Disgusted with my boring stay in Huntington Beach and my awful hay fever, I decided to b-t it to Howard Jones Field to watch the Trojans workout. Oh yes, b-t means bus and train it. Since I have written a chapter on Howard Jones, the greatest U.S.C. coach from 1925 until 1941 until his untimely death due to cigarettes, I decided to visit the campus.
The homeless staked out each blvd to ask for handouts from the parked cars at each intersection. The rest staked out a place on the bus. I got off in Westminster and took the 560 bus to arrive at the Long Beach Metro station after the 91 shuttle deposited me there.
I bumped my tap card thirty cents and bummed a ride on the Blue Line, headed for Los Angeles. I knew I must have been in Long Beach since many of the idle riders rode bikes and a lady outside the windows showed off her right breast that leaned out her worn out bra. She was screaming a few obscenities while each patron played their rap music. One threw a cigarette lighter at me and I forgave this misfit.
I switched to the EXPO line downtown and headed for U.S.C. I wished to see their workouts at Jones Field. I had downed a peanut butter sandwich sandwiched in with a warm Idaho potato. Of course I had to meet my budget.
Hot, yes hotter than hell it was when I dismounted the EXPO line. Everywhere I looked were students and their parents. Before I walked across the U.S.C. campus to visit my mentor Mr Zachary I had a few moments to enter their student store. It resembled the old May Co on the day after Christmas.
"Are you a new student? The young thin kid was filling out papers and sat down next to me.
"It is move-in-day at U.S.C. and my room is over there."
"Are you from India?"
"Yes, how can you tell?"
"I smell curry on your breath and also you are so tan and quiet."
Inside the store, the happy faced parents bought shirts, pants, and even fans for their little urchins.Each face beamed with smiles as they must have felt proud to have taken their sons and daughters to the promised land and good old U.S.C.
I gave a kiss to Russ Sanders, a statue at U.S.C. and hightailed it to Jones Field. I had not taken in a practice in years. My floppy hat fell off somewhere so I tried at best to shied my head on another roasting day at U.S.C. Oh yes, Russ Sanders played his football at U.S. C and his picture can be seen inside the San Diego High library in the alumni section. An by and by, Gregory Peck also played his J.V. football there.
Without my hat, my head felt like a hot boiling egg as i made it to the field whose name sake, Howard Jones' football teams had put the Trojans on the same page as Notre Dame. Footballs were flying everywhere. I could not get over how high the trajectory of each kick was. Why the two kickers sent them high, and long. A man dressed in U.S.C colors and watched with glee the practice interested me.
"Sir, is this the varsity?"
"Yes it surely is. See number seven, that is my son. He is a wide receiver. His number is seven."
A pass was thrown his way from a coach and he clasped it in his hands the way a set of pliers would.
"What High did he go to?"
"Went to Bishop Almaney in Pasadena...What you got there in your hands?"
It is about Amby Schindler, a greatest of them all under Howard Jones in the thirties. By the way, name is George, what is your?"
"Name is Mr. Mitchell, and that is my son, Steve. He is a two year letter varsity letter man.
Hot, hungry and thirsty, I said my good-by's to Mitchell and went to the EXPO line back to West Los Angeles. The line passed off to the 501 and Pico line where I then went to my daughter's apartmetn to watch her dog for the day
Thursday, August 18, 2016
Wednesday, August 10, 2016
Bank on Wal-Mart
My favorite street lies on Talbert, a major street that connects Huntington Beach with Tustin. To get there, I take the OTA 29 to get to that special corner. And no, it is not just because that is the land of the In N Out Burger. No doubt this yellow arrows secret is that the beef is not refrigerated but the cows are killed no more than fifty miles from the store and brought to the eatery in the early morning.
The Good Shepard Catholic church runs the width of Talbert, and leads to the Wal-Mart. Sundays find ,many Vietnamese family members at the sight of a love one, with their picture on the stone slab. They converse with the departed and even play music. The older grave stones have names like Smith or Davis inscribed where as the newer ones have Tran or some other Vietnamese name. I cross the street to Wal Mart and enter the air conditioned store.
"Hi Jimmy, thanks again for showing me how to use your debit card.
"We have added a new feature here. We now can send your utility bill electronically. No longer will you need to mail a letter."
Even though my statement had my account number, their machine could not allow me pay my past-due Verizon bill. Jimmy, the manager in the Huntington Beach store told me that certain states bought Verizon and it included California.
In fact, when I am late to pay my account, instead of a mail reminder, an automated messages instructs me to use my credit card for payment. Verizon is known for double billing and makes billions each year as the unwary or senior citizens are unaware that their bill includes expenses already billed.
Wal-Mart came to my rescue years ago when the Franchise Tax man began to remove my retirement check from my B of A account. I have had the State mail me my check and have taken it to Wal-Mart that charges a few cents to cash it.
And the good news is that this establishment lies a few yards from the corner N-In-Out burger where I order a "double double, hold the onions and add lots of \pickles and onions. The A/C there is allows my lungs a chance to breathe fresh air.
Unfortunately, a Christine Jones now has swiped ten percent of my retirement check for taxes not paid due to my hardship situation - so I have problems making ends meet this month. I made the error of providing her with too much information for the last two months.
So those of you unhappy with your bank, take a chance on Wal-Mart and have a breakfast on me.
The Good Shepard Catholic church runs the width of Talbert, and leads to the Wal-Mart. Sundays find ,many Vietnamese family members at the sight of a love one, with their picture on the stone slab. They converse with the departed and even play music. The older grave stones have names like Smith or Davis inscribed where as the newer ones have Tran or some other Vietnamese name. I cross the street to Wal Mart and enter the air conditioned store.
"Hi Jimmy, thanks again for showing me how to use your debit card.
"We have added a new feature here. We now can send your utility bill electronically. No longer will you need to mail a letter."
Even though my statement had my account number, their machine could not allow me pay my past-due Verizon bill. Jimmy, the manager in the Huntington Beach store told me that certain states bought Verizon and it included California.
In fact, when I am late to pay my account, instead of a mail reminder, an automated messages instructs me to use my credit card for payment. Verizon is known for double billing and makes billions each year as the unwary or senior citizens are unaware that their bill includes expenses already billed.
Wal-Mart came to my rescue years ago when the Franchise Tax man began to remove my retirement check from my B of A account. I have had the State mail me my check and have taken it to Wal-Mart that charges a few cents to cash it.
And the good news is that this establishment lies a few yards from the corner N-In-Out burger where I order a "double double, hold the onions and add lots of \pickles and onions. The A/C there is allows my lungs a chance to breathe fresh air.
Unfortunately, a Christine Jones now has swiped ten percent of my retirement check for taxes not paid due to my hardship situation - so I have problems making ends meet this month. I made the error of providing her with too much information for the last two months.
So those of you unhappy with your bank, take a chance on Wal-Mart and have a breakfast on me.
Tuesday, August 2, 2016
An-almost Death at the Five Star Senior Apartments
February was the worst month of my life...as it almost cost me mine. The theft of my car made me learn to tie or at least try to tie my shoes -- at last! Also I met the best buddy anyone could have until he almost died a few doors down from me.
Robert Dent's fourth floor apartment cooled off in the late afternoon as ocean breezes danced over his Michigan University mementos. His daughter and then-wife heard me play the piano and invited me to meet Dr. Dent. I dare say I played a dam good piano then and even better now.
"We love your music and believe you have the right tonic my Dad needs. His own dad played the piano and we would love it if you came down to our room, 420 to meet him," so said Diana.
It felt good to be drafted by two good looking girls, and not having a car now, who could not accept their invitation. I knocked on the door and was greeted by the older one, I guess his wife. He was busy inside the bedroom looking for clothes to wear over his tight fitting underwear.
"George...your hair is a mess. Sit down and allow me to give you a cut." His wife, a hair stylist, cut and trimmed my hair, and I knew that her hands were magic. She gave me a mirror and I couldn't believe how good I looked, of course with my mouth shut."
I will never forget his warm greeting and Santa Claus smile -- too bad that all Santa's don't have his smile. A bottle of vodka was on the kitchen table along with miniature Milky Way bars. A Michigan blanket covered a sofa chair, along with a year book and various frames that extolled his virtues as a first rate dentist with a degree at Michigan University.
"You too look like two birds of a feather," or something like that while the flew the coop and I was stuck with Dr. Dent. He was a bit tipsy but I promised to take him to Mario's across the street for some Mexican food.
We ordered the $9.00 special with tacos and enchiladas. He spoke about how he had been planted there by his wife. He dressed with the bright colors of a pro golfer and his hair was a neatly groomed grey. His beard was trimmed and could not stop talking.
He had lived in Malibu in a house by the old Getty building by the palisades area. He had been a dentist at the veterans building and also a professor at U.S.C.'s dental school. It appeared that Robert Dent and his wife had split up.
We walked across Main in the direction of Mario's in the Five Points Center. He asked to pay the bill but his credit card was not good, so I paid for the Meal that included a Martini. From that first night until recently, he became my best friend. We played billiards, ate, and enjoyed becoming my soul mate.
Dent's Dad was a pool shark inside his home town in Pennsylvania. In fact he made "More money playing billiards than as a supervisor for the phone company -- and get this, he never allowed me to win any game at billiards.
But as a kid, nobody had a finer mother. She helped him with his his homework and punished him only once for using foul language. His Dad played a mean piano -- like me so it was fate we met over a piano at the Five Points Senior Apartments.
To make ends meet, he caddied and got so good at it, that a golfer awarded him a scholarship to Michigan University. His Mom also wrote his graduation address at commencement -- so good in fact his Dad for the first time gave applauded him and asked him how he learned to speak well.
Oh yes, he married his high school girl sweetheart
He was third in the Universities dental school and again gave the commencement address. After graduation he worked in a dental office before heading to New Mexico as an army officer. He was an outstanding dentist there and took more classes.
It was his Santa Claus smile and blue eyes that drew me to him at first. He didn't like the idea that I refused to drink with him but Vodka and I love life the way God created it.
His fourth floor apartment had a huge T.V. where he watched detective series' most of the time and used Vodka and juice to eat. The room held many awards and mementos with a Michigan logo and of course a set of gold clubs.
"George I am so sorry I can't offer you anything to drink...What do you say that we run across the street to Java and have a tuna." Across Main Street was the JAVA COFFEE SHOP. Nary any lady was safe within arms reach as he would quip, "My you have gorgeous legs or give them his East Coast whistle."
And then the bad news hit me while playing the piano on the fourth floor. His daughter told me that the apartment threw him out for noise even though his bouts with blackouts and other issues became less and less...Through an altercation with his daughter he came a millimeter from death by a knife and I have not seem or have heard of him since.
He taught me to commend the ladies for their attire or simply good looks. He would walk up to any lady and compliment her on the spot -- something I have learned to do.
Robert Dent's fourth floor apartment cooled off in the late afternoon as ocean breezes danced over his Michigan University mementos. His daughter and then-wife heard me play the piano and invited me to meet Dr. Dent. I dare say I played a dam good piano then and even better now.
"We love your music and believe you have the right tonic my Dad needs. His own dad played the piano and we would love it if you came down to our room, 420 to meet him," so said Diana.
It felt good to be drafted by two good looking girls, and not having a car now, who could not accept their invitation. I knocked on the door and was greeted by the older one, I guess his wife. He was busy inside the bedroom looking for clothes to wear over his tight fitting underwear.
"George...your hair is a mess. Sit down and allow me to give you a cut." His wife, a hair stylist, cut and trimmed my hair, and I knew that her hands were magic. She gave me a mirror and I couldn't believe how good I looked, of course with my mouth shut."
I will never forget his warm greeting and Santa Claus smile -- too bad that all Santa's don't have his smile. A bottle of vodka was on the kitchen table along with miniature Milky Way bars. A Michigan blanket covered a sofa chair, along with a year book and various frames that extolled his virtues as a first rate dentist with a degree at Michigan University.
"You too look like two birds of a feather," or something like that while the flew the coop and I was stuck with Dr. Dent. He was a bit tipsy but I promised to take him to Mario's across the street for some Mexican food.
We ordered the $9.00 special with tacos and enchiladas. He spoke about how he had been planted there by his wife. He dressed with the bright colors of a pro golfer and his hair was a neatly groomed grey. His beard was trimmed and could not stop talking.
He had lived in Malibu in a house by the old Getty building by the palisades area. He had been a dentist at the veterans building and also a professor at U.S.C.'s dental school. It appeared that Robert Dent and his wife had split up.
We walked across Main in the direction of Mario's in the Five Points Center. He asked to pay the bill but his credit card was not good, so I paid for the Meal that included a Martini. From that first night until recently, he became my best friend. We played billiards, ate, and enjoyed becoming my soul mate.
Dent's Dad was a pool shark inside his home town in Pennsylvania. In fact he made "More money playing billiards than as a supervisor for the phone company -- and get this, he never allowed me to win any game at billiards.
But as a kid, nobody had a finer mother. She helped him with his his homework and punished him only once for using foul language. His Dad played a mean piano -- like me so it was fate we met over a piano at the Five Points Senior Apartments.
To make ends meet, he caddied and got so good at it, that a golfer awarded him a scholarship to Michigan University. His Mom also wrote his graduation address at commencement -- so good in fact his Dad for the first time gave applauded him and asked him how he learned to speak well.
Oh yes, he married his high school girl sweetheart
He was third in the Universities dental school and again gave the commencement address. After graduation he worked in a dental office before heading to New Mexico as an army officer. He was an outstanding dentist there and took more classes.
It was his Santa Claus smile and blue eyes that drew me to him at first. He didn't like the idea that I refused to drink with him but Vodka and I love life the way God created it.
His fourth floor apartment had a huge T.V. where he watched detective series' most of the time and used Vodka and juice to eat. The room held many awards and mementos with a Michigan logo and of course a set of gold clubs.
"George I am so sorry I can't offer you anything to drink...What do you say that we run across the street to Java and have a tuna." Across Main Street was the JAVA COFFEE SHOP. Nary any lady was safe within arms reach as he would quip, "My you have gorgeous legs or give them his East Coast whistle."
And then the bad news hit me while playing the piano on the fourth floor. His daughter told me that the apartment threw him out for noise even though his bouts with blackouts and other issues became less and less...Through an altercation with his daughter he came a millimeter from death by a knife and I have not seem or have heard of him since.
He taught me to commend the ladies for their attire or simply good looks. He would walk up to any lady and compliment her on the spot -- something I have learned to do.
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