Old Town's best guitar player

   About one year ago, I felt like taking a gun to my head-not really, but almost. Gloria, the love of my life, told me 'If  you were the last Jew in the world, I would not marry you.' It was then I thought about converting to Catholicism.
   I have spent the last four month going to Old Town's Catholic church in San Diego. I drenched myself in the Laws of God. A Reverend Eckert made a strong believer in humility and forgiveness. Yet I needed a little more to remove the last vestiges of disapproval,
   I spent Sunday's at Old Town's Catholic Immaculate Conception Church. I felt much better but needed desert to soften the blows of rejection. In the late afternoons I followed the Chinese tourists from Alhambra in the San Gabriel Valley to the ice cream store. My depression turned to elation. I rodered two scoops of Rainbow Ice Cream and a wave of music from across the way sounded like it was born in heaven.
   I felt so good I ordered two scoops of rainbow ice cream and let Augustine Sanchez
 saturate my soul with his guitar music. I felt mesmerized by how his fingers touched my heart and made it strong again.

   Earlier in the day, I sit in front of the cigar store, and enjoy watching people light and puff up their brand. To my left is an old weighing scale. Few ever spend a quarter to weigh themselves. They simply are embarrassed to discover the truth. Many are fat or obese.
   "Sir I am having a problem. Is the machine broken."
    Here is another quarter. Try it again.
    He lifted his body on the scale. Nothing registered again.
    What had been your weight?
   "About three hundred pounds."
    That is the problem. The scale only holds up to 250 pounds.
   "Thank you very much. Can you join me in an ice cream?"
    No, not right now.
     At that point a couple in love walked over to the wooden Indian in front of the patio. I could tell they loved each other. They held hands and even talked to each other.
     "Jesus, can you take my picture."
     With her hands wrapped around the Indian, she kissed him. Now the dead Indian would have none of it. He woke up and blew a wad of cigar smoke into her face. After she fainted, they left. I removed myself from the ice cream store and ambled to the candy stores. I felt like a quarter pound of their best homemade chocolate.

Don't J Walk in San Diego

 "Sir! Stop over there!" 
  I took a chance. I didn't wish to wait today. I looked both ways until clear of cars. I began to walk across when somebody screamed.
  My heart raced a bit, but not too much. A handsome motorcycle stopped beside the curb that led to the Santa Fe Station. He left his bike and spoke to me about J walking. .
   "It is the leading cause of death. Over ninety percent of accidental deaths come from J walking."
   "You are right officer...Glen Thomson." (I got his name off his shirt." .
    He began to open up his ticket booklet. How much is the ticket?"
   "It is one hundred and ninety two dollars." My heart dropped a beat.
   "So far officer, I have had the greatest New Year possible. I apologize for my judgement. It wont't happen again...and I will warn others in my Blog.
   "Well, see that you promise not to do it again. I will write up it up as a warning." He gave me a copy of the citation and got onto his bike.
  "Happy New Year. Mr. Thompson
   I felt glad it didn't happen in Carlsbad. The police there are not so forgiving.
  I entered the  Santa Fe Station to wait for the 567. It makes all of the Coaster stops. I got in line and waited for the call over the speaker. "Will all of you going to ..."
  On the first level I found a seat. It felt good to have saved over one hundred dollars. Over the trains speaker I heard, "This is not the #769. This choochoo  is the t is the 567. Also, only those with disabilities can sit on the lower level. Conductor Ricky now checked each for tickets. The two across from me were Latinos. One was rubbing her fingers. They spoke only Spanish.
   "Where are you going?" She responded, "Solano Beach." The older one told the conductor she was going to Encinitas. He got to me.
   "Thank you for saying "ChuChu." It lightened up my day. How long have you been with Amtrak?"
   "In ten months, I retire. This is my fortieth year."
    I asked a few more questions and not to bore you, I lumped his answers together.
   "The job pays the bills. I have three kids and seven grand ones. I live in Santee. I worked the Northwest area most of the time.'

    Two of the domestics got off with me in Encinitas. One looked lost. The darker hair with too much eye shadow was not aware the bus stop was a block away. She chose to walk up the hills just before the five.
 I got into my car-well not quite. I saw my World War One book perched still on my windshield where I had left it. My I have had a good day.
   I did not know it, but a black and white followed my disabled plates up to the right turn that I normally make, but waited today. (Not edited)
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Al, The Fighting Marine-part 2

   With the eight thirty Mass over at nine thirty, I walked over to the Rectory beside the Catholic Immaculate Conception Church in Old Town, San Diego. Tall Al, for Alvin,  stood in front of me and waited to grab two donuts and then coffee. He looked to be in his early nineties. (Found out later, 92)
     After the service, the church served up donuts, orange juice and coffee.   I tapped Al Weaver on the shoulder. "Nice to see you again." He replied, "The same" and we sat at Table 1 on the north-front of the Rectory Hall.  This tall man with hands to match sat next to me. Well, not really... I moved over. For the next one hour he spoke about his life-made more enjoyable by the two donuts.

   "I woke up in a Guam hospital. My back felt like smashed pretzels. A Japanese mortar attack had killed our team in Okinawa while we worked a tractor shovel to level a field. We had wished to make a field where planes could take off and bomb the main island of Japan. We had been getting ready to attack Japan.  An image that stood in front of me looked familiar...Was it Jane, my flame in grade school?  The smoke lifted. It was Jane!
  'Might your name be Jane?" She took a double look at me.
   "You just can't be Al, can you?"
   The cob webs evaporated while we exchanged greetings and she bandages. Then another miracle happened. My brother Mike hugged me. He was one of my three brothers who had enlisted after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. I didn't quite know how he found me!
    After a few months, I was lifted on a plane headed for  Hawaii. The plane's captain sprang the good news.  "The war is over. The Japanese have just surrendered!"
     The plane landed. I was well enough to find out two of my vertebra had been damaged. For sure I would become a paraplegic. Yet after a few months I walked out of the hospital with full mobility and no pain. And would you believe my Pastor was there all the way from Blanca, Colorado.
      I returned to San Diego and left the Marines. From there in 1945, I left on a bus with two sailors. We sat on a bench in the rear of the bus. Santa Fe was our destination. In front of me sat a gal. Her head looked up the entire trip. She sat next to an old lady, about 45 years old.
   The bus made a  stop. She left holding her purse. I walked up to the old lady who sat next to her. A man had left aisle seat next to us. The lady moved to the empty seat. The gal returned from the laboratory and gave me a look that I will remember till I die. I must have looked like a gift sent from heaven.
   We spoke the rest of the trip. I told her when she got to Denver to look me up. I game me her phone number. I then proceeded to my Mom's house. I was tinkering on a car when my Mom screamed. "Come quick, Allen, there is a lady on the phone!"
    At that point in the Rectory of the Immaculate Conception Church in Old Town. A lady interrupted us. I seems that a kid from some high school needed us to sample some cookies and cakes. It must have been a baking class. Al sampled a cookie while I enjoyed the story about the love off his life.
   "George, as soon as I lay eyes on her, I knew she was the one. Anytime we were together,  I became a child playing with a new toy. Where were we?"
   You were at home in Denver after the war. You had told Ilene to call you when she arrived in Denver. .
   "Oh yes, It was Ilene on the phone. She was in Denver. Wearing dungarees and a sweat shirt, I picked her up at a Denver Hotel. With her permission, I drove home and showered and changed my attire. My Mom and her kicked it off just swell. We married thirty one days later."
   Now Al, hold up. Get back to your house in Denver.
   "Well we saw each other for four straight evenings. My Dad played the organ with much more zip and punch. My parents were excited."
   Al, when did you first kiss? 
   "On the fourth date. And did she kiss me back! Now she lived in Ocean Beach, next to San Diego. I visited her there for a few weeks and we decided to get into my car and go to Denver again.
   "When I got to highway 40 I needed to make a decision. I trembled with anxiety. I decided we should go to Rodesto New Mexico. I only had enough money for one motel. I then asked her if she would marry me.
We went to a JP for the ceremony.
   "Don't you have witnesses? Don't worry." Two old folks in their fifties stood in. I will never forget our first night in the motel. All my inexperience and trepidation disappeared. The shoe fit!
   "I was out of money so I got a job fixing cars. A few days later, a bus arrived with a four year old. To my chagrin, it was her son. Her Mom had put him on a bus all the way from Ocean City. It bothered me she had been married, but what bothered me more was why her Mom put her on the bus."
    "Your know George, she has been dead for more than fifteen years now. I still sometimes see her next to me in bed. I am still made about falling asleep just before she died in our living room. She had been ill for ten years but did not wish to remain in the Scripp's Hospital."
   "We had two sons. One died in Mexico from a burglary and the other died from a stroke. But George I keep moving along, just moving along.

   Lets back up a bit. When you settled in San Diego, where did you work?
   I first worked for a Studebaker Company. It was on India Street close to Washington. The dealership closed their doors in 1962. I then got a job with a Automatic Transmissions. We opened up three other stores and were the biggest in San Diego.
   I worked there for sixteen years but told my boss I wished to quit. He gave me his shop in National City. I worked there for ten years before I retired.
     This story was related to me after another Sunday at the Catholic Immaculate Conception Church in Old Town San Diego.in its Rectory. The first Father Serra church was built on almost this exact spot. Over 400 patrons sat with me again where I nurture my soul with the power of  His word. (Alvin died a year later, he same day his wife died.) 
 
 
    

Horst Cahn "I want to tell you something."

  "I called up Washington D.C. and wished to know if anyone else from my camp in Auschwitz had survived. They told me I was the only one still alive."
   It was probably your sense of humor that kept you alive. "I want to tell you something, George...When the war ended, the Russians told me to remove the German uniforms. I kept my uniform on stating that "My God has told me not to steal."
   At that point in our Oak Tree Cafe lunch, Judy ran up to me and asked if I "still wished a meal." I donated a few dollars and sat at a private table and listened in. Barbara now had a chance to speak. She now calls Gregorio "Greg". They have gone on four chaperoned dates so far. And Love is in the Air.  Wouldn't it be something if Greg became Lady Barbara's husband number four? 
   "George, You know I played a grand piano in a mansion. We drank and I danced by myself, You know Greg directed the Stalingrad Symphony. And Joe Stalin watched. Hope you can meet my son at Moonlight Beach."( It is my favorite beach and has a great view from round parking lot on a hill."
   "Sorry, I need to check with my post office to see if Governor Brown had sent my check."
   Table 5 has transformed miserable lonely creatures waiting, to those who wish to live forever-laughing and enjoying food with those who care. Excuse the interruption.
   "I want  to tell you something....We had no idea in 1943 what was happening inside the labor camps. The Germans took us to the train station and made us enter a box car. There was standing room only. The bucket I placed next to the door. When the Germans opened it, they were splashed with our toilet."
   "We had to hide our bread. We were fed three times a day. You took a chance when you left something in your barracks.

    My fingers told me it was time to play. I recalled a Chopin tune from a CD. I played it and not badly I may add. Lady Barbara walked to the piano. She revels in our piano playing. I then played, Some Enchanted Evening. We returned to the table
   Lady Barbara would not stop talking and looking at the beaming smile of "Greg" her knew boy friend. I had sat with her earlier and wanted more information about the untimely death of Jay, the love of her life and father of seven.
  "The funeral was held at Forrest Lawn. We could not write about it since the church would have been overflowing. All of Bechtel and power company employees from Arizona and Nevada came to his funeral. It was all one big blur to me.I could no longer sleep in our bed. I kept looking for Jay. He was my life!! Finally, I left to live in Romona for a few years. I returned to a house close to the beach.
  "Later I moved to Julia and opened a dress shop. I had some of the richest clientele. I went to the L.A. Mart to buy the dresses. I lived there for ten years and the shop did well. I am now wearing clothes that never sold."

   To keep with the flow, more talk with Table 5 continued on Monday, the Sxth of January. Horst, like usual appeared like a golf professional today. His colors were light, mainly white with a bright striped shirt and hat to match. Again he strode to all tables to spread his yarns around.
    "Do you know the Germans called us by our first name, either Israel or Sarah. My name was Israel Horst Cahn. Ghengis is my cousin so just watch it."
     When the Russians arrived in your camp, did they provide food?
    "No. Actually, I was placed in a room with others to ill to walk. When I got better, we had nothing to eat but a lady made us baked potatoes and placed them in a bag for us. We saw a truck the Germans left in hast. We discovered cans with meat and vegetables. It still took a while for me to regain my 150 pound weight."
    'I hid the potato sack since it was a sin to just throw food away. The Red Cross sent me a letter confirming that I remained in sick bay after liberated."
    A friend in the computer lab wrote that after President Truman, our leaders have removed the desert from our country. Truman retired to his home and paid for everything, unlike today when our leaders spend spend and spend lavishly while we go hungry. I mentioned this to Lady Barbara.
    "When I walked the precincts for the Republican Party, I did not trust Nixon one bit. I walked them with the wife of the founder of Big Boy. They didn't trust me to walk alone."
      "The Mott family controls everything George.  They sold their land to the United Nations and call all of the shots today. You will never read or hear anything about them. George Schultz married one of the Motts, that is why  I know this."
     By that time, the taxis and lifts came for everyone. 
  
  

   "
  

  

A Visit to My Dentist

   He stuck a needle in twice, and with the needle inside the gum massaged it. Hurry up and get that dam needle out!  Dr. Melendez ran to another dental booth next to mine.  I continued to read my book about War in the Pacific. The Japanese had picked up survivors from a destroyer and clubbed and sliced their heads off.
   I heard a drill in the next room. My heart raced and skipped a beat. I heard it go thump, thump,  thump. . Dr. Melendez  entered and muttered something about a complication. Could he get to the root of the problem. He dug in with his pitchfork-at least it felt like one. My right leg kicked. Was it a Sting Ray that bit me? Then I heard him say, "The tooth is now out."
   
   My New Years resolution was not to get in my  way. My first goals was to make my take care of the few remaining teeth left. Next would be a crown and then bridge. I wished to look like a somebody, and not a dead beat. Besides, my Mom Edith always told me,"Look at her teeth before you marry her!"
    Today I needed to drive to Oceanside to visit with Bright Now! Dental. I left the Encinitas Senior Center at about one thirty. My appointment was set for two thirty. I took the Five to the Escondido freeway and got off at College. There I swung a left and drove about three miles to the Oceanside office.
  
   In no way did I feel like celebrating. I felt dead to the world. A bone graft was placed inside my mouth. With the bleeding stopped, I paid my $150 deductible and thanked Dr. Melendez.
   My next stop was the Carlsbad Library off of the Five freeway. I needed to do computer work before going to the Tip Top for some Lentle soup. My mouth did not bother me. It felt great to say good-by to number 32.
   I parked my car at the Encinitas Station to wait for the 5:20 afternoon Coaster from Oceanside. It was late. When it did arrive, Conductor Mr. Smarts  told us about the delay. "Some kid ran after his dog. No longer does he need to worry about his pet."

An Untimely Death .

 

   On the last day of the year, I, again, sat with Horst Cahn and Lady Barbara. Barbara again spoke some about her husband Jay, who unexpectedly, died at the pinnacle of his career at Bechtel Power corporation. Since our conversation at table 5 is constantly interrupted, I thought it wise to splice her life together on chronological time-of course without any interruption.
  "I had seven kids, and luckily, my sixth was finally a girl. I am sure God gave me lots of boys to make me more tolerant of men, since my relationships with my Dad wasn't good. It worked.'
   "I had no trouble delivering the seven kids, but the last took the longest. I breast fed all of them till I became dry. With seven kids to cloth and feed, I didn't get much rest. One day my baby was in the bathonette while I slept. The baby cried and I spied Billy spreading nail polish all over the babies face."
   ""Jay always kept dinner with us, no matter what. He was on his way up and we received a phone call from Steven Bechtel. He sent us on a private jet to the Los Palos Power Station in Arizona. He needed to get to know his new vice president."
   "Besides dinner, he took us on a tour of the power plant. His wife was a bit on the heavy side but she trooped her way to the top. I was scared to death. I liked Steve since he was always pleasant. We went to dinner several times"
   "With the new position, Bechtel mailed us family stock soon after. (They bought them back after his death, but sent a tidy some as a replacement.
   By that time, Horst returned to the table. "Why do I have two pies?"
   "To make sure you keep your mouth shut." was my retort.
   The rice with a slice of chicken and two vegetables was served up. I had already finished my myopic salad dish with two fork fulls. Barbara now became more animated. She changed subject now to her Uncle Charles.
   Uncle Charles would place me inside his wheel barrel and lug me to the big chicken coup. Each chicken produced an egg a day. He gathered the eggs while I shuddered that I might fall the special latter he had built. My Uncle inherited the farm but kept up with his postal route.
   Once some chicken were brought to his farm. They did not wish hens so when one grew up, my Aunt strangled it and placed the remains in a bag for us to drive home.
 
    At that point, we she begins to eat and finishes her story about her husband Jay. "About the time he began to think about taking over a new energy station in Saudi Arabia, he began having coughing spells. He would not go to the doctor. I told his doctor to call him at work. I called his secretary.
    'You will be receiving a call from Jay's doctor. The doctor wishes to see him at lunch time-or I am sure he would not go."
   "I am relieved you called. We at the office are worried about him."
   A few hours later, his doctor called.
  "Barbara, we had to admit your husband. Can you come to the hospital."
   I found out he had cancer. I  call Mr. Bechtel. George, this is a copy of a letter my husband wrote in the hospital.

                                               My Dear Bechtel Friends:

              What I want to say is bursting in my heart and this is the fastest way I know to share it with all
              of  you. It would seem to the casual observer that my fortunes went from the "heights" to the
             "depths" in a  matter of a few days. Don't you believe it!!!
               The illness I have is extremely serious but that is just another problem we will solve with God's 
                help.    The important thing is I want to get across is why Jay McEntee is still "among the peaks"--- I am                                  blessed to with a spirtual relationship with my Lord and Savior which keeps me from getting 
                "hung up" when death is a real prospect.
  ..             .I am blessed with a family who believe as I do, and who all strengthen each other during times of crises. .
                  blessed with so many friends who are praying for me - - the power of those prayers, I know, will "move  mountains.      untains. 
   ..            .I am blessed with an employer who, when the chips are down, really shows its concern for people.
                   So, as you  can see, we are still in there pitching and there are lots of innings left.
                 So many of you have sent cards or called many times. I would like to express the heartfelt thanks of Barbara and                      myself for your thoughtfulness and concern.
                                                        My warmest regards, Jay (Not yet edited.) o
  
 

San Diego, a Tale of Two Cities.

   It was the day after Christmas, and nothing stirred except a rat and the bodily remains of a human still breathing. . The north end of the YMCA lobby smelled like dead fish. A man in the last stages of rigor-mortise lay on the floor too weak to rise. The combination of dead sweat and urine punctured my nasal passages.  A half sock displayed various shades of black decay on his foot.
    I can still see his eyes pleading with me for a dollar or two. So sickening was the smell, a thousand baths could have never removed the smell of dead skin. Like all real homeless, he was lean, unshaven, still had two teeth still ready to serve him - that is when he could eat a real meal.
    The two bicycle brothers had homesteaded the dumpster on the corner of the Y parking lot. One removed the cans and bottles to the other who pancaked them for their black trash bag. Their two bikes held their worldly possessions. A kid's stroller was fastened to one. I first noticed the D Boys a year ago from the second floor of the Y.
 
  I walked around the corner to Starbucks' Coffee Shop. I needed to edit a few pages of my football story. I was early for the 567 Amtrak out of the Santa Fe Station. The train offered me cool, clean air - and not the fowl stuff in my YMCA cell.  something  Besides, I needed cold clean air, something amiss at the downtown "Y".
    While I took up a seat by the window, I saw a man with Otis on his uniform. For me it meant he fixed elevators.  I begged to speak to him--since  one of our two elevators has been in sick bay most of the year. On the disabled lift, a posted sign read, "Temporarily out of service. Sorry for the inconvenience." The sign has been up for more than a month so I wished to ask the him about old elevators. Besides, the four wheel chairs in the six story edifice most assuredly would have a darn time coming down in a fire drill.
    "It can cost as much as one hundred thousand dollars to fix it. Wooden railing elevators are difficult to work on, and my company dislikes working on the older lifts because of insurance. Too many people have died on fixed elevators with wooden sidings."
     "Well, I feel sorry for the four wheel chairs in the building. They may never get out. And God forbid that the only remaining lift also read, "Temporarily out out of service." (The rat I caught inside our kitchen. He scurried out the window when he saw me.)

   My wallet felt disgusted with me. "Why George can't you save a few dollars. Now we need to pray Governor Brown has not lost your retirement check."  Brown throws all teachers' checks into bulk mail to save money and fore us to deposit our funds inside a bank. They he can post a levy and withdraw funds from your account - as he did me.
     I entered the Seven Eleven on the corner of India and C Street. The line inside bought the usual. On ordered a Marlboro Gold with a hot dog. Another a one dollar lotto ticket with an energy drink, and on who purchased two soft drinks and some candy. I bought my two bananas for one dollar and left. The outside trash can displayed left over eateries of the Seven Eleven. Candy wrappers, coffee cups, and an assortment of left over pizza paper plates covered the can.
    "Sir can ya spare a dime?"
    Not today, but on pay day. Have a good one.
    The Tijuana Blue entered the American Plaza. A dozen domestics spilled out. A few ran to catch the Green Trolley that ran east to Old Town and  onward to Qualcom Stadium and Santee.
    The #567 Amtrak out of the San Diego Santa Fe station provided my lift for the day. My bout with the hotel's invasion of cockroaches and bed bugs now forgotten, for now.  My legs no longer itched. I removed my Dickens book and began reading the last chapter of "The Curiosity Shop."
     The clean air provided me with my first sneeze of day. In no way can that occur inside my hotel, Clean air no longer lives in San Diego - only black death. Fumes from overhead Navy planes, the endless chain of Broadway cars filter inside my room and thus into my lungs. But who cares. Our pot hole leaders don't.
   My lungs sang in rhythm with the beat of choo choo #567. The conductor was checking tickets. My Compass pass allows me to go on eight Amtrak trains as far as OS or Oceanside.
   "Goin to Encinitas Mr. Garrett?"
   "Happy New Year Mitch." He never needs to check my compass card since I am a Icon on the 567.
   I detrained at Encinitas and walked over the rails to my car Dolly. She has seen too many miles but his happier now that I restrict her to a few miles a day.
 . A  young Chinese lady ran to me.  ran up to me. I know she had missed the #567 since either she had been late or the doors abruptly closed. She was with her son.
   "Don't you cry. You can catch the one that should arrive at eleven. They probably will allow you to use that ticket. If you wish, you can catch the next Amtrak out of Solana Beach-about three miles north of her." She seemed relieved.  I then walked to my car and took Encinitas Blvd to the Senior Center.
   Yet I could not remove the stench from my nose and felt sorry for the one lying in the Cockroach Hotel.