A poem from the Red Dirt Plaines.

Okie Poetry This sure am not Hollywood Nineteen forty-one was the year Carl, Sr. and his bashful bride Left the parched and dry farm. They arrived in the coast to the west with two Toddlers in tow. Carl, Jr. and Peggy Sue. The four of them fresh off The Route some called 66. One man’sContinue reading “A poem from the Red Dirt Plaines.”

It was easy money. One bottle at a time.

Los Angeles 1952: The start-up. We were partners in a recycling business. And when I say we I mean my partner Donnie Shorts. My new best friend who moved here to our neighborhood from Milwaukee, Wisconsin. What we did discover early on was that we both needed money. Money is what would enable and fundContinue reading “It was easy money. One bottle at a time.”

He could perform supernatural magic with his three red feathered chickens.

Butchy the chicken whisperer He doesn’t like to compare himself to Harry Potter but Butchy the chicken whisperer has magical mystical powers over his following of chickens. Three in all. All Rhode Island Reds named Manny, Moe, and Jack. A trio of cluckers who think they have special divining powers to find buried treasures. AfterContinue reading “He could perform supernatural magic with his three red feathered chickens.”

What you have to do when your credentials fail you.

If you remember the last time we got together I mentioned to you I was a chicken whisperer. I chose this vocation because wearing cheap wire rim glasses disqualifies me to be what I really wanted to be. Roy Rogers. Roy Rogers does not wear glasses. I wear glasses. And yes, broke them three orContinue reading “What you have to do when your credentials fail you.”

Was it skating or dancing?

Thou Shall not dance. Especially with the opposite sex. Boys and girls were forbidden to dance with each other. At least this was the doctrinaire of our fundamentalist church. However, the first Monday evening of each month way back when we kids would go with an older couple in their twenties to Pasadena at theContinue reading “Was it skating or dancing?”

Fuzzy yellow baby chicks.

So do you remember those Easter egg hunts? Finding plastic eggs with little toy fuzzy yellow chickies inside? However, my personal favorite was a chocolate Easter egg. But speaking of fuzzy chickies, back when my family lived in East Los Angeles in the early 1950’s had a back yard full of Rhode Island Reds. AContinue reading “Fuzzy yellow baby chicks.”

Butchy the Chicken Whisperer Final Chapter.

But Santa needs a chimney doesn’t he? It was simple to surmise there was a serious problem here. The problem was not only one of utility and movement up and down but access. Access as in a convenient entry and subsequent distribution of goods. And If I, an entry-level elementary student, could see this puzzlingContinue reading “Butchy the Chicken Whisperer Final Chapter.”

The Tree.

If you had driven down South Simmons Avenue in East Los Angeles back in 1950 at Christmas time and passed a little white adobe house at 1318 and stopped and looked in the window you would have seen what looks like a Charlie Brown-like Christmas Tree. Frail and sparse. No more that a half dozenContinue reading “The Tree.”

Christmas Los Angeles 1953.

I received as a Christmas gift from my mom and dad a red Schwinn 26-inch single speed bicycle. It had plane black handle grips, big fat balloon tires, and coaster breaks. Breaks you had to pedal backwards in order to stop. The bike was the most basic model. It was like a Ford Fiesta withContinue reading “Christmas Los Angeles 1953.”

Butchy the Chicken Whisperer chap 11.

Both of my sisters don’t wear glasses. So, why me? Why do I have to wear glasses? I’m a boy. A boy shouldn’t wear glasses. My sisters should wear glasses but don’t. Why not! But come to think of it, Teddy Roosevelt wore glasses He was a cowboy of sorts but didn’t sing. Right? HeContinue reading “Butchy the Chicken Whisperer chap 11.”