Spitball Army

“Margie” (1920) by The Original Dixieland Jazz Band

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Of course, there is always something that can go wrong, and my driver’s license expired on 9.1, so I was flagged as “SSSS” or “special screening.” It basically meant nothing more than being sent through a separate line and being paid extra special attention. That was OK by me.

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Swimming lessons in the morning were followed by an hour or two on the monkey bars, which were followed by splashing and diving at the pool which, in turn, led to swinging and teeter-tottering into the twilight hours. But for me, ultimately, the emphasis was on the happenings at the swimming pool. I was a water baby.

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I remember when you were building that fence, we used to watch the woman who lived on the corner walk her dog up the alley and let it take a dump right behind my house. She’d just stand there watching it, smoking a cigarette. You eventually got talking with her, and she coincidentally stopped using my backyard as her dog’s potty. Well, she died last year, after battling on and off again with cancer. We had become friendly. She used to ask about you all the time.

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Today I was sidelined with the incapcitating numbies, which is what I am calling the non-specific dizzyness and lethargy that I am associating with a cold. I also can’t sit still in one place today. So I am taking the opportunity to spend the afternoon in my office, clearing out the crap.

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How to Pull Weeds

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That night, I experienced an extremely vivid nightmare wherein rows and rows of fruit trees marched in formation toward me, hurling rotten tangerines and dirt clods at my head while “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” roared in the background.

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At Oceanside harbor, California. I am guessing this was taken around 1964.

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One day, on my way in to school, I was coasting down the mountain on my 10-speed and a harried woman came barreling around the corner, rushing to get her kid to school and herself to work on time. She just appeared there in front of me, coming directly at me in my lane. There was no time to react, other than to slam on the brakes and try to absorb the collision with my front tire. And that is what happened.

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The padre invited me to play a game of cards. I accepted. We played and he won all the sugar. I did not know the game and I had no idea that the priest would win, but he did and I returned home with nothing. When I turned over the sugar to him, Father Menendez said to me: “See here, Pico, it has happened to you as it did to Christ when he came into the world.”

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