The fisherman pulled up a Bonita and cut into small parts. He would would be bait to catch a bigger one.. Another fisherman walked up the stairs at the Santa Monica Piers end and screamed, "My boss gave me three free hours."
"Hope he's going to pay you?'
"Well got to return to my paint job."
I had shared a number 7 loaded bus with students going to Santa Monica City College. Many got off at Bundy Avenue but most left at my old City College in Santa Monica. I needed to be close to the ocean. I walked up the old pier and said hello to the wooden horses, still asleep. I trudged down bleacher steps to watch two volleyball players.
A volleyball player was taking lessons. A tall screen was made ready for a concert that evening. tonight. The opera Toscanini would be televised on a big screen from the Los Angeles Philharmonic. it would begin at seven thirty.
I walked up to the Gordon Arcade and several shops. At one time, there were two piers and one of them had the largest ballroom this side of the Pacific. The Spade Cooley Orchestra had played there in the forties and fifties. There was also a giant roller coaster and all types of shops.
Yet it was hot, too not to walk. The sun enveloped everyone with its blast furnace. The end of the pier afforded some shade. On my way back, I stopped in at Mac Donald's for their breakfast. It is still good for less than four dollars. I turned the corner and decided to take the Rapid 10 all-the-way downtown.
I helped out two people who did not know if the 10 was the right one. The gal was from West Africa and the boy from Brazil. There is something about travel that I love. The Big Blue stopped at the Bundy Drive bus stop to allow about fifty Santa Monica City College students climb on board. The bus driver told the rest of the crowd to wait for the next bus. A boy entered anyway and pushed his way through.
"I told you no more! The boy disappeared through the crowded aisle.
"I know who you are and you'll never get on my bus again."
So now the #10 that had lumbered down Broadway and now across Bundy Drive crossed Pico Blvd. Many of the Latino students got off at Olive Street downtown and others at other stops. It was too bad they had to come across town to get educated when the high schools should have done the job.
I go off at the Santa Fe Station and showed my two friends where to pick up their Amtrak tickets. The Brazilian would be meeting his brother at Santa Ana and the South African would be going all the way to the San Diego Santa Fe Station. They thanked me. I had another question for the polite window teller.
"How much is it for Portland?"
"Right now it is $152. We run one train at ten each day."
"I might leave Thursday or Friday...Let me think about it."
Now it just may have been going to the Santa Monica Pier and the view of the merry-go-round or just walking and talking. The high temperatures were due to quit the scene later in the day. I decided to visit the L.A. Library.
The B Dash bus deposited me there for twenty five cents. I was able to use their updated computers to and make fine copies to my flash drive. I huddled below on the lower fourth floor for several hours until hunger over took me. The Panda Express on the first floor satisfied my stomach but my head was full of the 30's and the football story.
The Rapid 720 took me back to West Los Angeles with the #14 the rest of the way. What a marvelous day...And I felt a nice cool breeze on my march back.
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