So, this is Boston?

A trip to the park 1987.
We walked down to Brookline Village and caught the ‘T’ with the intent of traveling towards downtown Boston. The MTA train that travels above and below street level through Beantown. The same subway that “Charlie” was stuck on and his fate will never be learned, as sung by the Kingston Trio.
But anyway, we were headed for Tremont Street stop with the intent of walking to the Boston Commons. America’s first city park. Certainly, a heavily visited place by out-of-town visitors like ourselves. So, wife, youngest daughter, and myself then ventured into the famed park. There was the ‘Swan Boats” with a dozen passengers circling on a waterway around the Commons. Down the way a father/daughter were playing, If my memory serve me, a violin and accordion and regaling the few listeners standing nearby. So, we walked around the fifty-acre park. Trees, bushes, and all manner of shrub adorned the park. It was early summer and a public place couldn’t be more beautiful.
Then we found the place our three-year-old daughter came for. A splash pad. A fountain shooting twenty or thirty feet into the air. A fine spray covered the entire pad and kids of all ages were screaming and yelling in the showery mist.
Wife and I found park benches to sit and watch our daughter scream and frolic in the fountain’s cooling mist.
Wife and I were talking about her classes she was taking at Simmons College. A well-regarded college amongst dozens of colleges and universities in Boston. Boston’s greatest export is its institutions of higher learning. Harvard, Boston College, MIT, Boston University, etc.
Then I noticed out from the corner of my eye a man fully clothed walking out from the splash pad soaking wet. He was a man of a smallish stature looking straight at me with his narrow eyes and broad forehead. Looking very much like someone from the Kennedy family. He then sat down on the bench next to me and sat there for a moment while still dripping puddles.
Then as passersby walked in front of the ‘splashpad man’ he would point his finger directly at them and say something like, “Did you know John F Kennedy was our 35th president?” Or, as others passed by a still pointing at them, “Did you know John F Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas Texas on November 22, 1963?” And it continued on with him pointing at random people as they passed in front of the very wet man.
Finally, and not too soon, our daughter walked away from the splash pad and indicated she had enough. So, we dried her off and walked back to the subway entrance and got on the train and made our way back to wife’s temporary home in Brookline. Yes, just another ordinary day in Boston.

The removal of early California history.

Architecture
In my little town I grew up in there was an adobe structure very much like the Spanish missions of early California. It sat far back about a hundred yards from the nearby boulevard. It was something like an apartment or dormitory building instead. An adobe dwelling that was framed with leafy cypress and eucalyptus trees. Giving the appearance of a peaceful place to live. Some did say it was a Catholic convent. A dwelling for Nuns. It had a classic wavy stucco over stone or brick and was a two story with a red tile roof and wide Roman arches on the lower level. Lower level also with a tile roof. Architecture Pretty much from the early post Spanish Colonial influence. Certainly, worth saving and placing on a historical registry.
But, nope! It was completely torn down to the dirt level. It is now the parking lot for the city hall and police department. Oh, so sad.

Do not bother me while i’m writing my novel.

I have decided to write a book.
Since I have some modest writing skills, I shall author a novel. A murder mystery about opposing interests that despise each other’s narrow interests. Almost like warring mob families intended on destroying each other. Godfather, step aside. This is a battle of turf and territory. If one opposing clan moves in on the same common ground as the other, then a great cataclysmic irruption will certainly follow.
I will smartly title the novel, “The Pickleball Murders.” Warring mafioso-like families attempting to either defend the entire court or share half the court with the ruthless Pickleball family. Wise guys versus the despised guys. Neatly uniformed tennis players battling worn and tattered Pickleball players. Stand by. All these ugly family wars coming soon.

Romance in the parts bins.

My first job.
It was my first job after getting married. I started to work in the parts and service department at Sears Sacramento 1965. My new boss, Mr. Cole said it doesn’t pay much but come and get it. So, I started in September a few days after our honeymoon.
Mr. Cole had already had an earlier career and retired as Chief Petty Officer in the Navy. When I started my new Sears job Mr. Cole appeared to me about early sixties and probably had already worked at Sears for the previous 20-years. I would almost always see him in white dress shirt and tie. Often with his sleeves rolled up. He was a good man and was most fair with we underlings. He gave us this advice, “Don’t bring your home problems to work and don’t take work problems home.” But anyway, my job required very little skill and for the most part was done with little thought. Find the part for the customer on the micro-film machine then go to the racks and find the part or write out an order it for him. Parts for sears small and large appliances, TVs and small engine driven mowers, outboard engines and more. Vacuumed tubes, resistors, and CRT picture tubes. Engine belts, crank start rope, washer hoses and more.
Now there was this lady who had a dispatch desk just outside the parts department and near the appliance repair department. I forgot her name but she appeared to be late fifties and kept her hair darkened with coloring. In the mornings her desk was surrounded by inside and outside repair men getting their orders for the day for TV or appliance repairs. I’m sure she loved the attention. If not annoyed.
So, one day I was attempting to find a part for a clothe washer and Had to go into the appliance repair department around the corner and see if was in the racks in that department. A place other in my parts group seldom go. So, I was rounding the corner of the racks of parts and noticed Mr. Cole in full embrace with the lady with the colored hair. I pretended to ignore their surprise release from a passionate kiss and just go on about my business. I really didn’t give it much thought and went back to the customer at the front counter. I never told anyone of this parts department romance. But I’m sure like went on well after I had left Sacramento and moved to L A to attend Pepperdine University. I just hope Mr. Cole had retired happy.

Take me for a ride baby.

Lover’s lament.
By C. Ayers

Oh, so alluring she was.
Her shape, her style, and
Just the sexy purring sound she makes
draws me closer and closer to her shapely body.
How will I ever
explain this To my wife.
If I’m seen with this
Most bewitching Beauty, my wife will
Consider
Leaving me for sure.
So, I drove my new love Back to the
Harley dealer and
Got a refund.
I might try
An E-bike next time.
Copyright, 2023

The talking church.

The talking church

Sunday morning church.

If I were the pastor of a community church, I would remove the “pulpit” and roll it into storage.  Then I would take out ALL pews and put out dozens of round dining tables that would accommodate four or five chairs for each table.  Then ask all parishioners to sit with someone you do not know.  But before sitting down help themselves to a cup of coffee or OJ.  Then get to know the folks at your table. Including Children and adults.   Start by telling them who you are and how the others can help you.  Or just talk about what happened this past week.  Do not talk about politics or what you read on facebook.  We want this to be pleasant and informative.

The pastor will roam amongst you and attempt to answer most questions.  Your bible learning will be facilitated in small groups that meet in homes.

What do you think?

My Dad and I watched Saturday night TV in L A.

Saturday night TV.
I miss real Saturday night TV. Starting back in 1952 my dad and I and maybe along with my mom would watch on KTLA Los Angeles channel 5 the Spade Cooley show. Live from the Santa Monica pier. Spade was a west coast version of Bob Wills and his Texas Playboys. Remember? A country swing band with a variety of acts. Spade had TEX Williams who sang with his giant electric guitar or it might be Tex was a midget. There was a proper lady who played the fiddle or rather the violin and wore a full-length ball gown and played classical pieces. Then there was a Minnie Pearl-like character name Lotta Chatter. Spade himself played the fiddle and sang. It all was most entertaining. But it came to an unfortunate end when Spade had shown up several times totally smashed drunk. He was asked to never come back. Later Spade in a drunken rage shot his wife and he went to prison.
Then the next guy showed up. He was Larry from Minnesota and had his own band. He too performed at the Santa Monica pier. Using his real given name, Lawrence Welk. He bought a bubble machine and hired a Champaign Lady and the rest, as they say, was history. However, I do miss Lawrence Welk as well. He had his own sound. Often called champaign music. There was Myron Florin and his sparkling accordion. He was Weird Al Yankovic’s inspiration. Then there was the guy, don’t remember his name, who sounded like he was singing from a ten-gallon baritone jug. Oh, my favorite was Bobby) former Mouseketeer) with the neon smile and danced with somebody no one knew. Then my other favorite the lovely Lennon Sisters. They had a big hit, “Sad Movies always make me cry.” Then there was the organ/piano guy with a perplexing smile. Not sure if he was smiling or sneering. The Welk show was sponsored by Geritol. An elixir for old people to give them vim and vigor. Never mind it was 20-percent alcohol.
Yes, I do miss Saturday night TV from L A. Spade and Larry! Where are yous?

Driving into the future 1956.

Motoring into the future 1956
GM Motorama was a live presentation I and others attended and saw in Los Angeles at the spacious Pan Pacific auditorium. It was an auto show displaying all of General Motors’ current cars and trucks. Chevrolet, Pontiac, Oldsmobile, Buick, Cadillac, GMC and more. Plus, some of GM’s plans for the future.
General Motors’ plans for future motoring was in a turbo-powered car driven by two small side mounted jet engines and self-driven over and guided by a copper strip laid into the driving surface. Remember this fantasy was first created back in 1956. Demonstrating the first jet powered autonomous car. Allowing the driver to switch on self-driving mode then swing around from the steering wheel and fold out a game board for playing cards with the family. All so futuristic for the 1950s. The Motorama was a ‘Gee Whiz’ event for sure. Something approaching the original 1966 Star Trek. “Beam me up, Scotty.”
However, what made it truly spectacular was its Broadway-like live presentation. First a theater size movie screen folded down from the ceiling, the lights dimmed, and the movie and sound presentation began. This futuristic jet car, as projected on the screen, was whooshing along the self-driving highway. But then a Corus of six or eight voices began singing in a peppy Broadway fashion. Singing along with a ten- or twelve-piece orchestra and narrated by a live announcer. It was first class. It was obvious the singers and band were class ‘A’ performers. Remember this was just next door to Hollywood and CBS Television City. The performance was as good as Broadway. The whole thing was worth our undivided attention. Almost made one want to step in and tap dance along. Bravo, bravo. Not sure what they sang but the singers and band were outstanding and most professional.
To witness what I saw and heard go to:

There are a couple of commercial at first and we DO NOT endorse them. Please ignore.