A Trip to U.S.C.

     Football season is here. Already a few leaves have fallen off the mighty Oak. My sponsor Eddie scolded me for not having my book published. Well, I don't wish to be in hell with Coronal Eddie. I needed to travel to Los Angeles. My brother was in the Huntington Beach Hospital and also I wished to see my two daughters and grand ones, Summer and Spring. 
     I picked up my car at the Old Town Terminal. I needed a sleeping pill the night before since below me many kids had an all night party at the 'Y'. Yet the Sunday drive went without a hitch. My budget did not allow me to stay at the motels. My daughter found one for only $80 on Santa Monica Blvd. The old motel was called the Stars Inn.
    It's Indian manager spoke broken English but did give me room #14. It was just what the doctor ordered. A large old bed for a large old man suited me fine. The bathroom told me its age. There was no commode over the toilet. A handle on the right side removed the waist. The shower took  ten minutes to heat the water. It was not a walk-in shower. It was a drop-down one and almost tore my knee up.  
     But it wasn't all that bad. It was across the street from Little Tehran or the Century City mall. One joint allowed me to make my own hamburger. The menu felt like a computer with too many gadgets and programs. "Waitress, this fandango-ed menu is getting me upset. Just give me a regular burger with onions and tomatoes..and don't forget a clean glass of water and straw." The burger is what I needed.
    Most of the Persian women wore more jewelry on their strapless shoes than face. They must spend days manicuring and designing jewelry for each toe.  Earlier with my daughter, I sat to enjoy the glitz and glamour of the setting. The Persian men walked behind their caravan. Their wives walked slowly showing little emotion.  
   They could have been going to have their heads shaved off.  Their kids did there thing, darting here and there. Their wenches did not smile or laugh. They were hostage to this display of false wealth.
   
  I felt too anxious the next day to just sit. I decided to go to U.S.C. to take pictures of some of Schindler's football buddies. I took the #14 bus to the #720 Wilshire Rapid, and then a Dart F to the Trojan Campus.
  Everywhere I saw remodeling going on. On the second floor are the U.S.C. archives at the Doheney Library.  A lady allowed me to remove the 1936-39 U.S.C.  yearbooks called the El Rodeo.I took pictures of Ray George, and Mickey Anderson. And there was an article about a 1936 track meet against Ohio State.
  An article about Jessie Owens excited me. Schindler told me he had met the Great Jessie at a track meet. The article verified what he had told me. Owens won four events that spring day of  1936. He ran the one hundred yard dash in 9.4 and his other times foreshadowed his performance in Berlin, the sight of the Olympics.
  There was also a picture of Schindler as a member of Sigma Alpha Epsilon. I took pictures of Gil Kuhn, the Trojan 36 Captain and also O'Neil, whose uncle and Dad had a hand in the building of the campus.. Also were the pictures of Pole Vaulter Earl Meadows and Discuss thrower Kenneth Carpenter. They won Gold at the 1936 Olympic Games  
   After taking pictures from the El Rodeo, I took out a sliced turkey spread with apricots and plums. It was too hot to eat. Most of the students were Asian or Caucasian. You could tell they had smarts by their quick movements. I took a picture of me and Tommy Trojan and then went to the book store. I got the name of Cecil Brown, in charge of books.
    The Dart F bus drove me back to Figueroa Street, and the #720 Rapid bus took me to Beverly Drive. I had a great time with my second daughter and at about five thirty on Sunday, stopped in at Dina's for a half chicken and potato I loaded up on Coffee for my drive to Encinitas. I parked it and took a leisurly ride back on the 9:36 Amtrak.(Not edited)