It's another Red Flag Day in San Diego. The deadly northeasterly breeze will bring Black Death back to San Diego. My sinuses had kicked up last night after I joined my rabbi for a nightly service in Little Italy. Yet this morning I felt great.
The T.V.'s weather report signaled for a change in my daily routine. San Diego weather would break the record books. Three days in the nineties, not much to look forward to. I needed to avoid any type of exercise. My asthma would kick up a storm placing my bronchial tubes and life in jeopardy. Yet I wished to announce the completion of my book about 'Amby' Schindler.
I wished the San Diego City Counsel to make May 21st, Ambrose Schindler Day. He will be only 97 years old next month, the 21st. He played his football in San Diego in the thirties. Then he transferred to U.S.C. where he became a living legend.
I took a long shower to remove the pollen from my head. I left the 'Y' at eight thirty, bought my usual two bananas for one dollar at the corner Seven Eleven. One tooth Mr. Fong screamed in Chinese for loose change. Many homeless live at the corner of C Street and India Avenue. Their EBT card allows them to buy just about anything, and keeps them alive.
His Ralph's basket of clothes and supplies were in back of him. He smiled and danced his way to me. We made it a twosome. I gave him one dollar and seven fingers flew in my face.
"When I get paid on the first, Mr. Fong." I then walked down C Street to the City Hall of Administration. I would announce my story at today's ten o'clock meeting. A lady at the desk told me I would have to return at two o'clock "Their meeting will be closed to the public." Now I have heard that before. The real stuff goes on behind clothes doors. Just ask Ex-Mayor Felt-More.
I took a contrary action. I wished to go to a seminar on genealogy at the San Diego Library. I left the trolley on Market and Park and turned west to a battery of eateries. I skipped the Brooklyn Bagel and a Juice store and headed to my favorite at Petco Park Corner. Lolita's and her friendly cold air conditioning was waiting. I entered and ordered.
"Like to buy a bottle of water and the burrito and ham sandwich" "What?" I repeated myself...a few times. "We out of water. would you like Squirt?" "Give me the one with the top and open it for me." She gave me the drink and I grabbed a window stool with a view of Petco Park.
A picture of two San Diego's described what I saw. One dog walker after another was showcasing their breed. Some were running and a few others walked. One Dalmatian provoked its handler. Now I have never seen a dog lick a man's butt until today.
The man tried and tried to get him off his royal ass, but without luck. He moved this way and that without convincing the dog. Fido had locked his nose to his back side. Just maybe he was thirsty. Finally, he made a big maneuver and put the leach and dog in front of him. He gave this slick white dog a kiss on his nose. That seemed to calm his mongrel.
My burrito breakfast to-go was brought to me. It was too hot to eat. In fact it was too hot to live. Yet the air conditioner kept my radiator cool and the Ozone, particles and pollen out. The piped in disco music made my legs do a jig. The waitress laughed. A gal came back and wished my autograph. I told her it would cost next time.
It was now nine thirty I walked one block and waited for the library to open. A larger hoard of patrons waited for the gates of their spring home to open. They rushed in, but not me. I did not wish to be run over by this sea of inhumanity Instead I went to the eighth floor for a computer. They were taken so I reserved one for later in the day.
My meeting on Genealogy was set for ten o'clock. My asthma began to kick up the dust and unseen ozone. For the first time, I needed to use my puffer in order to breath. The first floor room had allowed the Deadly air to enter. So after one hour, I left the symposium and got help looking up the ancestry of Schindler.
I find it hard to believe that an issue about who could use the microfiche computer in the California room on the ninth floor. A United States Census did reveal Schindler's Mom Nelly had been married the first time at age 22.
I have heard ambulances all day, and why not? It is another Red Flag Day in San Diego. That evening, my daughter called after a long nap. I heard my second granddaughter say 'Papa' over the phone. Now energized, I took the nine o'clock Amtrak to my car in Encinitas.
The train gave me the pure oxygen I needed. At Encinitas, I found the ten o'clock temperature to my liking. I drove back to San Diego and parked it at the Old Town Commuter Station. I did not take my blood pressure pill since my heart needed all its energy to beat the heat. (I discovered that blood pressure pills kick out much needed water.)
Today it is Thursday, and I am still alive. I wonder why the hotel owners don't allow us to have air conditioners. Is it all about money. I never would have known it but our heat was the highest in the country.
I spent the early morning hours at Starbuck's on the corner of Kettner and India Avenue. Starbuck's game plan is to keep the room cold and present cold drinks on hot days and the reverse on cold ones.
I sat by a round table drinking a Arrowhead quart of water, yes water and reading my New York Times. "Mocha for Jean", "Ice Latte for Betty", "Ice Coffee for Carmen". The Starbucks lines were out the door.
Wednesday evening I spent part of the late afternoon with disgruntled passengers at Lindbergh Field. A glitch in some system in Los Angeles caused a long delay in most Southland flights. I spoke with two gentleman from Mexico.
"I was born in upstate Minnesota. All I did was fish and shovel ice. Now I live in Sacramento. My buddy and I came down to Mexico to stay with our friend. We spent a week fishing."
"What did you catch."
"A dozen Red Snappers. I cleaned, marinated, and salted them before dropping them inside a large cooler...Got t go now, my plane is going to take off.
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