Ten Dollars All Day

    I needed to fill  my water bucket. The ice cubes of anger pitched back and forth all night at the Alisa Rest Stop, three miles north of Oceanside. A train ride to Los Angeles would put a little water into my bucket and remove some of this  anger. I set my sails on the Oceanside Transit Station and the Metro-Link commuter train to L.A.

   The Saturday Metro-Link's all-day-pass is ten dollars. You can stop, re-board and return by using it on Saturday or Sunday.  I parked my car at the Oceanside parking lot, I bought the ticket at the dispenser with the help of the old Escondido man.  A long line formed in back of me while the Escondido volunteered his services.
     The Metro #666 opened its doors at eight ten and we were off and running making all comuter stops until we hit Union Station. commuter stops. Unlike Amtrak, this train  made two stops in San Clemente. The city is the water gate to many sea view homes. The sun's morning brilliance bounced off the rustic bluffs into the ocean. These famous bluffs showed off their rustic wavy curves.  
    Outside my window, I saw familiar face. It appeared to be our ex-president Dick Nixon. Since I could read mouths, It appeared he wanted me to visit his library on my next visit. I waved good by 
     Walkers and runners took advantage of the trail along the coast. It was a day that  problems seemed to take a hike. It was that beautiful. Since I was the lone sole on the sunny side of the train, the Winston Churchill story also had to hide the sun to make the words visible. Winston was the grandson of his cigar smoking dad. 
      It was important for me to keep my mind busy. I couldn't think about my personal problems. My eyes bounced off the sea back to the bluffs and then to my book. I imagined that I was with Churchill when he gave the speech to Parliament.
      The train stopped at San Juan Capistrano, Tustin, Orange and so forth. Now who in God's name would ever wish to get off in Tustin, Orange or Santa Ana? The valleys used to be carpeted with bright yellow. But with the lack of rain, deadwood grey replaced the once vibrant valley. Wach tree threw up its arms praying for a the stuff. Now the trees lay undressed. There was even an old Marine barracks at the Laguna Niguel stop that appeared a ghost town.
      Capistrano was the most beautiful while I said hello to Father Serra who had a hand in building the famous church. I didn't see any Swallows which had  made the church famous. But my mind had a chance to hold onto something beautiful and forget my woes.
      Ugly graffiti on the box cars told me Los Angeles would be are next stop after Norwalk. Soon Union Station would be looming up ahead.   The Swift name was on many of those box cars. There was also a large mound of cement and a train loaded with cars.
   At the station I got off and asked information the best way to get to the Riordan Library. An officer who obviously never heard the name of library, told me to take the Gold Line Subway Train. I did and ended up all the way in East Los Angeles This train went all the way to Sierra Madre.  I returned and finally got on the Red Line Subway to my stop, the  Biltmore Hotel with the library a block away on Fifth Street.
   Now inside the library I asked for the 1939 microfilms of the Daily News. I wished to make copies of pictures from that newspaper. Tired and anxious, I took part of a pill and did it. I got lost in the 1939's.
    Hunger overtook me after three eventful hours and I treated myself to a Panda Express lunch on the first floor. It was now two o'clock and I walked down the street to find a hotel. I thought about staying the night. The Alexandria's office was closed to anyone who didn't live in one of its converted studios.
    Tired now I returned to the underground and where to get the Red Line train. The four forty Metro was full and unfortunately a young gal wearing a neck brace sat next next to me and cracked each of three snack chips. Thank God she got off at the Orange Exit so I could breath and make it back to the Oceanside Transit Center.
    I even forgot I was homeless for the day. Reality sunk in when I returned however. Inside the train the pure air opened up my mind to how beautiful God's work had been. Too bad people traded the their lives for the gadgets of today.
    Seldom do I see any kid on the train reading a book. the gadgets of today we

 Nuts and Bolts: Sponsor Eddie could not believe it. "You mean to tell me your can ride these rails all day, back and forth, for ten dollars?"  He still could not believe me.