something out of the ordinary.
"Nell, don't take out the money. It isn't yours...I'll get you an ice cream."
We now sat outside on the patio of a convenient store. Connie paid six dollars for some Jerky and to for a canned coke. I asked Nell for a lick of the chocolate but she would have non of it. We now proceeded to the shopping center and upstairs to Mattel's kids play house. She is now at home climbing and having fun. She finds a balloon and is ecstatic when an older kid snatches it away from her. She throws herself on the floor and looks up. People stare at me but I don't move. She arises in her time and continues to play.
Well it is now getting dark and we return to the Fourth Street bus stop. Karen picks us up at the Robertson stop and places her in a car seat, fast asleep. Nell slept that night and most of the next morning. But for me, I was in Seventh Heaven and with a recharged battery, ready to return to Surf City again and the worst mass transit system in California.
To refresh your memory, Connie had been the surrogate Mother for my brother Mel. She lived a few blocks from my Dad in the South Central part of Los Angles. She met the love of her life at a dance at the Palomar Club on Third and Vermont. When she told her Mom she met a Jewish boy, she celebrated. Her Dad died as he could not make a go of selling furs. Max made it big in the plastic business and they bought a home in Beverly Wood
The Seven bus took us to Santa Monica and the Third Street. No longer does Li'l Nell sit on Connie's lap. She is a kid now and wishes her own space. It is exciting to be the God Father of Li'l Nell. She now refuses to sit in the stroller unless, ah, she gets a treat like chips or candy. In fact, now she walks so fast I can't keep up with her.
After a week of cold weather, the sun came out and welcomed a high seventy degree day. Nell began to run when she saw the bean bag game. The purpose of the game is to throw the bean bag into a hole. Well, Nell took no chances. She camped by the hold and kept throwing the bean bags into the hole.
Of course I become a kid again when I am with Nellie. But since Connie is always looking inside stores for good buys, I have become the baby sitter and need to keep my eyes on her all the time, or quick as a wink, she is off and tries to get lost. There she goes now leading a long rope. She is almost to Santa Monica Blvd now but I have collared her. I carry her back and then a baby German Shepard has gotten her attention. She begins to feed the dog with dog bites she finds in a glass bottle. She loves, and I do mean loves all dogs.
All awhile entertainers are singing, doing a version of break dancing or strumming a guitar. I give Nell a dollar to put inside a money pot. But this time, she did something out of the ordinary.
"Nell, don't take out the money. It isn't yours...I'll get you an ice cream."
We now sat outside on the patio of a convenient store. Connie paid six dollars for some Jerky and to for a canned coke. I asked Nell for a lick of the chocolate but she would have non of it. We now proceeded to the shopping center and upstairs to Mattel's kids play house. She is now at home climbing and having fun. She finds a balloon and is ecstatic when an older kid snatches it away from her. She throws herself on the floor and looks up. People stare at me but I don't move. She arises in her time and continues to play.
Well it is now getting dark and we return to the Fourth Street bus stop. Karen picks us up at the Robertson stop and places her in a car seat, fast asleep. Nell slept that night and most of the next morning. But for me, I was in Seventh Heaven and with a recharged battery, ready to return to Surf City again and the worst mass transit system in California.
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