Fragments
In Clover fields
In the green and sandy days of ago, when the clothes were hand-me-downs and no jeans had knees, we rode (yes, helmetless) with the wind in our hair, sometimes without working brakes, through the streets and alleys and vacant lots of the west side of LA, not knowing that it would end. On the sandlot … Continue reading
ER
Because I had served as a medic (SAC 452nd Medical Aero-Vac), when I came out of the service in ’67 I was hired as an orderly at Santa Monica Hospital in the Emergency Room. At that time, SM ER served all of the west side of LA. I had no idea what I was in … Continue reading
Lessons Learned: the uncorked truth.
In the middle of my senior year in High school, 1963, my pal Tim McGee helped me score a job working for Pearson’s Brentwood, the premier wine cellar of the Westside. Located on the corner of 26th and San Vicente, just across from the Brentwood Mart, Pearson’s was not the usual liquor store. First of … Continue reading
My Life as a Mad Man
Recently, Meredy and I began to watch Mad Men. I know… we live behind the curve. (We have also begun to re-watch the entire Cheers series from the beginning). When I was in high school, pretty much the time frame of this series, being an adman was what I wanted from life. At least it … Continue reading
Easy Money
In my early college years, Herb Chase, a man who was kind to me in many ways over the years, hired me to help layout ads for his paper, the Independent Journal, in Santa Monica. The paper was laid out on boards, photographed and reduced to 70% and sent to press. I liked the work, … Continue reading
Lane
I was shut in an empty classroom with 3×5 cards color coded and spread across two tables. I was trying to create class schedules for the some 20 odd students that comprised The Happy Valley School in 1978. Dr. Lunt, the HVS Director, keyed into the room followed by a tall bearded fellow, a prospective … Continue reading
Signs
When I was I high school I stole signs. I am not sure why, but I thought that having lots of signs was cool. My room was decorated with random street signs, stop signs, yield signs, no parking /trespassing/smoking/swimming/nudity. My closet door sported the sign for the faculty room at St. Monica’s; my desk … Continue reading
Beato
The artist, Beatrice Wood, died in March of 1998. She had just turned 105. For the last 20 years of her life she was my friend and I hers. From 1990-98 we were also next door neighbors. Her studio was about 100 feet up the hill from my bedroom and it was common for me … Continue reading
Jazz
I’ve tried to think about it, tried to figure out how a kid who grew up as I did could have learned to like, let alone love, jazz. It doesn’t make much sense. I can’t even imagine how I ever heard it. This should be one of those pieces where the guy tells about … Continue reading
Leo
From the first day of our freshman year we could tell that Leo was different. He wasn’t different in the way of some special education candidate. Oh, he was educationally challenged all right, but not in any way that you could stick a label on. He just wasn’t made for school. The rest of … Continue reading