Says Ray

Raymond Carl L'Amoreaux

2011-05-25T20:47:00.000-07:00

Raymond Carl L'Amoreaux
November 11th, 1918 - May 13th, 2011

*photo taken in Kauai in June 2010
A Note From His Daughters
Our Dad passed away peacefully and surrounded in love. He was active and of vibrant mind until
one week before he passed. He taught us to live a life you love. He lead by example and treated our mother with love, respect and tender loving care. Our dad loved his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren dearly. Through his death he taught us how precious life is and to see the beauty and joy present during sad and difficult times. We love him so much. We are forever grateful to have had such a loving and inspirational father. We will miss him every day.

We thank all of you for your kindness, support and love for our father.

Obituary of Raymond Carl L’Amoreaux
November 11, 1918 – May 13, 2011

Ray was born on November 11, 1918 in Hillsdale, Michigan. On that day, the first Armistice was celebrated, ending World War I. The peace treaty was signed in France at 11 a.m. (6 a.m. EST) and Ray was born 20 minutes later. Ray’s mother told the story of Ray’s birth many times during her long life. She said that the doctor came to their home on Sunday night to deliver Ray. He came up to the house on the walk, smoking his cigar. He placed it on the porch railing and went inside to check on her. He decided that she wasn’t ready to deliver her first child, so he decided to stay all night-sleeping on the davenport. Then, at 6:20 Monday morning, he delivered an eight-pound boy!

Ray graduated from Berea (Ohio) high school, class of ’36. He went one year to Baldwin Wallace College – also in Berea. His family moved to Ypsilanti in July 1937.

Ray enlisted in the Army Air Corps on March 28, 1941 in Detroit. He graduated from the Aviation Mechanics’ School at Scott Field. He was assigned to Gunter Field at Montgomery, Alabama, where he was a crew chief on a Vultee BT-13. From Gunter Field he was assigned to Maxwell Field – still in Montgomery, to the Aviation Cadet program. He went through bombardier training at Victorville. Ray received his bombardier wings, and his 2^nd Lt. Commission, on October 31, 1942.

He went on to fly 50 combat missions in B-17’s with the 2^ndBomb Group – part of General Jimmy Doolittle’s Twelfth Air Force, in North Africa. Ray was assigned to the Fifth Air Force and served in the Southeast Asian campaign, flying B-25’s. Later, in 1998, Ray was presented with the Distinguished Flying Cross (DFC) at Travis Air Force Base, California, for his acts of extraordinary achievement.

After serving in World War II Ray returned to college under the G.I. Bill. He spent one year at the University of Michigan, in Ann Arbor, and then transferred to Cal – Berkeley. He graduated with a B.S. degree in February 1949.

Ray’s first job, after college, was as an industrial engineer with U.S. Steel in Pittsburg. In the spring of 1951 he was recalled to active duty by the Air Force and served during the Korean War. He was stationed at Mather Field, Sacramento, and piloted Convair T-29’s used to train B-47 pilots in radar bombardiering and radar navigation.

He returned to Columbia Steel, after his separation from the Air Force, in 1953. In 1958C. Brewer hired him as Olokele Sugar Company’s first industrial engineer. Marie and Ray, and three daughters, left San Francisco for Honolulu, on January 15, 1958, on a United Airlines DC-6.

Their Hawaii experience was interesting - historically. They arrived when the islands were still a Territory of the U.S. A year later, it became our 50^th State! Two of their five daughters, Joan and Sue, were born in the Waimea hospital on Kauai. The family moved back to the mainland in September 1962, finally settling in Vallejo.

Ray started work as a Methods Engineer for California & Hawaiian Sugar Company, in Crockett. In 1969, he was promoted to work in the San Francisco corporate office. He retired as the Manager of Internal Auditing in 1983, after having worked in the sugar industry for 25 years.

During his working years, Ray was very active in the organizations of his professions. He was president of both the San Francisco-Oakland Chapters of the Institute of Industrial Engineers, and of the Institute of Industrial Engineers, and of the Institute of Internal Auditors. He was certified in both disciplines, and was licensed by the State of California as a professional Industrial Engineer.

Ray had many interests during his lengthy retirement. Marie and Ray traveled extensively – visiting nearly every state, enjoying visiting the Presidents’ Homes and Libraries, and other points of interest. Their travels also involved six trips to Europe. In his 90’s, Ray made several travel trips. In 2009 he traveled to San Diego for his oldest granddaughter’s wedding and then on a bus tour across the United States to see Mt. Rushmore. In June 2010, Ray traveled to Kauai, Hawaii with his daughters and in October 2010 he rode the train to New Orleans.

Ray enjoyed learning new things and audited classes on “Successful Aging” at Cal-Berkeley for many years. He also attended numerous baseball games as a season ticket holder for the Oakland Athletics.

He enjoyed the new experiences of volunteer work and served on many Boards and Committees during his retirement: Solano Ombudsman, Board of Directors; St Dominic’s Church, Finance Committee; Napa/Solano Area Agency on Aging, Advisory Council; City of Vallejo Citizens Budget Advisory Committee; Commission on Aging; Executive Board, Vallejo Senior Citizens’ Council; Solano County Grand Jury.

In 2008 Ray and his wife Marie moved from Vallejo to Paradise Valley Estates in Fairfield to be closer to their family and last year Ray moved to the Veteran’s Home in Yountville.

The family mourns their great loss – his wife of 66 years Marie; daughters Anne Maher, Mary (Greg) Torres, Beth (Jack) Abercrombie, Joan (Manny) Morais, and Susan (Tom) Chilson, grandchildren Doug Maher, Brad (Kristin) Maher, Daniel & Jason Torres, Jessica Nguyen, Jaclyn Abercrombie, Melissa Morais Parr, Michelle & Brittney Morais, Kaitlyn Chilson, and seven great-grandchildren; Jobey Maher, Bailey Maher, Dakota Maher, Colton Maher and Trenton Maher.

* * *

Ray's Legacy

Ray was a loving husband, father, grandfather, and friend. He enjoyed life very much, because of his love of people and his relationship to them.

He was thoughtful of others and unselfish. He would send cards, small gifts, and newspaper clippings to many of his family, friends, and acquaintances. He once said that he never read an article, whether it be in a magazine, or a newspaper, in which he didn't recall a person related to an interest in that subject matter. He usually would then clip- or copy, the article and send it to that person.

Ray had a great sense of humor- thanks to his mother and her Irish background. He was also quick-tempered, which he blamed on his French ancestry. While he was aware of these faults, and worked at overcoming them, he did not succeed.

Ray's dad worked for the New York Central Railroad for over 40 years. Ray followed in his dad's footsteps, and rode the trains for thousands of miles- usually on his dad's NYC Pass.

Consequently, Ray had always liked trains, and their many sounds. When he heard the train's diesel horn, coming from the Crockett and Martinez area, he had the urge to ride on the train once again. Ray caught the night train on May 13th, 2011 at the great age of 92.

Ray was ready to die. He crowded a lot of different activities in his 92 years and was very thankful for all those years of life.

After death he wanted a celebration of his life- with a party- rather than dwell on a morbid funeral.

He liked music very much- especially that of the 30's and 40's. Ray's dad was a musician- playing both the violin and E-flat alto horn (a tone similar to a French horn). Ray played this same instrument (his dad's) in his Berea high school band.

"As you live each day you are "writing" the story of your life!" RCL 2/3/06

* * *

RAY’S EULOGY

Delivered by his daughter, Mary Torres, at Ray's Funeral Mass.

Thank you all for being here today to honor my dad. As many of you know my dad was a planner and always wanted to be prepared for any situation. So it is no surprise that he prepared his last days and death by putting everything in writing-including his own eulogy-in a manual titled "Ray's Final Exit". Being my father's daughter I have also added my "two cents" into this final tribute.

My dad was one of a kind. When God made him He forgot the blueprint. Dad's Irish and French heritage was quite a combination-which he attributed to his humor, occasional display of a temper, and stubborn streak.

Dad tried to do his best, and he urged each of his daughters to do the same. He was inquisitive and always interested in others life stories. Dad walked the walk of “treating others as you would want to be treated”.

He was a collector & saver -from empty boxes to photos, and newspaper and magazine articles - a result of being a young boy growing up during the 1930’s and the Great Depression.

Dad was thoughtful of others – usually remembering birthdays (he got this from my Grandma L’Amoreaux), and anniversaries – get well and sympathy cards – or even “I’m Thinking of You” cards.

He also was known for sending Wall Street Journal articles, to people that he knew who shared the interest of the clipping.

Dad enjoyed his family very much and cherished the time spent together on our many get-togethers. Whether it was a picnic at Sonoma’s City Park, an A’s game, camping trips, Christmas Eve’s (he played a good Santa Claus too), Thanksgivings, and family birthday gatherings. Dad was also a regular attendee at the grandkids various sporting events and school functions.

He and my mom liked to travel and when he retired they hit the road. Dad filled many photo albums with pictures, post cards and other memorabilla from all of their many trips - including visiting Europe six times!

Dad was an avid sports fan. He used to play golf and bowl and even took up bocce ball when he moved to Fairfield. He was also a sports spectator attending many baseball games as a season ticket holder for the Oakland Athletics.

Dad taught us so much about how to live. He was a student of life – always wanting to learn something new, including attending classes at Cal-Berkeley, during his retirement years and graduating from the UC Davis Mini Medical School at the age of 90.

He was a traveler, writer, and a nature lover. On his trip in 2009 to Wyoming, Montana, Utah, Nebraska and some of the National Parks he wrote:

"I was in such awe of the quiet, peaceful, and natural beauty of this great land of ours! In the big scheme of things, I felt so humble and insignificant. The scenery was most inspirational. How can one view such splendor and not comprehend a Supreme Being?"

Dad’s favorite poet, Edgar Guest, was also a native Michigan Wolverine. The following is one of Edgar’s poems, which he especially liked and asked to be read at his memorial service.

"I'd like to think when life is done that I had filled a needed post;

That here and there I'd paid my fare with more than idle talk and boast;

That I had taken gifts divine, the breath of life and manhood fine; and tried to use

them now and then in service for my fellow man."

I know that dad is watching over us. He is busy with the new tasks at hand and reviewing the policies & procedures manual that was given to him at the pearly gates. We will miss him, and are better human beings for having known him. Farewell dad! You will live in our hearts forever.

* * *

Galoshes

2011-03-03T12:32:00.001-08:00

GALOSHES, OR OVERSHOES.
Today, I am in the mood to blog. What motivates me is Barry Newman’s excellent column in today’s (Thursday, March 3, 2011) Wall Street Journal - “The Time May be Right For Galoshes To Make A Splash Again.”
His write-up brought back many memories of my experience with galoshes/overshoes, over 80 years ago. Putting them on, and taking them off, were not a problem. We took them for granted - they were part of our outdoor- winter “uniform”.
Barry did a good job describing this necessity of the past winters of long ago. I will only quibble with the article’s photographs. Those foot coverings aren’t galoshes - they are rubbers. Galoshes came half way up the calf, and fancier. They were easy to put on (unless they weren’t the right size - too small.). At the time, I was young enough to still wear knickers. But the older kids and men, would tuck their trouser cuffs inside the overshoe before they would fasten them up. The fasteners were very functional. There were four or five snap-over buckles, which were easy to close with cold hands. They not only kept my feet warm. But also dry. The ‘shoes’ were also thinly lined, which made them warmer.
We didn’t have a car back in those days, so my Mom and Dad did a lot of walking. They always wore the foot covering when going outside in the winter. They didn’t care about “looks”. Comfort always trumped style, We had lots of them, sitting on the floor, in the small room inside the back door, where our family of six stored all of our outside clothing. It is a wonder that we could tell them apart.
Today, you can’t get people to abandon their cars - even in winter - when driving on snow and ice is a real challenge and a hazard. So, I question whether the galosh/overshoe foot covering in winter will make a comeback. I am sure if you tried them for the first time you would be sold on the footwear!
Congratulations, Barry, on your interesting and informative column.
RCL - 3/3/11.

From Peaceful to Violent Streets

2011-01-31T13:43:00.000-08:00

From Peaceful to Violent Streets.
I was fortunate to have been stationed in North Africa for about seven months in 1943.
Our 2nd Bomb Group was en-route to join the 8th air Force in England during March of 1943, as replacement crews. We flew our new B-17 over to North Africa, using the South-Atlantic route - West Palm Beach, Trinidad, Belem, Natal, Ascension Island, Dakar, and then up to Marrakech, Morocco. While in Marrakech, Field Marshall Rommel (who headed up the German Afrika Corps) broke through General Montgomery’s Eighth Army’s position and forced them to retreat at Kasserine Pass. The “powers that be” changed our orders, and assigned us to the African front. We were part of General Jimmy Doolittle’s Twelfth Air Force. The Group remained in Africa until after the invasion of Italy in September 1943.
During this time, when we weren’t flying missions, we had leisure time to “swim” in the Mediterranean sea, or visit the very interesting cities in Morocco, Algeria and Tunisia. I also got to spend a week on R & R in Cairo. While playing “tourist”, I was very observant of the large crowds in the bazaars and waking peacefully on the streets of Tunis. The people in Tunis, either spoke Arabic or French, which was very interesting to me. The French influence came in 1881 when France became their protectorate. Tunisia became an independent state in 1956. The British invaded Egypt in 1882, and they became an independent country in 1922.
This experience has motivated me to follow foreign affairs in the Middle East - primarily on the Lehrer/PBS News Hour and the Wall Street Journal. Based on my experiences nearly 70 years ago, I was very surprised, and saddened, by the recent news of the violent protests in the streets of Tunis and Cairo. This didn’t reflect my pleasant experiences of the time when I walked those very same streets and felt safe and secure.
In Tunis, Ray Bernier - our navigator; a fellow bombardier - “Red Bird”, and Bob Wolfcale, a navigator, would jump in a jeep and travel about 20 miles to Tunis. While there, we would usually go to mass at the St. Vincent de Paul Cathedral. We also visited the Cathedral in nearby Carthage, after a swim.
We visited the Red Cross Club for servicemen, where we could get doughnuts and ice cream. Near the Cathedral in Tunis, was a very nice hotel with a huge porch, I think it was the Hotel Tunis. We would sit in the large wicker - rocking chairs, sipping our cool drinks, and “people watch.” (I suppose that a new hotel sits on the spot today.)
The “powers that be” thought a few us were getting “flak happy” from flying so many combat missions. Our Flight Surgeon suggested that we be given an R&R leave to Cairo. I was fortunate to be one of the chosen group. They let us use a “stripped down” B-17, and we flew from Tunis to Cairo and back - an 8-9 hour flight each way.
We stayed at a B & B in Heliopolis - a suburb of Cairo. The city of Cairo is known for it’s large crowds, and beautiful architecture. I can attest to that! I particularly enjoyed visiting the Bazaar, and even went inside a very beautiful mosque. I bought a few souvenirs in the Bazaar. The merchants liked to bargain, and haggle over the final price. I must have disappointed them, because I didn’t have this skill, and consequently, probably paid more than full price.

We visited the Shepeard Hotel near the American Embassy. It was a five star at the time.

Back to today. It saddens me when I compare my pleasant experiences, nearly 70 years ago, in Tunis and Cairo, with the turmoil in the streets there today - justified or not.

RCL - 1/31/11.

ORIENTATION at CALIFORNIA VETERANS HOME.

2010-12-27T16:48:00.000-08:00

VETS HOME ORIENTATION.
I have been a resident here six weeks now. I have completed my Orientation already, even though I was told that it could take two to three months. During one of my early sessions, I met Jim Scheers. He has been here a couple of weeks longer. I am glad that our paths crossed. He is very friendly and outgoing. We have something in common! We are nonagenarians. Jim is 95, and I am trailing him by three years.
During our conversations, I learned that he was an author. He has written 25 books - some in collaboration with other authors. His writing career spans about 50 years, and he is currently writing another book! I mentioned Jim to our daughter, Joan. She was familiar with his books, and said that she has two of them.
This morning we ate breakfast together. He happened to mention that if he were eating alone, he would be “writing” in his head. I asked him if he would remember it, and he said “yes”. He would transcribe his thoughts after he got back to his room.
Jim has an interesting philosophy of life. He told me about a guy, after learning that Jim was 95, asked him if he enjoyed being 95 Jim said, “Oh yes”. The guy said, “but you are closer to dying!” Jim replied, “Everyone is going to die, and I am ready. The guy asked “why?” Jim said “Because I am planning on going to heaven. I have led a good life, geared towards this goal. Jim’s mantra is John 3:3. While I consider myself being spiritual, I was not sure of John3:3, so I Googled it, with the following results:
John 3:3 (King James version.) “Jesus answered and said unto him, Verily. verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.”
The the new International version, is similar. “Jesus replied, Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again.”
Footnote:
The Greek for “again” also means “from above”.
Jim’s faith is very interesting and convincing. 12/27/10.

P.S. Mary and Greg invited me over for lunch on Sunday - the day after Christmas. Mary read the quote on the label of her Honest Ade drink. "Do not regret growing old. It is a privilege denied to many." - Author Unknown.
I think it fits in perfectly here!
RCL 12/28/10.

RCL - 12/27/10.

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PEARL HARBOR

2010-12-12T09:37:00.000-08:00

Pearl Harbor Remembrance.
Today, is the 69th anniversary of the “infamous” Sunday, December 7th, 1941, when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, in Honolulu. This sad day marked our active participation in World War II.
Today is also the birthday of our youngest daughter Susan, who was born in the Wilcox hospital at Waimea, Kauai. Also, my good friend Jim Leslie is celebrating his “double-eight” birthday back in Ypsilanti.
I recently moved here to the California Veterans Home, in Yountville. A large group of us are having breakfast. The subject of conversation at the nearby tables is, of course, Pearl Harbor. I wonder how many men, and women, in this large dining room, were there, in Honolulu, on that day?
My memory of the day is still vivid - like it was only yesterday!
The human brain is quite a remarkable organ to be able to store data, and release it upon demand, 69 years later!
I had enlisted in the Army Air Corps on March 26, 1941 - in Detroit. On this day, I was stationed at Gunter Field in Montgomery, Alabama. I was a Crew Chief of a Vultee Basic Trainer 13. Our mission was to train English lads to fly.
Being a Sunday, four of my friends and I decided to drive to Birmingham (about 100 miles) to spend the day. I was sandwiched in the middle of the back seat - no seat belts back then. I can’t remember the type of car, and who owned it. We had the car radio “on”. All of a sudden an “Alert” was broadcast “All military personnel report to your bases immediately.” One of us said, “Turn off the radio”, and we decided to keep going. So, we sped along as if nothing had happened!
After spending the day sight-seeing in Birmingham, we returned to Gunter Field. I was immediately assigned to “Guard Duty”. I was given an Enfield rifle (WW I vintage,) but no ammunition. I don’t remember having any rifle training in “Boot Camp”. I can still remember walking around the buildings on that cool, spooky December night.
RCL - 12/9/10.

THE TENTH INNING

2010-10-03T20:42:00.000-07:00

THE TENTH INNING.
I had anticipated seeing Ken Burn’s documentary on baseball for quite a while. This week I finally got to see the two episodes. I never thought that I would get tired of seeing the “home run swing”. But, during the two showings, I got “homered” out. The fact that HGS provided the “oomph” for a lot of them, didn’t help. I think the traditional- role model athlete is a thing of the past. The millionaire prima donnas, of today’s sport world, are a poor substitute for my old heroes!
Pete Rose has been denied entrance into the Baseball Hall of Fame, because of a character flaw. The same reasoning should be used to exclude the baseball players who are guilty of using performance -enhancing drugs.
This documentary wasn’t a total loss, for it had many redeeming features. It covered many stadiums and players that I had either seen in the ball parks, or on many of the old TV shots that were used in this documentary. Having lived near three American League cities (Detroit, Cleveland and Oakland), I was naturally an American League fan - for as long as I can remember. My memory is still clear, even though it covers about 82 years since I saw my first major league baseball game. We were living in Hillsdale Michigan during the 1920’s. When I was about 8, my Dad took me to Detroit( 100 miles), to see the Tigers play, at Navin Field on Michigan Avenue. This was an all- day outing - on a Sunday. I said that my memory is good, yet, I can’t remember who the Tigers played on that day. (strange!).
We started out early in the morning. My Grandpa Flood, my Mom’s dad, was also along. I don’t even remember having a flat tire, to or from the game. My grandpa owned the 1927 Chevrolet touring car, but he didn’t drive. My Dad drove, but he didn’t own a car. So it was a great reciprocal combination. I do remember one harrowing experience on our way to Detroit. We were “speeding” (probably at 35 mph) in the Irish Hills (on highway 112), when a strap - holding the fabric top to the header of the windshield - broke. The top went swooshing back. Thinking back, it is a wonder that my Dad controlled the car. I don’t remember how he fixed it, but soon we were off again to Detroit. An aside. The touring car had curtains, with eisen glass little windows. In nice weather, the curtains were stored under the rear seat - with the air pump and tube repair kit. So, if it started to rain, my Dad would stop the car, and my Mom and grandmother would have to get out, so that my Dad could remove the curtains. The gas tank was beneath the front seat. So, before a trip my Dad would take a flat -wooden stick, which was calibrated to read out in “gallons”. He would dip the stick into the tank to see how much gas remained. When we got gas, everyone had to leave the front seat, in order to access the neck of the tank.
Back to Detroit and baseball. While I don’t remember much about the game that Sunday, so long ago, I do remember my Dad keeping score as the game progressed. He showed me his technique, including all of the symbols for “strikeouts”, “base on balls”, “errors” etc. I tried his system, for a few games, after I started going to the games alone. It certainly forces you to pay attention to what is going on down on the field. My problem was that I would lose my concentration, and start watching the fans and vendors instead of scoring. So, finally I had to forget keeping track of every play, and let my attention wander as it pleased.
Viewing the documentary was quite interesting and fascinating, because I had seen so many of the players mentioned, actually playing. I go back to having actually seen the following players play - Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Ted Williams, Lefty Grove, and Bob Feller, who was the best right-handed pitcher that I ever saw. Feller was born 8 days before I was. I saw him pitch as a rookie in 1936, in League Park in Cleveland. He was only 17! (In his first big league game before this, he struck out 17 batters - at 17 years of age!). I saw many other old-time stars, also.
Of course, I have seen many of the modern baseball stars. I enjoyed having a Week-day Season Ticket to the Oakland Athletics games in Oakland, for about 15 years. I saw the following players (may of whom were mentioned in the documentary) at the Oakland Coliseum, or at Candlestick/Pac Bell Parks - Reggie Jackson, Mark McGwire, Jose Canseco, Billy Martin, Willie Mays, Barry Bonds, Vida Blue, Jason Giambi, Alex Rodriquez, Derek Jeter, Nolan Ryan and Roger Clemons. While I never saw Ty Cobb run the bases, I have seen Rickey Henderson steal many bases. He was by far the best base stealer that I ever saw.
A couple of baseball highlights of mine were that I got to see two World Series games. The first was the Detroit Tigers playing the Cincinnati Reds, in the fall of 1940, at Briggs Stadium in Detroit. I was living in Ypsilanti, and “sweating out” being drafted, prior to World war II. The next - and last World Series game that I saw - was in 1972, 1973 or 1974, when Oakland was the American League Champion all three years. I was working for California and Hawaiian Sugar Company at their corporate office in San Francisco. While I remember my boss, Ken Black, inviting me to accompany him, I don’t remember which National League team Oakland played.
An aside: While living in Berea, in 1936, my Dad took me to an exhibition football game in the new Cleveland Municipal Stadium on the waterfront. What an ideal and pretty setting - right on the shore of Lake Erie. I was really impressed with the huge size of the facility. It held 78,000 people for baseball games and 81,000 for football! Today, that would seem small compared to the University of Michigan stadium in Ann Arbor, which seats 110,000. The Chicago Bears were playing the Cleveland Browns. Red Grange was the star of the Bears. He was a great runner - the best that I have ever seen - even at the tail end of his pro career. I only wish that I had seen him play when he was a student at the University of Illinois, where he ran wild against other teams in the Big Ten.

After viewing the Ken Burn’s Special on TV, I had a bad taste in my mouth. I was really disappointed that professional athletes would abuse their bodies with performance enhancing drugs, to promote their fame and fortune. To make matters worse, some denied using steroids - even under oath! Reinforcing my view was the disgraceful acceptance of such an ugly culture by the Commissioner of Baseball, and the powerful players’ Union. Our Society, in general, and Sports in particular, took one in the gut - motivated by vanity and greed - by thoughtless egomaniacs. A black day for America indeed!
RCL - 10/1/10
10/2/10
10/3/10.

ISCHIA

2010-08-09T09:29:00.001-07:00

ISCHIA
I received my September copy of Traveler today. I was surprised to see “Ischia’ listed on the cover. This is a small island in the Tyrrhenian Sea, 20 miles west of Naples. I hadn’t thought of this island for over 67 years - ever since I used to fly in between this island and the Isle of Capri during our bomb run on Naples. I was a bombardier on a B-17 Flying Fortress. We were part of the 2nd Bomb Group, which was part of General Jimmy Doolittle’s Twelfth Air Force. I could spot the Island, down to the left, from my perch in the nose of the plane. We usually were about five miles high and indicating about 150 mph, on an easterly- inbound course, over the Bay of Naples. What I remember most about the view were the red-tiled roofs on the buildings. The little island looked very peaceful.
I was on four missions to Naples - two of the targets were shipping in the harbor area. One was the rail- marshalling yards and the other was the Capodichino airdrome. The Naples area was our roughest target area. We had our largest losses of crews and planes. The German 88 guns were very accurate. Sometimes, the black smoke from their bursting anti-aircraft shells was so thick, it looked like I could walk on it. These guns were not only shore batteries, but some 88’s were mounted on barges moored in the harbor. Besides all the flak, we had to contend with the German Me-109’s and FW- 190 fighter planes which attacked our formation. We were unescorted, because Naples (from North Africa) was beyond the range of our P-38’s.
I always hoped that I could return and view this beautiful country close-up - from ground level. My wish was realized in 1985 - 43 years later. I had been retired from C & H Sugar Co. for two years, when Marie and I went to Italy. We visited Rome; Florence; Venice; Naples and the Isle of Capri. I enjoyed flying on the Alitalia air line.
RCL - 8/9/10.

CACHE CREEK CASINO

2010-08-07T13:21:00.000-07:00

CACHE CREEK-2
Today is July 14, 2010. We are leaving Quail Creek at 9:15, headed for the Cache Creek Casino, located at Brooke - near Winters. It is time for me to pay my “annual dues”. It is also a beautiful day to be cooped up inside - but one has to do what one has to do! Nearby, Manual Campos Drive is now open. They did a great job on it, and it is a very appealing thoroughfare. The landscaping job is very attractive. This new road will save about five minutes between Quail Creek and the freeway. The rolling hills are a pretty golden brown now, in mid-summer.
We are heading eastbound on I-80, and will exit on to the 505. Traffic is quite light. I would think that there were more vacationers out. We are passing irrigated sugar- beet fields and orchards. This is a very fertile area. We turn off the 505, and head west on the two-way Highway 16, to Esparto. This is a “Daylight Headlight” section - a deterrent to head-on collisions between cars passing in opposite directions.
I notice a sign, “Manca’s Ranch - Fresh Apricots.” A little farther, in Esparto, there is a roadside sign - “Sweet Cherries”. The small burg of Copay ahead, with a 35 MPH posting. I was surprised to see a large vineyard here. It is a pretty drive through this area - about 15 minutes from Esparto. We arrive at the Casino 10:05. I am surprised to see eight “gambler” busses already here. The last time we came, there was only one!
The Casino is one large place - but still very crowded, noisy and smokey. You wouldn’t come here if you were looking for a health resort. I decided to play the nickel machine, but had more trouble than before locating a vacant one. We had two hours - before re-gathering for lunch - so I put a 20 dollar bill in the machine. The last time, there were a lot of vacant machines. But, not this time. I didn’t notice so many one and two cent machines last time. Today, these were all packed with gamblers! I would guess that the management removed some nickel machines and replaced them with the “Cents’ machines.
I “cashed out” before lunch, and had a $10 credit left, which was imprinted on my Cache Creek Club card. I had a nice lunch at Kung Fu Fats restaurant in the Casino - a bowl of chicken-noodle soup. It was very good. My fortune cookie insert says, “You will attend an unusual party and meet someone important.” It didn’t give the date of the party, and directions, though. I had a ten dollar credit remaining, from the original $25 credit I received, when I registered for the first time, the last time we were here. So, I guess you can say that I broke even - considering my $10 “donation” to the slot machine.
I have another couple of hours before our scheduled departure for Quail Creek, so might as well invest the remaining $10 credit on my Club card. It was difficult to find a nickel machine, just as before lunch. You can just push a button on the slot machine to activate the three reels. The old fashioned way of pulling the lever also works. I decided to do this. It is not only the most familiar to me, but I feel that it will slow down “feeding money” (this is automatic - controlled by the remaining credit on your Club card that you inserted to start play,) into the machine. Too, I feel more in control of the action with my manual operation. You can also speed up your “dues paying” by playing five nickels at a time. While this method will multiply your “winnings” by five, it also has the same effect on your losing! I selected the horizontal middle line for my play. It is interesting to watch the results on the two lines above, and the other two lines below my middle line. The winning (and losing) combinations are also shown, but there are no payouts for these lines. I was tempted to chase after the paying results shown on the other four lines, by changing the line that I was playing, to the line that just showed a winning combination. I know this is confusing. You will just have to go and check it out, to better understand the options. I would win some and then lose some, by sticking with the middle line. Finally, I had “slot fatigue”, and decided to cash out the $10 that I started with over an hour ago.
I “people watched” until it was time for us to leave. It was interesting watching the people scrambling to board their busses. We departed at 2:25. One of the eight bus drivers was in a big hurry. Tony had to park in front of one of the buses to load the power chairs. The driver was in a big hurry and complaining about our holding up his departure. We had a young CNA along to help Kelli. JV whipped out his I phone and called the phone number listed on the back of the bus. He got a “this number is no longer in service”. So, JV went to this phone directory, and got the phone number of the bus lines. He called this number and reported the offending driver to the dispatcher. I thought JV’s fast reaction to the situation was pretty classy for a young fellow to use his modern electronic equipment so effectively.
We had an uneventful trip back to Quail Creek. When we passed the Shell station I noticed the $3.14 price of their gas. While price at the pump is up, the $70 spot price is about the same as it has been. We arrived back at 3:18. RCL - 8/6/10.

SAN FRANCISCO

2010-08-05T10:03:00.000-07:00

FERRY TO SAN FRANCISCO
Today is Wednesday, July 28, 2010. We are leaving Quail Creek at 9:15 - right on time! - for the Ferry building in Vallejo. From there, we will catch the 10 o’clock boat to San Francisco. Counting Kelli and Tony, there are ten of us aboard our mini-bus. This is the largest group that I have seen in the two years that I have been going on the Quail Creek “Outings”.
We pass the Arco station, and gas is $3.00 a gallon. I don’t know what Shell, nearby, is charging, because Tony used the newly opened Manuel Campus Boulevard cut-off. This saves about 5 minutes (and much less traffic) than our former route. This new road is part of the larger $5 million North Texas/ Highway 80 interchange. The large project has been in progress for over two years. The Futures price for crude oil today is $77.50.
The weather is clear and cool - probably 50 degrees. If I had a “smart phone”, I would know for sure! The traffic, in both directions of I-80, is light. (I was just over this same stretch yesterday, when Anne drove us to Napa for lunch, and then on to Yountville.) It seems like there are more trucks in the westbound weigh station, than I have noticed before. I would think this is a sign that the Recession is easing, but there are other mixed signals that is not the case. We pass the large Sunnyside Dairy. I don’t see many of these anymore.
As we approach Hunters Hill, I can see the high-fog bank overhead. Tony exits on to West bound Tennessee Street in Vallejo. It seems good to be in Vallejo (where we lived for 46 years), and not be en-route to the Kaiser Medical complex. We pass the beauty shop where Marie used to have her hair done and, in another few blocks, the barber shop where John cut my hair for 40 years! Vallejo hasn’t changed much in all that time.
Our Senior all-day pass on the ferry was $13.00. As I remember, when the ferry service started 25 years ago, the round-trip fare - Vallejo-San Francisco was $6.00! We are aboard Bartlinks’ original ferry - the “Vallejo”. This is a much smaller boat than the larger ones that they run during the commute hours. It is also slower - taking ten more minutes to get to the Ferry Building. Consequently, it is packed with vacationers and people like us. We back out of the dock at 10:02.
The Captain sets the throttle at 5 knots as we head south on the Mare Island channel. The slow speed minimizes any wake damage on shore. After 14 minutes of “Idle” throttle, the Captain gooses the twin engines and our speed increases to about 30 knots. I can see Mt. Tamalpais- in Marin County - straight ahead. The water, a few feet away has a grayish color, rather than being blue. Now, Mt. Tam is at 3 o’clock, about 5 miles away. The San Francisco panorama ahead is spectacular. I spot the U.S. Bank building at One California Street straight ahead - behind the ferry Building and the Hyatt Regency Hotel. I always look for the building - named the Mutual Benefit Life building during the 14 years that I worked for California and Hawaiian Sugar Company. My office was on the 19th floor. I don’t see any cruise ships dockside.
We tie up the Ferry Building dock at 11:00 - right on time. About half of the passengers disembark. The others staying on board are headed for Pier 41 - between Pier 39 and Fisherman’s Wharf. According to the encyclopedia Wikipedia, the current structure on the Embarcadero, was designed by Page Brown, and the terminal opened in 1898. The building survived both the large 1906 and 1989 earthquakes. The large clock tower on top of the building is a landmark. The clock and chimes are operational. The 12th century Giralda bell tower in Seville, Spain was the architectural inspiration for the Ferry Building clock tower. The Bay Area Rapid transit (BART) tracks run beneath the building.
We walk the length of the Ferry building, and then returned to Gate B, where we got off. This is near to the Slanted Door where we had a nice lunch. From the restaurant, we had a great panoramic view of the waterfront - Bay Bridge. Yerba Buena Island and Treasure Island. The latter was a man- made island constructed particularly to support the infrastructure for the San Francisco World’s Fair in 1939 and ’40. The ritzy World Trade Center is directly above us. With the great food and view, this is a prestigious place to have lunch - if you are lucky enough to find a member who will invite you! Luckily, we arrived early - before the business cliental arrived. I ordered their chicken noodle soup, and it was delicious. It was listed at only $6! This is not a San Francisco price. I was suspicious, presuming that I would be the “cup” portion. I was pleasantly surprised by the large bowl.
After lunch, we split up. We had a couple of hours before our return boarding, plus everyone had different interests. So, I repeated walking the length of the Ferry Building - passing (would you believe?) food shops! I particularly like to go in the “Sur La Table” at the end of the shops. They have many interesting items - geared primarily to the kitchen. Then, back to the other end. I was in the mood for some ice cream, so got in line at the Ciao Bella Gelato. I had trouble deciding between all the tempting flavors. Finally settled on the Mocha Chip. It was very good - even though the ambient temperature was about 60 degrees. I took my delicacy on a bench outside and enjoyed the view and my ice cream.
I still had an hour and a half before meeting back at the Ferry Dock. So, I walked over to the Hyatt Regency Hotel - a couple of blocks away - across the Justin Herman Plaza. En-route, I walked past the most interesting Vaillancourt Fountain with water flowing out of it’s many openings. Also there was a large tent, where Peter Pan was performing. I ended up in the interesting lobby of the Hyatt Regency Hotel. Marie and I went to a Tea Dance here in the lobby about 30 years ago, not long after it opened I sat in the lobby for 45 minutes fascinated by the five unique inside elevators going up and down.
I returned to the waterfront. I still had a half hour to kill. Eastbound traffic on the lower deck of the Bay Bridge is light. In two more hours I won’t be able to observe this. The tower clock bongs three times. I don’t get to hear this melodius sound very often. So, my time wasn’t wasted, I got another gelato - this time I tried the Dulce de Leche flavor. I prefer the Mocha Chip. At $3.65 for one scoop in a cup, I spent more on gelatos that I did for lunch! It wasn’t a total loss, as it brought back pleasant memories of our visit to Rome in 1985.
About 3:30, and the inbound Vallejo Solano ferry is docking. This a larger and faster twin-hulled boat. What a great invention the side-thrusters are! The Captain can maneuver along side of the dock and then move the boat sidewise for a smooth berthing. We are lined up on the dock waiting for the passengers to get off so that we can board. There are many arriving San Francisco Giants’ fans, dressed in their team colors of orange and black.
They expedite our boarding, and we move out from the dock at 3:34 - three minutes late! A green “China Shipping Lines” freighter moving across our bow, heading for the port of Oakland. Probably loaded with Christmas goodies! I get a good view of the new East span of the Bay Bridge under construction. Today, they are hoisting the huge first section of the unique single tower self -supporting suspension span between the viaducts. The bridge is scheduled to open in 2013 - six years late! - at a cost of 3.6 billion dollars - a cost over-run of 2.5 billion dollars! The Current parallel - structure between Oakland and Yerba Buena Island - will then be dismantled.
It must be a little more windy now, as there are white caps on the Bay. We are passing a tanker unloading oil at the Chevron Refinery in Richmond. A good view of the California & Hawaiian Sugar Refinery beneath the bridge at Crockett. I worked there for seven years before transferring to the C & H corporate office, in San Francisco, in 1949. I can see the Maritime Academy (now part of the California College system) on the other side of the Carquinez Strait. At 4:13 the Captain is slowing the boat down to 5 knots. We are passing the former Sperry Flour Mill on the right. We are passing another Vallejo Ferry heading to San Francisco. We arrive back in Vallejo @ 4:28 - right on time. We arrive back at Quail creek at 5: 10. It is much warmer in Fairfield than it was in San Francisco - about a 20 degree temperature spread in the 40 miles. We have been gone 8 hours. While it was a long day, it was a very nice one.
RCL - 8/5/10.

DICK

2010-07-13T21:20:00.000-07:00

DICK
Today, I lost a friend. While I have known Dick for only a year, I considered him my friend. Dick died this morning in his sleep, a victim of COPD. While I shouldn’t have been surprised with his death, as he was enrolled in the Hospice program. His responses, each time I asked him how he was doing, were indications were also indications that he was “hurting“. I guess it was the suddenness of his passing, that stunned me.
I saw Dick at dinner, here at Quail Creek, last night where he, and four of his male friends had gathered. (Today, I heard that Dick referred to the occasion as “The Last Supper”, or a “The Farewell Dinner.”. Apparently, Dick knew something that none of the rest of us knew! During dinner, he left his table and circled through the dining room in his power chair, greeting his Quail Creek friends at the various tables, as he often did. But, this time, it turned out to be his “Farewell”. Dick stopped at my table, and we greeted each other. Almost from when we met, he has admired my shirts! He would say, “Another beautiful -new shirt!” I used to explain that it wasn’t a “new” shirt - in some cases it was an “old” shirt! Occasionally, it was a new shirt. I would give credit to my daughter, Mary, who had purchased them. Dick would even give me “flyers”, that he had received in the mail, “pitching” shirts. (I needed more shirts like I needed more to eat.) I always checked on him, by asking him how he was doing. His usual response was “Not so hot”. He was on oxygen, along with a lack of appetite.
Occasionally, Dick and I would dine at the same table for four. It was on these occasions that I learned about his interesting background. He grew up in Salt Lake City, While being raised as a Mormon, he was not a practicing one. He met his “wife to be” in Salt Lake City. (She died a short time ago, which prompted Dick to move here to Quail Creek. I am sorry that I never got to meet her.) Besides being friendly, Dick was an good conversationalist. Having been trained, and worked, as a Geologist, he related interesting job experiences he had - traveling all over the world.
Christina, a CNA here at Quail Creek, told me about my “losing a buddy”, shortly after his death. She was in his room when he died. She gave him comfort right through to the end! She told of hearing his heavy breathing, so she played a Duke Ellington recording - Dick’s favorite music. Then, he peacefully went to sleep for the last time. Everyone deserves to have such empathetic and compassionate company when they leave this world. No one should have to die alone.
RCL - 7/10/10.

KAUAI (Fini!)

2010-07-06T18:48:00.000-07:00

KAUAI
I am a very fortunate man! How many fathers get to spend 24/7 with their three daughters in tropical Paradise? Not many.
I have a list of things that I would like to do before I check out from this world. High on my list was to re-visit Kauai where we lived for four and a half years, 50 years ago. Dan Canty, Vice President of Industrial Engineering for C. Brewer (one of Hawaii’s Big Five Factors) hired me to be Olokele Sugar Company’s first Industrial Engineer in 1958.
While Marie and I had been back to Hawaii a couple of times since, I still had that longing to once again visit the spiritual beauty of Hawaii. But, at 91, I was realistic, and didn’t expect to do this. But, when Mary, Joan and Sue suggested that we all go over together, my wish took legs. I didn’t hesitate to accept their offer. We enjoyed anticipating our trip while making our plans, and reminiscing since our return.
Stan, airport service, picked up all of us at Quail Creek on Wednesday morning, June 2. He was 15 minutes early for our 5:30 appointed time. Sue drove her truck over, and Katie will drive Tom over to pick it up. Michelle brought Joan and Mary over. I was sweating out room for all of our luggage, but no problem fitting it in Stan’s van. Heavy commute traffic going in to San Francisco, but it flowed smoothly at freeway speed. Having commuted from Vallejo to San Francisco for 14 years, I can relate to being tired from the wear and tear on the nervous system. Stan asked us if we would like to stop for coffee. We declined.
We arrived at SFO at 6:45. Joan had printed out our boarding passes the day before, so this speeded up our check-in at the United Counter. Also, it gave a $2 discount on the $25 bag charge. No wonder everyone hauls huge bags aboard, rather than check them. Some passengers have to stand on the seat to jam them in the bin and retrieve them. As I observe them hassling with their luggage, I can’t believe that the bags weigh 50 pounds or less!
The usual Security check-in. I couldn’t believe the long line - and this early in the morning. We hadn’t any more got to the end of the line, when Security opened another station. So back to where we had just walked from. Security is pretty routine and organized now, after nine years of tweaking the system. We were cleared in about 30 minutes.
I can remember our first trip to Hawaii over 50 years ago. Back then, everyone wore their “Sunday Best”. Contrast that with today, when people are dressed “down” for travel. This morning I saw grandparents each carrying a boogie board for their two young grandsons!
We started boarding United Flight 41 for a direct flight from San Francisco to Lihue, at 8:30 - 30 minutes prior to departure. What a co-incidence! Our 9:00 scheduled departure today is the same exact time as it was back on January 15, 1958, when we first left the mainland on our move to Hawaii. Our plane is a Boeing 757-200 with a full passenger load of 182 people. It is a single aisle - three seats on each side configuration. Three of us took up a row on the left side, with Mary across the aisle from Joan.
We backed out from Gate 89 at exactly 9:00. Not much wind, and being heavily loaded, it took a 40 second take-off run before we were airborne. Usually, it takes about 30 seconds. No free lunches anymore in “Economy”. United would sell us a sandwich for $9. We planned ahead and picked up one at the airport. The crew had a contest to estimate the time (Hawaii Daylight) when we would reach the mid-point. They gave time of departure, trip mileage, indicated air speed, and wind. I carefully worked it out to be 08:38. The actual time turned out to be 8:44. I can’t explain why I was so far off. I would guess that there was an error in the “givens”, or a change in the headwind. It’s a long ride westbound because we are bucking the high velocity jet stream. Before 9/11, one could walk up and down the aisle and stand in the galley. But because of security they discourage this now. I can’t imagine the fatigue, and pooled blood in the legs of the passengers, on the long-non-stop flights to Australia and Japan. Joan picked up a tuna salad sandwich at SFO, and we shared this for lunch. It was very tasty sandwich. United did give me a glass of water.
We landed in Lihue at 11:14 - 30 minutes early. A lady, representing Hawaiian Holidays, greeted us inside the terminal as we waited to pick up our luggage at the carrousel. She presented each of us with a double- plumeria lei. How nice and fragrant! The girls arranged our leis on the lanai at the Outrigger, and they stayed nice almost as long as we were there.
Kauai is sub-titled the “Garden Island”- and rightly so. It’s floral beauty is spectacular. I felt like I was in a spiritual paradise - far removed from reality. This is the oldest of the main Hawaiian Islands. Kauai has an area of 550 square miles, the fourth largest of the main islands. Lihue (County seat) is about 100 miles northwest of Honolulu. .
When we first arrived in Honolulu on January 15, 1958, the Territory of Hawaii’s economy was ranked as follows in importance:
(1) - Sugar
(2) - Pineapple
(3) - Government
(4) - Tourism.
Today, there is no longer any sugar or pineapple grown on the Island of Kauai. (I heard that marijuana is now the number one cash crop!) Tourism leads the economy, followed by Government. This is why the Hawaiian economy has taken such a beating during the current recession.
Lihue is the County seat, and yet Kapaa at 10,000 population, is twice as large! The 2000 census counted about 58,000 people. This figure was updated to 68,000 in 2008. It will be interesting what the Census Bureau comes up with in the current 2010 census. When we moved to Kauai in 1958, the population on Kauai was estimated to be 18,000 (1,000 Caucasians!) Kauai, and the small island of Niihau, (owned by the Robinson family), were the last Hawaiian Islands to join King Kamehameha’s Kingdom of Hawaii in 1810.
There are thousands of chickens roaming everywhere on the Island. They look like Rhode Island Reds to me. The chicken should be the State Bird, rather than the Nene! The original Polynesian settlers brought them as a food source. Hurricane Iniki didn’t help things, when it destroyed many of their coops. I can’t help but wonder what happens to all of the hens’ eggs? The chickens are not bashful. Wherever people are gathered - be it the beach or park - the chickens are there.
Our accommodations are great. We are on the second of four levels, and have partial ocean views, and look down on the pool area. Our condo building is as high as you can build on Kauai. The County building code limits buildings to a height of a palm tree (about 40 feet.)
It was quite a wait before Joan and Mary picked up our Hertz rental car. They said that the Hertz lady was promoting a lot of “extras”. Our car is a Toyota Camry. We need a full-size car for a trunk that is large enough to hold all of our luggage. Joan and Mary shared all of the driving during the week. They both are not only good drivers - with a sense of direction - but they both own Toyotas - Joan a Camry and Mary a Highlander. The driving arrangement made it much more pleasant for Sue and I.
A short drive from the airport in Lihue up #56, the Kuhio Highway, to Kapaa, and our Outrigger condo at Waipouli Beach. Our unit wasn’t ready when we checked in, and the girls went across the highway and shopped at Safeway. (They were shocked by the high food prices. They reflect the 25-30% cost of shipping the goods). There is also a Long’s Drug store in the complex. While CVS bought the Long’s Drugs mainland stores, the 24 Long’s in the Islands were outside of the mainland purchase. CVS plans to buy the 24 Hawaiian stores shortly. Our large “great room’ is very spacious and “open”. It includes a very nice full kitchen, a dining area, and a large living room. Off each bedroom is a large bathroom with a tub. Off the two bedrooms and the living room, there are nice lanai’s with an ocean view. at Wednesday evening, we ate dinner out at the nearby Bull Shed Restaurant - right on the beach. We had a nice Italian dinner in a very pleasant atmosphere.
Thursday morning, and we are off to Kalaheo and Kaumakani to visit the two houses we used to live in. It won’t be long before each time we start out, we will harmonize “On the Road Again!” Our first stop was at our Kalaheo house where we lived from January 1960 to June 1962. Sue was born while we lived there. I never knew our Kalaheo address because there was no mail delivery to our house. We picked up our mail at a “box” in the post office. As I remember, the small post office was located in the country store on the highway. Today, I notice that the address is 5222 Puwai. I recognized the house, and we pulled up in front.
“There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to see the ways in which you yourself have changed.” - Nelson Mandela.
The resident, Lawrence Vindinha, Sr. came out on his porch checking us out (slow day). We took a few pictures, and then introduced ourselves. We explained why we were browsing around. He said that his son was out back mowing (the sharp -wide leaved- buffalo grass). It wasn’t long before his son appeared. His father introduced him, as “Larry.” During our conversation, Larry said that he would be 60 on his next birthday. The father said that his wife had died a couple of years ago, and Larry was living with him. I was disappointed that they didn’t invite us to see the inside of the house. Lawrence and his wife bought the house from Bill and Frank Duarte. Our house was between the two brothers’ houses. I don’t know of any other owners other than the man and his wife from the mainland that Marie and I sold to.
We bought “5222” in 1960 for $14,000. Marie couldn’t cope with the very red dirt at Kaumakani. She suggested that we move. We found this house in Kalaheo that we both liked. It was about 1000 feet up the hill, mauka from the highway. So, it was cooler than Kaumakani, and of course much wetter. Even though we were only a 20 minute drive apart. I didn’t have a rain gauge back then. But I would guess that we probably got 100 inches of rain a year, compared to the 20 inches at Kaumakani! (We had to irrigate the sugar cane). At Kalaheo, we were only a few miles from Mt. Waialeale - “the wettest spot on earth” - where the rainfall averages 440 inches of rain a year. As I remember, it seemed to rain mostly at night. I would have mold on the soles of my dress shoes! Now, that is “damp”!
While talking to the two Vindinhas, I couldn’t help but notice the light green metal roof on the house. It looked exactly the same as it did in 1962, when I had last seen it. I mentioned that the roof has surely held up well (after nearly 50 years!) Lawrence. Sr. said he told his son Larry, that they should get a new roof. But, he said, “Each time, Larry says that he is waiting for the Permit!”.
We drove back in the “woods”, where no road existed 50 years ago. That’s where the kids played and explored. Now, there are beautiful homes back in there. There used to be just a foot path that went in there. Mary wanted to check out the spot where she, Anne and the Friedlander boys used to look for “ treasures”. I had never heard Mary or Anne, mention this before. Apparently, people would illegally drop off their junk back there. Mary also wanted to explore the “meadow” where horses and cows used to graze. These memories were quite emotional for her, as I am sure they were for Anne, too, the first time she re-visited those areas.
From Kalaheo, we headed for Hanapepe for lunch. I suggested that we eat at Mike’s Café. Marie and I, and the family, used to go there quite often. Mike’s Chinese food. was always fresh and, along with their tasty rice, was very good. Too, we liked Florence who served us. She was very good with serving the girls, plus she baked Mike’s delicious lilikoi pies. Occasionally, we would meet friends there for lunch or dinner. A memorable occasion was the day we had a Reception there following Sue’s Baptism at Holy Cross Church in Kalaheo, during December of 1961. Much to my disappointment, Mike’s restaurant was no longer in business Today, it is still a Chinese Restaurant (Wong‘s). I asked people who were having lunch (apparently, they were the owners, or their employees,) about Mike’s Café . She told me that it was closed after hurricane Iniki hit in 1992. But, I did get a slice of their lilikoi pie “to go.”
So, I suggested that we try the Green Garden across the road, where we used to also go, many years ago. We were greeted by a sign, “Open only on weekends”. So, we ended up eating at the Hanapepe Café and Bakery, nearby. It was very good.
After lunch, we headed for Kaumakani, as we wanted to check out where we lived on the Olokele Sugar Company plantation. The managerial housing complex on the Main, and adjacent street, are very run down. Olokele Sugar closed operations, and Robinson bought the property, in 1994. Robinson is renting many of the houses. While the girls were taking pictures of our former home, John Meideros, who lives in it now, pulled up in his pick-up. The girls had quite a long conversation with John. He was very animated and interesting, and didn’t seem in any hurry to leave.
Friday, June 4. It turned out to be a long day today. It was a good thing that we did some pre-planning, and stuck pretty close to our plan. Otherwise, we would not have been able to accomplish as much as we did. We pulled out of the parking lot of the Outrigger at 0930 this morning - . right on time!
It was about an hour’s ride up to the northern part of Kauai. Mary wondered where we used to go, and slide down the falls, into a pool of water. I told her it was the Kilauea Falls - near the Kilauea Point Lighthouse. We didn’t drive back to the falls (we were on a schedule!).
When we returned to the Outrigger, I asked the concierge about the Kilauea Falls. He said that there had been a fatality there a few years ago, so they closed the falls to the public.
We passed the very pretty Princeville Resort, which includes 36 holes of golf. Princeville always reminds me of when I ran into a tourist on the Hanalei pier. We were spending a week at the beach house, that the plantation rented for the summer. I was standing on the pier watching the fishermen maneuvering their boat and nets. A fellow came up and started talking to me. He said that they were staying at the Princeville Resort, on the ridge overlooking Hanalei Bay, high above. I was impressed, because 50 years ago, it was fairly new. I knew that it was a posh place, because the room rates started at $100 a night. (I wonder what they are today?). He
asked me where I was from. I told him, “Kauai”. He said, “You mean that you live here all the time?” He seemed envious.
Back to the highway, we were approaching the guava turn before heading down into the Hanalei Valley. This is one of my favorite spots. I looked down on beautiful-sandy Lumahai Beach (where they filmed parts of “South Pacific”.) Around the curve, I am looking down and seeing the many taro fields. (They make poi from the taro roots). After descending, we cross the one-way concrete bridge over the Hanalei River. The bridge must be a 100 years old. The State/County wanted to replace it with a modern two-way bridge, but the locals put up such a squawk, that they gave up on the idea. So, it’s still whichever car shows up first - going in either direction - has the right-of way.
I notice a lot of convertibles driving through Hanalei. They are fortunate that it is a nice day, and they can have the tops down. I notice one bald-white haired driver, and his female companion, in one of them. Good for him! I assume that they are all rental cars. Like the Napa Valley, they are popular rentals.
We drive through Hanalei, still on #560, heading for Haena - at the end of the road. We cross many small bridges on the winding scenic road. We arrive at the parking lot at the Haena State Park, and it is full! It is only 11:00 o’clock on a Friday morning, and the place is full! I couldn’t believe it! The last time that Marie and I were there (about 30 years ago) were the only ones on the beach, and the only car in the parking lot!
Outside of Lumahai Beach (that I have mentioned), this beach is the most scenic of any that I have seen. To the left, I can look at the bluff on the Napali Coast. To the right is the sandy beach. The girls unload their snorkeling gear, and Joan has a long walk back from a remote parking spot. I am the sentry, guarding their clothes and purses, while they explore the colorful fish inhabiting the reef, with their snorkels..
Next we had a nice lunch at the Calypso. We had a cool seat on the porch from where we had a good view of all the tourists passing through.
Olokele used to rent a beach house, on the beach at Hanalei, during the summer months. It was really nice. The Pacific Ocean was only a few yards away in the front yard. The plantation would let us take turns, using the house, to spend part of our vacations. I wanted to check the vacation house out while we were there. So we drove around for quite a while searching for the house. (It never used to be hard to find). After a fruitless search for a half hour, I talked them into giving up. The problem was that I couldn’t recall any landmark back then. In addition, there was a lot of building that had taken place in the last 50 years. (After getting back, I checked with our daughter Anne about the house. Anne has spent quite a bit of time on Kauai in recent years, so she was a good source. She told me that Hurricane Iniki leveled the house in 1992 I didn’t think of that, I just presumed that it had been torn down.)
Then, I suggested that we drive along Hanalei Bay beach front, so that we could see the Hanalei Pier and the former Wilcox mansion near the Hanalei Pavilion Beach Park. We saw a large mansion on the green, but it wasn’t familiar to me. I suspect that Iniki got the old mansion too, and what we were seeing was a reconstruction of it. We retraced our route back to Kapaa.
We had a little down time to rest and get ready to head out once again for Poipu. We had reservations at the Beach House Restaurant for dinner. Anne recommended that we eat there so we could also see a great Poipu sunset. She also suggested that we have a mai tai on the huge outside veranda, at the Hyatt, on Shipwreck Beach. While our reservation at the restaurant was for 6:30. We left Kapaa at 4:30 for Poipu, to allow plenty of time to savor the beach and our mai tai’s. We were fortunate to get a reservation, as Mary didn’t call until after we arrived on Wednesday. Dumb luck, they had just received a cancellation, and they squeezed us in. As we were pulling out of our Resort parking lot, we all started singing “On the Road Again”. I wish that I had taken my Willie Nelson CD of the song to play in the car.
The mai tais were great, the dinner was great, and the sunset was great. One couldn’t ask for more than that. While I was tired at the end of our perfect day, as my Mother used to say, “It is a good tired”.
Today, is Saturday. We are heading back to Poipu this morning, for snorkeling and visiting Spouting Horn and Koloa. I hadn’t visited Spouting Horn since we left Kauai in 1962. Back then, we parked at the side of the road and watched the “spouting“. Today, there is a parking lot, and many vendors’ canopy’s - selling everything from jewelry to T-shirts. I wonder where some of the shell necklaces and earrings come from? For there is a State law of “what you find in Hawaii, stays in Hawaii”. There were more people browsing among the shops than there were people watching the spouting! I was disappointed with the height of the “spouting” - perhaps it was low tide. Then, again, maybe my memory was influenced by seeing “Old Faithful” last year. Some of the viewers saw some sea turtles swimming around the lava rock. Try as I did, I couldn’t spot them.
The girls had a nice swim/snorkel at Brennecke’s Beach. This is right next to the pavilion/cove where we used to “splash.” I remember one Christmas when we were all wading in the cove, and the water and air temperatures were the same - 71 degrees! An added attraction were a couple of Monk Seal visitors lounging peacefully on the beach. They are a critically endangered. (there are fewer Hawaiian -monk seals in the wild than there are giant pandas!). The monk seal species turned up 13-15 million years ago before Hawaii was! The life guards tried to give them some privacy by cordoning them off with yellow tape.
Next, we drove a few miles to Koloa. This village is known for McBride Sugar Mill which was the first sugar plantation in Hawaii (1835). Today, a portion of the old mill is now a museum, as the plantation has been closed, along with the other plantations on Kauai. I don’t think there are any plantations still operating in Hawaii. Pineapple has had the same fate, There were 26 sugar plantations operating back in 1958, of which C. Brewer owned half. The annual production of raw sugar in the Islands (97 % pure - C& H Sugar removed the other 3% of molasses and impurities.) was a million tons a year! It became infeasible to continue operating the two agricultural industries. Pineapple and Sugar could be produced cheaper by others in the world. It is sad to drive by the fallow lands that I remember full of green-living plants. Some of the land was converted to macadamia nut and coffee trees. (We drove by the Kauai Coffee plantation every time we were near Lihue.) A lot of the acreage was used for building houses, shopping centers and hotels.
I made the mistake of mentioning the small -warm -coconut pies that we used to buy at the Chinese grocery in Koloa. They were delicious and wanted to experience that wonderful taste again. We got all these bum steers on where we might find the pies. We made many stops trying to track them down. I don’t think there is anyone alive who remembers the individual pies. I think those giving us directions, were confusing them with cocoanut- cream pies. After we returned to Fairfield, I asked Anne (who has a very good memory) if she remembered them. She said, “Of course. Mother used to cut them in half and we shared.” I think the problem was probably because Anne called them “turnovers” (their correct name), rather than pies. Too, how many people are still in the area fifty years later?
It is Sunday and time is zipping by. Today we are heading for Waimea Canyon, Kokee and the Kalahau Lookout. First we will stop at Holy Cross Church in Kalaheo - our last parish when we lived in the Islands. Mary called the church and found that Mass was at 0945. So, we planned to attend on the way to Waimea Canyon. I am glad that we did. Even though it was a new church building, it was in the same location. The school that Anne and Mary attended for a couple of years, is still there. I assume that Iniki destroyed the church building that I was familiar with.
When we went there 50 years ago, the women sat on one side of the church, and the men (who weren’t outside “talking stories”) sat on the other side - a strange custom! Now, the modern church is “in the round”, with mixed seating, after Vatican II. A friendly lady put a shell lei around our necks as we entered. What a nice welcome! After Mass, the young priest invited all travelers to come up and stand in front of the altar for his “safe return” Blessing” - Hawaiian friendliness in action!
Afterwards we were on our way to Hanapepe for breakfast at the “Green Garden” restaurant. One family used to eat there occasionally, even though we preferred Mike’s Café nearby. Today, it is just “Open” on weekends, as the owner-operator works in Lihue during the week. We also, bought a few of their papayas. I had a piece for breakfast every morning and they were as delicious - just as I remembered them. (The girls also bought some local Kapaa bananas at Safeway, and they were very sweet and delicious.)
We left the Kaumualli Highway (#50) and turned on to Kokee Road (#552), and started up the grade to Waimea State Park. Had we continued on the highway, we would have ended up in a few miles at Barking Sands, home of the Pacific Missile Range Facility. I read in the Garden Island paper where they are still talking about continuing this road around the northern end of the island to Highway 560 at Haena. Then, you would be able to drive completely around the Island! They were talking about this 50 years ago. It will never happen - unless they can get a lot of money from a future TARP fund. I would hate to have the responsibility to make a cost estimate. It is very hard to just fathom the idea. How would you justify it - by making it more convenient for a few tourists to navigate the Island?
The girls got out and viewed the splendorous Waimea Canyon. They didn’t see any of the white- mountain sheep. Then, we continued on to Kokee State Park. This is a huge green meadow. We used to enjoy a picnic here with Barbara and Don Brandt, who now live in Hilo, on the Big Island.
Next, on to the Kalalau Lookout. What a bum road. Had to drive slowly in low gear and then couldn’t dodge all the pot holes. If Hertz knew that we were mistreating their vehicle (and ourselves) in such a manner, there would have been a sur-charge. While I had been to the “Lookout” a few times, I only remember it being clear once or twice. (That’s why the helicopters do such a good business!) But, the view of the Napali Coast and the Pacific Ocean is tremendous when clear - well worth the extra effort of getting there. Today, it was socked in as per usual - a big disappointment! But, an off-set - the bougainvillea in the area are tremendous! An uneventful ride down the mountain and back up the south-west coast to Kapaa.
Today, must be Monday! The “wash” is drying on the clothes lines in the back yards. The multi-colored garments are waving in the breeze - like Hawaiian flags. We got started at our magic time - 0930. The car thermometer says 77 degrees. (You can’t beat this!) The odometer says that we have covered 337 miles. Gas at the 76 station is posted at $3.58.
We drove to the Wailua Falls, part of Wailua River Park. We turned to the right off #56, between Kapaa and Lihue, and drove about five miles on Maalo Road, back to the Falls area. Naturally, the large Waimea River feeds these Falls. I never realized that the Falls were so close to the popular Fern Grotto. I was surprised to read that Kauai is the only island in the Hawaiian chain, to have navigable rivers. While driving back to the Falls, we came upon a large pasture area with many horses, colts and mules. This must be the foaling season as there were quite a few little ones tagging along behind their Mothers. I didn’t think that Joan would pass this up. Sure enough, she pulled off to the left side of the road and parked near the fence. I don’t think that we were the first ones to stop there. The animals were grazing when we first saw them. But, after they spotted us by the fence, they all sauntered over to be hand fed!
I was surprised to find vendors parked at the Falls. Not only were they parked, there, but they took up the first four prime -parking spots! The first guy was working from the back of his pick-up making small baskets from cocoanut palm reeds. He was quite skilled. Mary and Joan bought one of his (green) baskets. The guy parked next to him was selling shell and bead jewelry (which he supposedly made), from the back of his pick-up. While the girls looked at his wares, I don’t think they were comfortable with the authenticity, quality or prices. The next two parking spots were occupied by women and their cars. I don’t remember what they were peddling. We had a good view of the twin falls - about our level, and not too far away. Quite a way down to the bottom, I could see some people playing in the pool of water from the falls.
After seeing the Falls. We headed for Rice Street in Lihue, for our Saimin “fix”. I used to go to a little café in Hanapepe for saimin when we lived here. But, when we had lunch at the bakery there the other day, I didn’t see it. Funny, how things change in 50 years! We enjoyed our different lunch. While the café’ was small, it was full. When people would leave, it wasn’t long before they were replaced by newcomers. We sat at the counter - on small stools which weren’t bolted to the floor. While they weren’t too safe, they were practical, and were part of the interesting atmosphere. Three middle-aged ladies staffed the facility - one cooking and dishing up in the small kitchen - and the other two serving as fast as she prepared the noodle combinations. So, between all of us, we kept them busy. The overhead fans didn’t quite provide enough cool air.
We were in the area of the Nawiliwili port, so we drove around the harbor area. We wanted to see where our car and furniture was loaded on to the Matson freighter, when we returned to the Mainland - and Vallejo - in 1962. Our furnishings left from here because the Port is the closest to Kalaheo. When our things were in-bound from Antioch in 1958, they arrived and were off-loaded at Port Allen, which is closer to Kaumakani.
It was only about a half hour drive to Poipu. We wanted to see Spouting Horn, and the girls wanted to snorkel at Brennecke’s Beach. This was alongside the cove where we used to go. We stopped first at the Spouting Horn parking lot. The last time that I was here was about 50 years ago. At that time, we just parked along the side of the road to watch the “spouting”. There was a lot of exposed lava rock and we had the place to ourselves. There was higher spouting back then.
Today, besides the large parking area, there are a string of tented shops leading down to the spouting area. The vendors are selling everything from jewelry to sweat shirts. I wonder where some of the shell necklaces and earrings come from. For, there is a state policy of “what you find in Hawaii, stays in Hawaii.” The car thermometer, in Poipu, says 86 degrees.
We stopped a couple of times to pick up real estate flyers touting beach-front rentals or “For Sales”. I sat in a covered picnic area “guarding” purses and clothes while the girls snorkeled.
We had a nice lunch at a cozy restaurant in nearby Koloa. We walked through a few shops, before heading on another “wild goose chase” looking for my “cocoanut pies”, but to no avail.
Back to Kapaa and the Outrigger. The girls went down to the pool and the beach, while I read the Garden Island and the Honolulu Advertiser. About this time, the Honolulu Star Bulletin (the afternoon paper) bought the Advertiser. Their merger resulted in a loss of 300 newspaper jobs!
Monday night, the girls went out for an Italian dinner next door to Bobby V’s Italian restaurant Pizzeria. I was content to stay behind and dined on the remainder of my saimin lunch, and a piece of cocoanut crème pie. I looked forward to breakfast every morning on the lanai, watching the workers below, sprucing up the grounds. How about my menu: papaya, guava juice and cold cereal topped with a very sweet and juicy banana from a local Kapaa tree? What a way to go!
During the week, we passed the former Cocoanut Palms complex on the Wailua River many times. It was ruined by Iniki in 1992. Apparently, the owners didn’t have any insurance, or resources to repair/rebuild it. It sits on such prime property, and is an eyesore. It is extra depressing for me because Marie and I used to go there quite often, for dinner, the lighting of the torches, and entertainment. Now, each time that we pass by, I am overwhelmed by sadness recalling my great memories of 50 years ago.
The girls went next door each morning to Marie’s bakery for their coffee. During their visits their conversation got around to me and Olokele. Marie told them that Ruth Cassel still lived on a farm in Waimea. She said we would remember each other. When they told me, I certainly remembered Ruth! How could I forget? I remembered her for her beauty and friendliness. Even though she was a haole’, she had that Hawaiian friendliness and graciousness. The Cassels had five kids as we did - four boys and a girl. I worked with her husband, Jim, on the plantation. He was Olokele’s Agriculturist. Both of them were from Iowa, having arrived a few months before we did. They were both musicians - Ruth played the piano, and gave lessons to the plantation kids. Jim played the trombone.
Tuesday turned out to be a very interesting - but a long day!
Early in the morning, Mary called Ruth to see if we could get together later on. Ruth said that she had organ practice in the morning. So she invited us to her house in Waimea that afternoon, for cold drinks
and pu-pu’s. We settled for 4:30.
We left Kapaa about 10, heading for the Kauai Museum in Lihue. I was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the museum. The entry fee was $10 ($8 for me, a Senior, and Kamaaina’s), but the experience was well worth the price of admission. Too, the ticket is valid for several days as there is too much to see during a single visit - especially, if you also visit their very nice gift shop It is strange. The Museum was established in 1960, but I had never been there. The Museum building was dedicated to Albert Spencer Wilcox.
We would have liked to take the guided tour, but no docent. She said that no one was there at 10, so he went home! I enjoyed their great sea shell and wooden bowl collections on the main floor. The building is not ADA friendly, having no elevators. I did climb many stairs to get to the second level, as I wanted to see the sugar plantation exhibit. I found that Olokele Sugar Company was started in 1941, and it was in business for 53 years - until Gay & Robinson bought them in 1994. The exhibit mentioned that the plantation built a 200 home complex at nearby Kaumakani to house the hourly-paid workers. The salaried employees were housed in nice houses on the main street, and the street behind. I would have liked to have seen the Textile festival exhibit of Hawaiian quilts, but that meant walking up more stairs, so I passed.
Back to our condo for some respite and a quick turn around to visit Ruth in Wamea. Afterwards, Mary had made reservations at the very nice Gaylord restaurant - between Lihue and the Kauai Community College,
“On the Road Again”. This time to Waimea to visit Ruth Cassel. It took us a little over an hour for the drive from Kapaa to Waimea. There was quite a bit of traffic, and we allowed only an hour. The narrow -bumpy road (with numerous barking dogs along the way, was as Ruth described it to Mary. Ruth was a very pleasant and gracious hostess. It felt good to see her once again. She offered our choice of beaucoup drinks. She also had prepared some delicious cheese and cracker snacks. Ruth gave us a tour of her charming home, and explained many photos of her picture collection.
Joan had purchased a booklet at the Museum - “NA PUA O KOKEE” - a Field guide to the Native Flowering Plants of Northwestern Kauai”. The author was Katie Cassel. Joan asked Ruth if Katie was any relation. Ruth said that she was her daughter-in-law. Then, Ruth brought out a copies of Katie’s book and gave one to each of us. It wasn’t much longer, when a car pulled up and a young lady climbed the stairs. It was Katie! What a small world. She signed each of our copies of her book.
Then Ruth gave us a walking tour of her farm - about 4 acres overall. She pointed out banana, lilikoi, mango, papaya and monkey pod trees. I asked her about the Waimea hospital (where Joan and Sue were born), and Ruth said that it hadn’t been torn down and was still there. So, we stopped by and took pictures on our way back.
The time for our dinner reservation at Gaylords kept creeping up. Mary called the restaurant twice to reserve a later time. Fortunately they weren’t to busy so they accommodated us. We finally arrived at the restaurant about 8:30 for our original 6:30 reservation. Gaylords is located within the Kilohana Estate, on the outskirts of Lihue. The mansion was established in 1935, but I don’t recall seeing it when we lived here. It was the home of Ethel and Gaylord Wilcox - an old Island family.
We were the only patrons still in the restaurant - except for a wedding party in the private dining room. The girls sensed some hostility in the waiter - probably because he was held over to serve us. (I didn’t sense this attitude.). At the Gaylord menu prices, It was worth their wait for us. While tiring, it was a very memorable day!
This morning (Wednesday, June 9, 2010) is “get-away” day - we return to San Francisco. Our direct (we hope so!) United Flight #62 is scheduled to depart from Lihue at 1:15P. What amazes me is how the four of us were dedicated to being “on time”. None of us wanted to be accused of lagging. Before we checked out from The Outrigger, Joan went on line and printed our boarding passes, and prepaid the $23 for checking each of our bags. Only Mary, whose bag was bumping the 50 pound maximum, got her money’s worth. But, we shouldn’t comment because Mary very nicely volunteered to include some of our stuff in her large suitcase.
Joan left us, and our luggage, off - right in front - near the Baggage Agricultural Inspection Station, and returned our rental car to Hertz. We had a couple of hours wait before departure. But, I’d rather sit at the airport and have a leisurely check-in, than sit back at the hotel and then scramble to make it on time.
Our equipment was a Boeing 757 twin engine plane - the same type United used when we flew over. The same crew had been aboard this same plane, inbound from San Francisco, earlier this noon. The quick turn-around makes economical sense. I can remember back when a passenger plane needed four engines in order to be certified for over-water flights. Today, with these huge powerful jet engines, two exceed the power of four. The Boeing 757 can still fly using a single engine!
It is hard to believe how large the Lihue airport is today. Fifty years ago, when I was flying inter-island on business, the terminal was just a small building - housing the Hawaiian and the Aloha Airlines ticket offices, and a small café`. The turbo-prop operations were small - the ground crew would roll out stairs to the plane, to load and unload passengers. I remember once when I forgot my ticket to Honolulu. When boarding, I explained it to the Flight attendant. She said, “That’s O.K. Just mail it in after you return!” How about that for the Aloha Spirit?
We were number one for take-off. Wheels were retracted at 1:19P after a 25 second take-off run. An uneventful flight, flying at 34,000 feet. We were scheduled to get in at 2125, but the Captain said that we would be arriving about 30 minutes early. He hadn’t any more than said this, when we started a flat 360 degree turn to the right. We flew this pattern for about a half hour. The only redeeming feature was almost a continuous view of the beautiful sunset! The Captain said that the airport was socked in, and we were “holding” waiting for the fog to lift. Shortly, afterwards he came back on the PA and said that we were running low on fuel, and Approach Control was diverting us to an alternate airport - (San Jose). In all my piloting during WWII, and during the Korean War, I was diverted from landing at Mather Field twice - because the weather was below landing minimums - for overnight stays at Travis and Merced. The pilot started his letdown at 8:30P.
Instead of a straight - in approach to San Jose, we zigzagged over the water to take our turn in the trail of planes on their final approach. Instead of landing at SFO 30 minutes early, we landed in San Jose an hour and a half late. We spent 15 minutes taxiing to a remote cargo area to be re-fueled. When refueling was completed, the Captain told us that we would head to a Gate, and those that wanted to disembark in San Jose, were welcome to do so. Then, we would be off to SFO. The next thing they said was that we would NOT be heading to a Gate, but would be heading directly for SFO. I thought it was strange that they would re-fuel the aircraft with all of us aboard. It doesn’t seem like a very safe practice. I wonder if they actually did refuel? We left the cargo area at 10:40P
Mary called Stan, our air porter service, from San Jose, and told him not to wait for us. Stan thanked her. He said he had a 5:30 pick-up for the next morning. We took off for SFO. I thought that the pilot would just leave the wheels and flaps down for the short run up Highway 101. The pilot had just re-tracked them, when the Flight Attendant said, “Prepare for landing! . It was a routine departure. But, it seemed that we were flying just above the stalling speed, to jockey for position on the final approach. An uneventful landing in San Francisco about 11:30 - two and a half hours late! If this were a Southwest flight, the passengers would have clapped!
We collected our luggage at the carousel, and found some chairs to decide on Plan B. Mary called Jason and asked him if he would pick us up. He did his Boy scout good Turn and agreed. Joan and Sue went up to the upper level, to Subway and got sandwiches for us. Jason arrived at about 1:15, and I arrived back at Quail Creek at 2:30.
Things that I miss most about Kauai:
- Seeing the beautiful hibiscus bushes at the Outrigger - the first thing in the morning, and the last thing at night.
- Looking at the ocean from our lanai during my breakfast.
- Experiencing the natural beauty of Kauai all around me.
-Feeling the warm -trade winds on my face.
-Encountering the friendly local people.
-The slower pace of Hawaiian life.
“Every now and then go away, have a little relaxation; for when you come back to your work, your judgment will be surer. To remain constantly at work will cause you to lose power of judgment. When you go some distance away, then your work appears smaller, and more of it can be taken in at a glance, so a lack of harmony, or proportion is more readily seen.”
- Leonardo da Vinci ( from the booklet. “The Tao of Dad”, by Tracy Gold.)
Ray L’Amoreaux
July 3, 2010.

HAWAIIAN MONK SEALS

2010-07-03T21:15:00.000-07:00

MONK SEAL
My three daughters and I recently spent a week on Kauai. During the week, they wanted to snorkel at Brennecke’s Beach at Poipu. They pointed out two Monk Seals nearby sunning themselves on the beach. I noticed that the life guards respected their privacy by setting up a perimeter of four poles around them. At the top of the poles they fastened the yellow -crime scene- ribbon. I wondered why they had to do this. Common sense would dictate to leave them alone. But, there are nuts out there who lack common sense, and respect for nature, and harm them - even though they are protected as critically endangered.
I have always liked seals, but I can’t explain why. Probably because they are so docile and graceful. My daughter picked up a tourist publication. “101 Things to Do- Kauai” at the Outrigger Resort where we were staying, It is an excellent publication, with suggestions of things to do and see. On page 30, there is an excellent article on “The Monk Seal Guardians.” I think that you will enjoy reading it, so have copied it here. After reading this, you will never see a seal the same again!
“Monk Seal Guardians.”
“Hawaiian monk seals found the Hawaiian Islands well before human contact. They showed up 13 to 15 million years ago, well before the Big Island exploded from the sea, or ancient Hawaiians came to settle the land. Now, critically endangered, there are fewer Hawaiian monk seals in the wild than there are giant pandas! But, while pandas are celebrities, Monk seals can’t get off the B-List!
An Elephant monk seal, with a talent for grabbing headlines has done a lot to focus public attention on the plight of these ancient, seven foot, 400-600 pound marine mammals.
KP2 was born on a Kauai beach in May 2008. His mother categorically rejected him. Had he not been spotted by a passerby and turned over to NOAA’s Marine Mammal Response team, he would have died. The tiny pup was transported to Oahu and raised by the marine mammal team. When he was old enough to fend for himself, he was released into waters off Molokai.
Now, thoroughly acclimated to human contact, KP2 wasn’t interested in the solitary life preferred by most monk seals. So, he set off in search of human contact.. He found it at Kaunakakai Wharf on Molokai’s southern shore where there were plenty of humans to play with.
Soon, the seal had attracted an enthusiastic fan club, and the press had discovered a “Rock” star with whiskers and fins, abandoned by his mother and belonging to a tribe that is nearly extinct. The Wall Street Journal called KP2 a “people person”, and marine researchers started to worry as he grew and acted like a 600 pound seal, he may unintentionally harm his new friends.
So, NOAA intervened and returned KP2 to the wild. That didn’t work. The undaunted seal simply swam back to Kaunakakai Wharf. That didn’t work either. NOAA finally took him back to Oahu where he was placed in captivity.
All the while, the press followed the monk seal’s escapades, his celebrity growing with each headline. Eventually, it was determined that KP2 had cataracts and had to be moved to California for surgery. His Molokai friends, who had loudly protested his removal from the island, came to Oahu to say a sad Aloha!
Today, the endangered Hawaiian monk seal population has it’s poster child - and none too soon.
Over the pat 50 years, the Hawaiian monk seal population has fallen more than 60 percent to a level just over a 1,000 animals! About 90 percent of them are located in the uninhabited Northwest Hawaiian Islands. The remainder resides in the main islands.
A small monk seal colony has been established on Kauai and Niihau. Numbering some 30 to 40 seals, it is the largest population in the main islands. The seals are monitored by volunteers from the Kauai Monk Seal Watch Program. So, when you come across shoreline cordoned off by yellow tape barriers, you’ll know a seal has hauled up and volunteers are at work.
Seals usually land on the beach to rest, or to care for their young. It’s not unusual to see a pup, but keep your distance. Never pass between a seal and the shoreline. When mama seals feel threatened, on the shore or in the water, they have been known to attack. A Maha’ulepu Beach mama did just that late last year.
In another incident, the community was outraged, when two seals, one pregnant, were murdered. One shooter has been prosecuted. A significant reward has been raised for information leading to the arrest of the other.”

RCL - 7/3/10.

KAUAI )cont.)

2010-07-02T14:21:00.000-07:00

restaurant was for 6:30. We left Kapaa at 4:30 for Poipu, to allow plenty of time to savor the beach and our mai tai’s. We were fortunate to get a reservation, as Mary didn’t call until after we arrived on Wednesday. Dumb luck, they had just received a cancellation, and they squeezed us in. As we were pulling out of our Resort parking lot, we all started singing “On the Road Again”. I wish that I had taken my Willie Nelson CD of the song to play in the car.
The mai tais were great, the dinner was great, and the sunset was great. One couldn’t ask for more than that. While I was tired at the end of our perfect day, as my Mother used to say, “It is a good tired”.
Today, is Saturday. We are heading back to Poipu this morning, for snorkeling and visiting Spouting Horn and Koloa. I hadn’t visited Spouting Horn since we left Kauai in 1962. Back then, we parked at the side of the road and watched the “spouting“. Today, there is a parking lot, and many vendors’ canopy’s - selling everything from jewelry to T-shirts. I wonder where some of the shell necklaces and earrings come from? For there is a State law of “what you find in Hawaii, stays in Hawaii”. There were more people browsing among the shops than there were people watching the spouting! I was disappointed with the height of the “spouting” - perhaps it was low tide. Then, again, maybe my memory
Then, again, maybe my memory was influenced by seeing “Old Faithful” last year.
The girls had a nice swim/snorkel at Brennecke’s Beach. This is right next to the pavilion/cove where we used to “splash.” I remember one Christmas when we were all wading in the cove, and the water and air temperatures were the same - 71 degrees!
Next, we drove a few miles to Koloa. This village is known for McBride Sugar Mill which was the first sugar plantation in Hawaii (1835). Today, a portion of the old mill is now a museum, as the plantation has been closed, along with the other plantations on Kauai. I don’t think there are any plantations still operating in Hawaii. Pineapple has had the same fate, There were 26 sugar plantations operating back in 1958, of which C. Brewer owned half. The annual production of raw sugar in the Islands (97 % pure - C& H Sugar removed
C& H Sugar removed the other 3% of molasses and impurities.) was a million tons a year!. It became infeasible to continue operating the two agricultural industries. Pineapple and Sugar could be produced cheaper by others in the world. It is sad to drive by the fallow lands that I remember full of green-living plants. Some of the land was converted to macadamia nut and coffee trees. (We drove by the Kauai Coffee plantation every time we were near Lihue.) A lot of the acreage was used for building houses, shopping centers and hotels.
I made the mistake of mentioning the small -warm -cocoanut pies that we used to buy at the Chinese grocery in Koloa. They were delicious and wanted to experience that wonderful taste again. We got all these bum steers on where we might find the pies. We made many stops trying to track them down. I don’t think there is anyone alive who remembers the individual pies. I think those giving us directions, were confusing them with cocoanut- cream pies. After we returned to Fairfield, I asked Anne (who has a very good memory) if she remembered them. She said, “Of course. Mother used to cut them in half and we shared.” I think the problem was probably because Anne called them “turnovers” (their correct name), rather than pies. Too, how many people are still in the area fifty years later?
It is Sunday and time is zipping by. Today we are heading for Waimea Canyon, Kokee and the Kalahau Lookout. First we will stop at Holy Cross Church in Kalaheo - our last parish when we lived in the Islands. Mary called the church and found that Mass was at 0945. So, we planned to attend on the way to Waimea Canyon. I am glad that we did. Even though it was a new church building, it was in the same location. The school that Anne and Mary attended for a couple of years, is still there. I assume that Iniki destroyed the church building that I was familiar with.
When we went there 50 years ago, the women sat on one side of the church, and the men (who weren’t outside “talking stories”) sat on the other side - a strange custom! Now, the modern church is “in the round”, with mixed seating, after Vatican II. A friendly lady put a shell lei around our necks as we entered. What a nice welcome! After Mass, the young priest invited all travelers to come up and stand in front of the altar for his “safe return” Blessing” - Hawaiian friendliness in action!
Afterwards we were on our way to Hanapepe for breakfast at the “Green Garden” restaurant. One family used to eat there occasionally, even though we preferred Mike’s Café nearby. Today, it is just “Open” on weekends, as the owner-operator works in Lihue during the week. We also, bought a few of their papayas. I had a piece for breakfast every morning and they were as delicious - just as I remembered them. (The girls also bought some local Kapaa bananas at Safeway, and they were very sweet and delicious.)
We left the Kaumualli Highway (#50) and turned on to Kokee Road (#552), and started up the grade to Waimea State Park. Had we continued on the highway, we would have ended up in a few miles at Barking Sands, home of the Pacific Missile Range Facility. I read in the Garden Island paper where they are still talking about continuing this road around the northern end of the island to Highway 560 at Haena. Then, you would be able to drive completely around the Island! They were talking about this 50 years ago. It will never happen - unless they can get a lot of money from a future TARP fund. I would hate to have the responsibility to make a cost estimate. It is very hard to just fathom the idea. How would you justify it - by making it more convenient for a few tourists to navigate the Island?
The girls got out and viewed the splendorous Waimea Canyon. They didn’t see any of the white- mountain sheep. Then, we continued on to Kokee State Park. This is a huge green meadow. We used to enjoy a picnic here with Barbara and Don Brandt, who now live in Hilo, on the Big Island.
Next, on to the Kalalau Lookout. What a bum road. Had to drive slowly in low gear and then couldn’t dodge all the pot holes. If Hertz knew that we were mistreating their vehicle (and ourselves) in such a manner, there would have been a sur-charge. While I had been to the “Lookout” a few times, I only remember it being clear once or twice. (That’s why the helicopters do such a good business!) But, the view of the Napali Coast and the Pacific Ocean is tremendous when clear - well worth the extra effort of getting there. Today, it was socked in as per usual - a big disappointment! But, an off-set - the bougainvillea in the area are tremendous! An uneventful ride down the mountain and back up the south-west coast to Kapaa.
Today, must be Monday! The “wash” is drying on the clothes lines in the back yards. The multi-colored garments are waving in the breeze - like Hawaiian flags. We got started at our magic time - 0930. The car thermometer says 77 degrees. (You can’t beat this!) The odometer says that we have covered 337 miles. Gas at the 76 station is posted at $3.58.
We drove to the Wailua Falls, part of Wailua River Park. We turned to the right off #56, between Kapaa and Lihue, and drove about five miles on Maalo Road, back to the Falls area. Naturally, the large Waimea River feeds these Falls. I never realized that the Falls were so close to the popular Fern Grotto. I was surprised to read that Kauai is the only island in the Hawaiian chain, to have navigable rivers. While driving back to the Falls, we came upon a large pasture area with many horses, colts and mules. This must be the foaling season as there were quite a few little ones tagging along behind their Mothers. I didn’t think that Joan would pass this up. Sure enough, she pulled off to the left side of the road and parked near the fence. I don’t think that we were the first ones to stop there. The animals were grazing when we first saw them. But, after they spotted us by the fence, they all sauntered over to be hand fed!
I was surprised to find vendors parked at the Falls. Not only were they parked, there, but they took up the first four prime -parking spots! The first guy was working from the back of his pick-up making small baskets from cocoanut palm reeds. He was quite skilled. Mary and Joan bought one of his (green) baskets. The guy parked next to him was selling shell and bead jewelry (which he supposedly made), from the back of his pick-up. While the girls looked at his wares, I don’t think they were comfortable with the authenticity, quality or prices. The next two parking spots were occupied by women and their cars. I don’t remember what they were peddling. We had a good view of the twin falls - about our level, and not too far away. Quite a way down to the bottom, I could see some people playing in the pool of water from the falls.
After seeing the Falls. We headed for Rice Street in Lihue, for our Saimin “fix”. I used to go to a little café in Hanapepe for saimin when we lived here. But, when we had lunch at the bakery there the other day, I didn’t see it. Funny, how things change in 50 years! We enjoyed our different lunch. While the café’ was small, it was full. When people would leave, it wasn’t long before they were replaced by newcomers. We sat at the counter - on small stools which weren’t bolted to the floor. While they weren’t too safe, they were practical, and were part of the interesting atmosphere. Three middle-aged ladies staffed the facility - one cooking and dishing up in the small kitchen - and the other two serving as fast as she prepared the noodle combinations. So, between all of us, we kept them busy. The overhead fans didn’t quite provide enough cool air.
We were in the area of the Nawiliwili port, so we drove around the harbor area. We wanted to see where our car and furniture was loaded on to the Matson freighter, when we returned to the Mainland - and Vallejo - in 1962. Our furnishings left from here because the Port is the closest to Kalaheo. When our things were in-bound from Antioch in 1958, they arrived and were off-loaded at Port Allen, which is closer to Kaumakani.
It was only about a half hour drive to Poipu. We wanted to see Spouting Horn, and the girls wanted to snorkel at Brennecke’s Beach. This was alongside the cove where we used to go. We stopped first at the Spouting Horn parking lot. The last time that I was here was about 50 years ago. At that time, we just parked along the side of the road to watch the “spouting”. There was a lot of exposed lava rock and we had the place to ourselves. There was higher spouting back then.
Today, besides the large parking area, there are a string of tented shops leading down to the spouting area. The vendors are selling everything from jewelry to sweat shirts. I wonder where some of the shell necklaces and earrings come from. For, there is a state policy of “what you find in Hawaii, stays in Hawaii.” The car thermometer, in Poipu, says 86 degrees.
We stopped a couple of times to pick up real estate flyers touting beach-front rentals or “For Sales”. I sat in a covered picnic area “guarding” purses and clothes while the girls snorkeled.
We had a nice lunch at a cozy restaurant in nearby Koloa. We walked through a few shops, before heading on another “wild goose chase” looking for my “cocoanut pies”, but to no avail.
Back to Kapaa and the Outrigger. The girls went down to the pool and the beach, while I read the Garden Island and the Honolulu Advertiser. About this time, the Honolulu Star Bulletin (the afternoon paper) bought the Advertiser. Their merger resulted in a loss of 300 newspaper jobs!
Monday night, the girls went out for an Italian dinner. I was content to stay behind and dined on the remainder of my saimin lunch, and a piece of cocoanut crème pie. I looked forward to breakfast every morning on the lanai, watching the workers below, sprucing up the grounds. How about my menu: papaya, guava juice and cold cereal topped with a very sweet and juicy banana from a local Kapaa tree? What a way to go!
During the week, we passed the former Cocoanut Palms complex on the Wailua River many times. It was ruined by Iniki in 1992. Apparently, the owners didn’t have any insurance, or resources to repair/rebuild it. It sits on such prime property, and is an eyesore. It is extra depressing for me because Marie and I used to go there quite often, for dinner, the lighting of the torches, and entertainment. Now, each time that we pass by, I am overwhelmed by sadness recalling my great memories of 50 years ago.
The girls went next door each morning to Marie’s bakery for their coffee. During their visits their conversation got around to me and Olokele. Marie told them that Ruth Cassel still lived on a farm in Waimea. She said we would remember each other. When they told me, I certainly remembered Ruth! How could I forget? I remembered her for her beauty and friendliness. Even though she was a haole’, she had that Hawaiian friendliness and graciousness. The Cassels had five kids as we did - four boys and a girl. I worked with her husband, Jim, on the plantation. He was Olokele’s Agriculturist. Both of them were from Iowa, having arrived a few months before we did. They were both musicians - Ruth played the piano, and gave lessons to the plantation kids. Jim played the trombone.
Tuesday turned out to be a very interesting - but a long day!
Early in the morning, Mary called Ruth to see if we could get together later on. Ruth said that she had organ practice in the morning. So

KAUAI (cont.)

2010-06-29T09:52:00.000-07:00

Next we had a nice lunch at the Calypso. We had a cool seat on the porch from where we had a good view of all the tourists passing through.
Olokele used to rent a beach house, on the beach at Hanalei, during the summer months. It was really nice. The Pacific Ocean was only a few yards away from the front yard. The plantation would let us take turns using the house to spend part of our vacations. I wanted to check the vacation house out while we were there. So we drove around for quite a while searching for the house. (It never used to be hard to find). After a fruitless search for a half hour, I talked them into giving up. The problem was that I couldn’t recall any landmark ford back to Hanalei. We the area. In addition, there was a lot of building that had taken place in the last 50 years. (After getting back, I checked with our daughter Anne about the house. Anne has spent quite a bit of time on Kauai in recent years, so she was a good source. She told me that Hurricane Iniki leveled the house in 1992 I didn’t think of that, I just presumed that it had been torn down.)

Olokele used to rent a beach house, on the beach at Hanalei, during the summer months. It was really nice. The Pacific Ocean was only a few yards away from the front yard. The plantation would let us take turns using the house to spend part of our vacations. I wanted to check the vacation house out while we were there. So we drove around for quite a while searching for the house. (It never used to be hard to find). After a fruitless search for a half hour, I talked them into giving up. The problem was that I couldn’t recall any landmark ford back to Hanalei. We the area. In addition, there was a lot of building that had taken place in the last 50 years. (After getting back, I checked with our daughter Anne about the house. Anne has spent quite a bit of time on Kauai in recent years, so she was a good source. She told me that Hurricane Iniki leveled the house in 1992 I didn’t think of that, I just presumed that it
it had been torn down.)
Then, I suggested that we drive along Hanalei Bay beach front, so that we could see the Hanalei Pier and the former Wilcox mansion near the Hanalei Pavilion Beach Park. We saw a large mansion on the green, but it wasn’t familiar to me. I suspect that Iniki got the old mansion too, and what we were seeing was a reconstruction of it. We retraced our route back to Kapaa.
We had a little down time to rest and get ready to head out once again for Poipu. We had reservations at the Beach House Restaurant for dinner. Anne recommended that we eat here so we could also see a great Poipu sunset. She also suggested that we have a mai tai on the huge outside veranda, at the Hyatt, on Shipwreck Beach. While our reservation at the restaurant was for 6:30, we left

KAUAI (Cont,)

2010-06-24T10:06:00.000-07:00

Kauai is surb-titled the “Garden Island”- and rightly so. It’s floal beauty is spectacular. I felt like I was in a spiritual paradise - far removed from reality. This is the oldest of the main Hawaiian Islands. Kauai has an area of 550 square miles, the fourth largest of the main islands. Lihue (County seat) is about 100 miles northwest of Honolulu, on Oahu.
When we first arrived in Honolulu on January 15, 1958, the economy was ranked as follows in importance:

(1) - Sugar
(2) - Pineapple
(3) - Government
(4) - Tourism.
Today, there is no longer any sugar or pineapple grown on the Island, (I heard that marijuana is now the number one cash crop!) Tourism leads the economy, followed by Government. This is why the Hawaiian economy has taken such a beating during the current recession.
Lihue is the County seat, and yet Kapaa at 10,000 population, is twice as large! The 2000 census counted about 58,000 people. This
This figure was updated to 68,000 in 2008. It will be interesting what the Census Bureau comes up with in the current 2010 census. When we moved to Kauai in 1958, the population on Kauai was estimated to be 18,000 (1,000 Caucasians!) Kauai, and the small island of Niihau, (now owned by the Robinson family), were the last Hawaiian Islands to join King Kamehameha’s Kingdom of Hawaii in 1810.
There are thousands of chickens roaming everywhere on the Island. They look like Rhode Island Reds to me. The chicken should be the State Bird, rather than the Nene! The original Polynesian settlers brought them as a food source. Hurricane Iniki didn’t help things, when it destroyed many of their coops. I can’t help but wonder what happens to all of the hens’ eggs? The chickens are not bashful. Wherever people are gathered - be it the beach or park - the chickens are there.
are 24 Long’s stores in the Islands, which were not included in the CVS purchase of Longs on the mainland. Cvs plans to eventually acquire these 24.
Our accommodations are great. We are on the second of four levels, and have partial ocean views, and look down on the pool area. Our condo is as high as you can build on Kauai. The County building code limits buildings to a height of a palm tree (about 40 feet.) There are two bedrooms with queen size beds. Each bedroom has a private tub and bathroom. Off the kitchen, there is another half bath and a shower. There is also a washer and drier, adjacent to the k
It was quite a wait before Joan and Mary picked up our Hertz rental car. They said that the Hertz lady was promoting a lot of “extras”. Our car is a Toyota Camry. We need a full-size car for a trunk that is large enough to hold all of our luggage.
A short drive from the airport in Lihue up #56, the Kuhio Highway, to Kapaa, and our Outrigger condo at Waipouli Beach. Our unit wasn’t ready when we checked in, and the girls went across the highway and shopped at Safeway. (They were shocked by the high food prices. They reflect the 25-30% cost of shipping the goods). There is also a Long’s Drug store in the complex. There itchen. The large “great room’ is very spacious and “open”. It includes a very nice full kitchen, a dining area, and a living room. Off each bedroom, and the living room, there are nice lanai’s with an ocean view. Flat TV’s (Wednesday), we ate out at a nearby restaurant on the beach.
Thursday morning, and we are off to Kalaheo and Kaumakani to visit the two houses he used to live in. It won’t belong before each time we start out, we will harmonize “On the Road Again!” Our first stop was at our Kalaheo house where we lived from January 1960 to June 1962. Sue was born while we lived here, I never knew the address because there was no mail delivery are mounted on the walls of both bedrooms and the great room.
Tonight, back then. We picked up our mail at a “box” in the post office. Today, I notice that it is 5222 Puwai. I recognized the house, and we pulled up in front. The resident, Lawrence Vindinha, Sr. came out on his porch checking us out (slow day).
We took a few pictures, and then introduced ourselves. We explained why we were browsing around. He said that his son was out back mowing (the sharp -wide leaved- buffalo grass) It wasn’t long before his son appeared. His father introduced him, as “Larry.” During our conversation, Larry said that he would be 60 on his next birthday. The father said that his wife had died a couple of years ago, and Larry was living with him. I was disappointed that he didn’t invite us to see the inside of the house.
We bought “5222” in 1960 for $14,000. Marie couldn’t cope with the very red dirt at Kaumakani. She suggested that we move. We found this house in Kalaheo we both liked. It was about 1000 feet up, mauka from the highway. So, it was cooler than Kaumakani, and of course much wetter. Even though we were only a 20 minute drive apart. I didn’t have a rain gauge back then. But I would guess that we probably got 100 inches of rain a year, compared to the 20 inches at Kaumakani! (We had to irrigate the sugar cane). At Kalaheo, we were only a few miles from Mt. Waialeale - “the wettest spot on earth” - where the rainfall averages 440 inches of rain a year. As I remember, it seemed to rain mostly at night. I would have mold on the soles of my dress shoes! Now, that is “damp”!
While talking to the two Vindinhas, I couldn’t help but notice the light green metal roof on the house. It looked exactly the same as it did in 1962, when I had last seen it. I mentioned that the roof has surely held up well (after nearly 50 years!) Lawrence. Sr. said he told his son Larry, that they should get a new roof. But, he said, “Each time, Larry says that he is waiting for the Permit!”.
We drove back in the “woods”, where no road existed 50 years ago. Now, there are beautiful homes back in there. There used to be just a foot path that went in there. Mary wanted to check out the spot where she, Anne and the Friedlanders used to look for “ treasures”. I had never had heard Mary mention this before. Apparently, people would illegally drop off their junk back there. She also wanted to explore the “meadow” where horses used to graze. These memories were quit emotional for her, as I am sure they were to Anne, too the first time she re-visited those areas.
From Kalaheo, we headed for Hanapepe for lunch. I suggested that we eat at Mike’s Café. Marie and I ,and the family used to go there quite often Not only was their Chinese food. It was always fresh and, along with their tasty rice, was very good. Too, we liked Florence who served us. She was very good with serving the girls, plus she baked Mike’s delicious lilikoi pies. Occasionally, we would meet friends there for lunch or dinner. A memorable occasion was the day we had a Reception there following Sue’s Baptism at Holy Cross Church in Kalaheo, during December of 1961. Much to my disappointment, Mike’s restaurant was no longer in business, but it was still Wong’s Chinese Restaurant. I asked people who were having lunch( apparently, they were the owners, or their employees,) about Mike’s Café . She told me that it was closed after hurricane Iniki hit in 1992. But, I did get a slice of their lilikoi pie “to go.”
So, I suggested that we try the Green Garden across the road, where we used to also go, many years ago. We were greeted by a sign, “Open only on weekends”. So, we ended up eating at the Hanapepe Café and Bakery, nearby. It was very good.
After lunch, we headed for Kaumakani, as we wanted to check out where we lived on the plantation. The managerial housing complex on the Main, and adjacent street, are very run down, since Olokele Sugar closed operations, and Robinson bought the property, in 1994. Robinson is renting many of the houses. While the girls were taking pictures of our former home, John Meideros, who lives in it now, pulled up in his pick-up. The girls had quite a long conversation with John. He was very animated and interested, and didn’t seem in any hurry to leave.
Friday, June 4. It turned out to be a long day. It was a good thing that we did some pre-planning, and stuck pretty close to our plan. It is good that we did, or we would not have been able to accomplish as much as we did. We pulled out of the parking lot of the Outrigger at 0930. Right on time!
It was about an hour’s ride up to the northern part of Kauai. Mary wondered where we used to go, and slide down the falls, into a pool of water. I told her it was the Kilauea Falls - near the Kilauea Point Lighthouse. We didn’t go back to the falls (we were on a schedule!). When we returned, I asked the concierge about the falls. He said that there had been a fatality there a few years ago, so they closed the falls to the public.
We passed the very pretty Princeville Resort, which includes 36 holes of golf. Princeville always reminds me of running into a tourist on the Hanalei pier. We were spending a week at the beach house that the plantation rented for the summer. I was standing on the pier watching the fishermen maneuvering their boat and nets. A fellow came up and started talking to me. He said that they were staying at the Princeville Resort, on the ridge overlooking Hanalei Bay, high above. I was impressed, because 50 years ago, it was fairly new. I knew that it was a posh place, because the room rates started at $100 a night. (I wonder what they are today?). He as ked me where I was from. I told him, “Kauai”. He said, “You mean that you live here all the time?” He seemed envious. Back to the highway
we wee approaching the guava turn before heading down into the Hanalei Valley. This is one of my favorite spots. I looked down on beautiful-sandy Lumahai Beach (where they filmed parts of “South Pacific”. Around the curve, I am looking down and seeing the many taro fields. (They make poi from the taro roots). After descending, we cross the one-way concrete bridge over the Hanalei River. The bridge must be a 100 years old. The State/County wanted to replace it with a modern two-way bridge, but the locals put up such a squawk, that they gave u on the idea. So, it’s still whichever car shows up first - going in either direction - has the right-of way.
I notice a lot of convertibles driving through Hanalei. They are fortunate that it is a nice day, and they can have the tops down. I
I notice one bald-white haired driver, and his female companion, in one of them. Good for him! I assume that they are all rental cars. Like the Napa Valley, they are popular rentals.
Drive through Hanalei, still on #560, heading for Haena - at the end of the road. We cross many small bridges on the winding scenic road. We arrive at the parking lot at the Haena State Park, and it is full! It is only 11:00 o’clock on a Friday morning, and the place is full. I couldn’t believe it! The last time that Marie and I were there (about 30 years ago) we ere the only ones on the beach, and the only car in the parking lot!
Outside of Lumahai Beach (that I have mentioned), this beach is the most scenic of any that I have seen. To the left, I can look at the bluff on the Napali Coast. To the right is the sandy beach. The girls unload their snorkeling gear, and Joan has a long walk to find a parking spot. I am the sentry, guarding their clothes and purses, while they explore the colorful fish inhabiting the reef.

KAUAI

2010-06-22T13:02:00.000-07:00

THE COLOSSEUM

2010-06-01T10:23:00.000-07:00

THE COLOSSEUM
I just read an excellent essay in the May 29-30, 2010 Wall Street Journal, written by James Gardner (“A Wonder From Any Angle”). If you didn’t see the article, be sure and visit your library and read it. You will be glad that you made the effort! The subject matter concerned the Colosseum in Rome - one of the seven wonders of the world! I would guess that many of you were mesmerized when you saw this magnificent structure. Those who have not had the opportunity, add it to your list of “Great Places I Want to See Before I Check Out”.
Marie and I visited Rome in 1985 - a couple of years after I retired from the California and Hawaiian Sugar Company. It was Maries first visit and my third - if you can call seeing Rome from 25,000 feet a “visit”. The only difference is that I had a tremendous view from overhead, as opposed to physically walk in that sacred place.
My first visit was at about high noon on July 19, 1943. I was sitting on a very small seat behind a Norden bombsight. I was the bombardier on a B-17 Flying Fortress named “Skippy”. Our crew was assigned to the Second Bomb Group - part of General Jimmy Doolittle’s Twelfth Air Force.
At our very early- morning Briefing, I noticed that the “target” map was covered when we entered the Briefing Room. When they uncovered it, I was flabbergasted, when I saw that the red -course line ended up at Rome. This was to be my 34th combat mission. The “Briefer” announced the target to be the rail marshalling yard in the center of Rome. He went on to tell us that it was a strategic target, because the German -supply line to southern Italy, ran through Rome. Near the end of his presentation, he said he realized that some Catholic bombardiers might have a conflict of interest. Then, he gave each of us a chance to opt out of the mission. Not a single hand went up. We were warned time and time again during the briefing to concentrate on getting the bombs in the assigned target area.
We were briefed to fly at 21,500 feet, at an indicated air speed of 150 knots. We were unescorted, and each B-17 carried twelve 500# bombs. The flak from the German 88mm guns was moderate, and the German/Italian fighter attack was light - I did see a few fighters. Apparently the enemy was as surprised as I was at the Briefing. Our bomb run was from the north to the south. We were the second Group, in trail, on the bombing run. Our mission was the first bombing of the war. The fine weather permitted good visibility.
How did they expect us to concentrate on the marshalling yard, when down below I could see the winding Tiber River up ahead. To the left I had a tremendous view of Vatican City, with the Forum and the Colosseum straight ahead. Somehow, all of the bombardiers stayed focused, and we dropped most of our bombs in the rail yards. This was about our longest mission - eight hours!
Our second Rome mission was on August 13, 1943 - “Friday the 13th. While I normally am not superstitious, this “unlucky” time did cross my mind! This was my 41st mission. Our target area was still the rail marshalling yard. About the only difference was that we bombed from 25,000 feet. Our bomb load was the same 12 - 500’s. We were fortunate to have our P-38 “friends” escorting us. I did see two German fighters, and they attacked the formation. The flak was moderate but very accurate - bursting at our altitude. Our mission time was shorter this time - only five hours and a quarter. Our flying time was shorter because our Group had moved in North Africa - from near Algiers to near Tunis. This was made possible by Montgomery’s Eighth Army chasing Rommel eastward in the “Battle of Africa.”
Fast forward to Marie’s and my visit to Rome in 1985. We took a Tour of Rome. Marie and I were sitting in the right front seat - what a vantage point. As we came around the curve on the Via dei Fori Imperiali, the Colosseum filled the whole right side of the windshield ahead of us! I can’t describe my emotion at that moment. What a strange feeling. After seeing pictures of the stadium in my geography books, in the News Reels, and various other media, I never dreamed that I would ever see it close-up - and there it is. I was surprised how large it is, and how well preserved. Think of it - almost 2,000 years old and still majestically standing! When I walked around inside, I experienced a very strange emotion - knowing a little about it’s history.

RCL - 5/31/10.

A TWISTED PATH

2010-05-31T19:13:00.000-07:00

A TWISTED PATH
My wife of more than 65 years has dementia. As I navigate this tricky road with her, I have learned a lot. On the flip side, I hope that I have made her journey a little easier - not as her caregiver - but as her fellow traveler. No longer knowing yourself, let alone knowing others, is a very sad commentary. Yet, I feel that I must hang in there and “go with the flow”, accept the syndrome, and do the best that I can for both of us.
During some of my visits with Marie, I am moved to make notes for future reference. I would like to share some of them with you - not expecting pity, but as a learning tool for others who might be already facing- or will be - a similar conundrum.
April 7, 2010.
Today, she said, “Maybe they will let me go and live with you. This is a strange life.”
Marie has been in Laurel Creek, our skilled nursing facility. for over a year now. Almost every time I start to leave her in the dining room, she questions me on how she will get “home”? Today, she asked me if I would stay and take her home. (I surmise that “home” means helping her get back to her room - not literally.)
May 11, 2010.
I was talking to Marie, while visiting her, and she said, “Aren’t we lucky to be together all theses years?” This followed our conversation about her up-coming birthday on May 26. She asked me how old she would be, and I told her 87. She couldn’t believe it! She said, “That’s old!”.
She asked me if I were having dinner with her, and I said, “No, some other time.” She said, “That’s what you always say!”. I was making this note at her dining table, and she asked me what I was writing.
May 15, 2010.
I visited Marie this afternoon, and she looked good. Of course, she always looks good, and I look forward to seeing her. Yet, she said that she didn’t feel well. I asked her where she hurt, She described her pain to me, but it didn’t make sense.
I knocked before I entered her room, as one should do before they entered anyone’s home. The only difference, I didn’t wait for her to acknowledge me, because she is usually sleeping. When I reached her bed, her responses were logical and they gave me a good feeling. When she first saw me she said “I’m glad to see you honey.” One couldn’t beat this touching greeting.
I went over to the recliner to fill out her “Meal Request” form for the next day (Sunday). I hadn’t any more sat down when she said, “You didn’t kiss me.” I apologized, and told her that I had put Vaseline on my lips as they were chapped, and I didn’t want to get it on her. She said, I will take Vaseline on my cheek.” So, I kissed her twice on her right cheek. Then, she said “I love you.”
She laid back on her bed with her eyes closed. I sat alongside in the large blue chair observing her peaceful-looking face. The family knows her as a “worrier.”, yet, I didn’t detect a worry line, furrow or wrinkle in her face! What beauty! My thoughts reflected back on how we looked in the pictures of us together, through the years. She didn’t have the same expression when those pictures were taken. Her beauty has aged gracefully, and I am so thankful that I can still see her face. I have never seen her with long hair, until now. Her gray hair loops on top of her shoulders, and is quite attractive. It is strange, but she adamantly refuses to get it cut. It certainly would be easier for the CNA’s when they wash it.
In about ten minutes, she opened her eyes and said, “How long shall I wait?” (She was referring to leaving for the dining room.) I told her that she could rest another five minutes before we leave. It was amazing! In exactly five minutes, she raised up - sat on the edge of the bed and put on her shoes. Part of her departure routine is to go to the bathroom before we leave - even though she had gone just five minutes before!
Marie walks quite well with the aid of her walker. She wears an anklet that triggers an alarm if she approaches a doorway leading to the outside. The alarm goes off as we pass the first door leading outside. I key in the reset code, and the alarm stops. Marie now senses when the alarm will go off, as we are walking. She will slow down, waiting for me to catch up with her, after pausing to turn off the alarm. Early on, I noticed that if I walk between her and the sensor, it provides a shield to the alarm signal, and it doesn’t sound. I usually walk on her right side. As we near the alarm-sensor area, I shift my course to be on her left side - to shield the alarm signal. Marie must sense this, and moves to her left to crowd me out!
I stand next to Marie at her dining table, until they deliver her meal. (About ten minutes.) She dines at a table with three other ladies. Tonight the CNA parked this obnoxious guy, in a wheel chair, behind their table. He started his loud coughing. All of the nearby diners gave him “the look”. Finally. Marie said that she was going to move to another chair across the room. I asked her “why?” She said “So she wouldn’t have to listen to him.”
I left the dining room, shortly afterwards, when the dinner arrived from the central kitchen. As I left, I ran into Charina the nurse on Station 3. She was giving the various residents their medications. So. I mentioned the offending “cougher.” I told her that the guy coughed so loud he could be heard over at Quail Creek (where I live), a quarter mile away. I also told Charina the guy should be eating in his room, rather than disturb all of the rest of the diners. I told her that not only was his coughing very loud, and disturbing, it was very un-appetizing. She listened to me, but I could read her expression - “What else is new?”
I was talking to our older daughter Anne recently, who had visited her Mother recently. Anne told Marie what a smooth complexion she had. Marie told Anne, “I will have to remember to tell Ray, because he says that too”.
Today, Sue and I were visiting Marie. Nurse, Kathy, came into her room. I was debating whether to tell Marie that Mary, Joan, Sue and I were going to Kauai for a week, on Wednesday. Our conversation pre-empted the need to tell her. Marie didn’t comment. Time is not relevant to her. I presume that she won’t miss us, She didn’t seem to miss me when I was gone for ten days last year. I will have peace of mind, knowing that she will be receiving the best care that money can buy!
RCL - 5/30/10.

LeBRON

2010-05-14T18:56:00.001-07:00

LeBron
I forgot to watch the Cleveland Cavaliers - Boston Celtics NBA Eastern Semi- Final basketball game last night. I was reminded of this when I tuned in to ESPN’s Sports Center, after the game. The panelists were discussing the game, and I learned that Boston won game six, (94-85),and the series - four games to two. I was surprised . The Cleveland Cavaliers had the best record for the season. This was a “must win” for Cleveland, and they were playing in Cleveland. Afterwards, they couldn’t “go home” - they were already home!
The panelists discussed the game. Chris Broussard predicted that Mike Brown, the Cavalier’s coach, wouldn’t be back in Cleveland next season, because he didn’t win the Championship last year or this year. How can he blame the coach for the loss? Mike couldn’t execute his plays on the court. The players are paid big bucks and more than he is to coach them. I would think that it would be very difficult to motivate young millionaires. The loss wasn’t a case of “If the student hasn’t learned, the coach hasn’t taught!”
Chris also inferred that LeBron didn’t step up - as the NBA‘s “Most Valuable Player” - for the past two years. While Cleveland pays a lot of money to LeBron, basketball is a team game. Still. James had a better game than the average NBA player - 27 points; 10 assists and 19 rebounds, a career high. The panelist ignored LeBron’s stats, and poked at him for his nine turnovers. LeBron took on the load, and the pressure, of trying to salvage the series. He was trying to do too much. The only other NBA player to have more “triple doubles!”, in the history of the Playoffs, was Michael Jordan, who had two. Speaking of the coach, I thought Mike would have subbed more for LeBron. Fresher legs and healthier elbows might have paid off.
Shortly, James will be a “Free Agent”, and will be able to shop his basketball talent to teams needing a star player, and have enough money to sign him. The three panelists spent more time discussing where LeBron might play next year, than they did analyzing the game. The reporters brought up the subject again, with LeBron at the post-game interviews. . The Cleveland management and fans have been very good to
LeBron. He also grew up in nearby Akron. This combination should make LeBron’s decision easy. But, when a young athlete pits his, or her, loyalty against dollars, their decision is not always based on a gut feeling. It becomes clouded. Some times the star players’ wallets and hearts are far apart. When you are already a multi-millionaire at the age of 26, I wouldn’t think that you would be looking for additional -marginal dollars, that you will have to share with Uncle Sam! I predict that LeBron will stay put in Cleveland.
RCL - 5/14/10.

LENA

2010-05-12T04:06:00.000-07:00

LENA
Lena Horne died two days ago, Sunday, May 9, 2010 - Mothers’ Day - at the age of 92. Lena was a mother, having had two children during the time that she was married to Louis Jones - 1937-1944.
Lena’s, and my, nonagenarian lives have spanned a lot of interesting history - some very interesting - and uplifting - and some very deflating and sad. She was a talented, and well known entertainer, who performed over six decades. Besides being known as a “singer”, she also appeared in 21 movies! I am glad that I got to see her perform in person - up close. Marie and I saw one of her shows in the Crown Room of the Fairmont Hotel in San Francisco. That was probably 40 years ago. I can still relate to the chills I felt back then, when she sang her theme song, “Stormy Weather”. The world has lost another person who has helped to make our world a more pleasant place to live.
RCL - 5/11/10.

BERINGER WINERY

2010-05-03T10:56:00.000-07:00

BERINGER WINERY
Today (April 28, 2010), we are heading to the Napa Valley - once again. Like San Francisco, I never tire of seeing such a great environment. There are five residents on the bus - two of us who are ambulatory, one with a walker, and two riding power chairs. Tony is so patient, and careful, when loading and unloading the latter. We leave at 9:25 in cool weather and broken clouds. It was clear earlier this morning, but convection has turned the humid air into clouds.
The Arco gas station is posting gas at $2.98. The futures price today is $82.44/bbl, down $1.76. We are on I-80 heading westbound. Traffic is light in both directions. We are crossing the Putah South Canal. The source of this small stream of water is the Putah Diversion Dam about 6 miles downstream from the Monticello Dam. This dam forms Lake Berryessa.
I am seeing more trucks on the highway than I used to see a few months ago. This is one way that I keep tab on the progress of the recovery from the recession of the last couple of years. My other measures for testing the economy are the number of cars in the Mall parking lot, the number of “container” trucks I see and the number of ads in the Wall Street Journal.
The sign says Vallejo 14, and San Francisco 44. Passing a bottom-dump truck and trailer. I don’t see many of this type of truck, unless they are moving dirt or rocks. Yet, there are bottom-dump trailers for hauling loads of bulk sugar. The mustard seed is still blooming and doing well. Most of the poppies have departed until next spring.
Now, the sky is black, and cars coming from the opposite direction all have their headlights “on”. It is also windy - flags are waving straight out. The weatherman forecasts “showers”. I believe him. I can tell that we have had a rainy season. There is a lot of standing water in the lowlands below us. Rain is always good news, after three seasons of less than normal rainfall. Now, I can see blue sky. We are passing a Chevron station. Gas is posted at $3.16 - higher in prestigious Napa County. Passing the Don Giovanni Bistro. We have eaten there on one of our outings, and the food was very good.
We are passing the Vintage 1870 complex on the right. They have a lot of interesting shops and good restaurants. Passing a lot of wineries before we pass the Oakville Grocery. This market was established almost 130 years ago. It is a very interesting place to visit - excellent sandwiches and picnic supplies. It is like visiting Wall’s Drugs in South Dakota - only on a much smaller scale. Check it out if you are in the area. The young grape vines are about two feet high. Passing by the small town of Rutherford, and next to the Napa Wine Train tracks. Passing Sattui winery on the right. We are passing through the city of St. Helena - a very interesting setting. The city has done a good job refurbishing their Main Street - some very interesting shops. (Not much tourist traffic yet).We pass 76 and Chevron stations - gas at both is $3.20! There are a lot of appealing smaller homes, along the highway, in St. Helena. You could probably buy one for a million!
Tony drives past the Beringer Vineyards driveway to avoid making a dangerous left turn. He goes a little way before he can pull over to the right and swing around and make a 180. We pass the Christian Brothers winery and the Culinary Academy (many cars in the parking lot). He makes a sharp right turn into the narrow Beringer winery drive, and parks in the “Handicap” loading area to drop us off. It is 10:25.
I haven’t been here at Beringers for probably 40 years. When I last visited, there were only a few wineries in the Napa valley - primarily, Beringer, Charles Krug and the Christian Brothers facilities. Charles Krug was the first winery in the Napa Valley. It was established in 1861. But, Beringer is the oldest continuously- operating winery in the Napa Valley, founded in 1876. Since then, the winery has changed hands a few times. As I remember, PepsiCo owned it at one time. Today, Foster Brewery of Melbourne owns Beringer. Foster’s Beringer- Blass Group is the seventh largest wine producer in the U.S.
When Marie and I started visiting Charles Krug so many years ago, it was operated by the Mondovi family. Shortly afterwards (1965), Robert split from his Mondovi family at Charles Krug, and established his own winery in nearby Oakville. It was so long ago, when we visited wineries, they didn’t charge for wine tasting or Tours! (Today, most wineries charge $10 for sips of three varieties.) Back then, Beringer could handle the crowd in their stone mansion - their only wine tasting facility. Today, Beringer uses this quaint mansion for tasting their most expensive “Reserve” varieties. They re-habbed one of their stone- storage facilities to include a tasting area for their moderately priced wines, a gift shop and rest rooms. This area is not very ADA friendly. We had to walk/ride up the hill on a long incline, then double back and continue climbing on the walkway to a small lift. This Rube Goldberg held only a wheel chair and an attendant. The top was open and I could talk to the operator of the “elevator” a few feet above.
I browsed around the gift shop. Instead of spending $10 tasting, I added another $10, and bought a bottle of Beringer’s Napa Valley Merlot. Since buying this wine, I read in today’s Wall Street Journal “Taking advantage of the Wine Glut”, (May1-2,2010), that there is a world-wide over supply of wine, from over production, plus diminished consumption. Now, I am wondering if I overpaid for my Merlot? I probably will live with this unanswered question the rest of my life. Because of the wine glut, some winemakers are plowing up their vineyards. Some French producers are turning their wines into ethanol and it is causing local winemakers to seek financing.
There was quite a range of prices for the bottled wines in the gift shop. The “reds” ran from $19.00 (my buy) to $80 for a 2004 Montagia Cabernet Sauvignon (a Reserve). The “whites” ran from $7.00 (White Zinfandel, White Merlot, Moscato and Chenin Blanc.) to $20.00 for a 2007 Stanley Ranch Chardonnay. There is a tug of war going on for the
wine-bottle -stopper business. Cork is losing some of it’s long held market monopoly to screw top and plastic inserts.
I miss touring the wineries, like Marie and I used to do. Those free Tours ended with free wine tasting. Today, you don’t see much touring of winery facilities, because there is also an extra charge for them.
We leave the winery at 11:35. An Exxon station is posting gas at $3.20. We are passing St. Helena High School. The marquee in front of the school advertises their baseball game after school. I hope that they get it in between rain showers. Passing the Zumwalt Used Car Agency, The sign particularly drew my attention, because it was spelled the same as the famous Admiral Elmo Zumwalt. I remember Marie speaking of him - one Of Tulare’s famous sons! Elmo graduated from Tulare High School three years ahead of Marie, in 1938. He was the class valedictorian. Elmo’s dad was a doctor in Tulare. Thinking about it now, I wonder if he could have delivered Marie? Interesting thought! Another famous son of Tulare, was Bob Mathias. (His dad was also a doctor in Tulare!). Bob went on to star in football at Stanford, and won two gold medals in the Olympics (Decathlon). His first medal was at the London Games in 1948. He was 17 years old - the youngest gold medalist to win a track and field event. Dr. Elmo Zumwalt was then the Mayor of Tulare. He presented Bob with the “Keys to the City” after a huge celebration and parade. Mathias also served four two year terms in the House of Representatives. It is a small world!
I have digressed. Back to the Napa Valley. As we are riding along, I couldn’t help but wonder about the total assessed value of Napa County? A BIG number! We arrive at the Rutherford Grill at 11:45. The restaurant was already packed. Many were eating at the bar, so the hostess was able to seat all eight of us , but we were separated at two tables. The quality of the food was very good, but the place was very noisy. I think the younger crowd likes this ambience. As I look out the window to check the weather, the Napa Wine Train is slowly moving along heading up-valley.
When we leave the restaurant at one o’clock, it is sprinkling - and I left my umbrella on the bus! Good planning! The parking lot is full of very expensive cars.(Tony had to park off-site). I notice a few workers in the vineyards - all wearing yellow slickers. We are passing the Robert Mondavi Winery on our right side. I reflect back many years , when Marie and I came here to picnic on the lawn, while listening to great music. We are passing many wineries and good restaurants. The California Veterans’ Home always stands out, against the green background, off to the right. We are passing the Red Hen, and the sun is popping out. The pavement is dry here, but that is the nature of shower activity.
The Factory Outlet Stores complex is on our right. We are passing my favorite white-belted cattle, grazing. I notice a lot of cattle grazing in various areas, but I never see the source for their drinking water? While waiting for the light to change at the intersection of highways 29 and 12 (Jamison Canyon), I point out to Tony, that his truck is along side -
(Tony’s Fine Foods).
We are back in Fairfield. Shell gas is posted at $3.09. Tony pulls in to Quail creek at 2:50. It was a nice day. RCL - 5/3/10.

Bouquets to Art (continued)

2010-04-25T20:32:00.000-07:00

BOUQUETS TO ART (continued)
We are continuing on the off-ramp from the Bay Bridge. It is always jammed up - stop and go. It will dump us off onto Octavia Street. We are finally moving again. We spent 20 minutes chugging along on that short stretch. It used to be crowded only on holidays. Now, it is an everyday occurrence. That’s progress I guess! Tony makes a left turn, from Octavia Street, on to Fell Street. I always enjoy seeing the interesting and different architecture on this one-way street - west-bound. The houses and apartment buildings are very interesting and well maintained.
We are crossing Haight Street. It will cross Ashbury to the south - the notorious “Hippy” intersection of the 60’s. At the intersection of Fell and Steiner, (NW corner), there is a very attractive Victorian house. To say that it is old is redundant. In any era, it is a large mansion. I would like to know it’s history. If you go by this way, check it out. The old Kezar Stadium off to our left. We are passing the famous carousel. I am surprised by all of the parked cars this early in the morning. The Concourse garage, beneath the Hall of Science, has a “FULL” sign in the entry drive.. No wonder everyone is parking on the street - space available!

We arrive at the museum at 10:45. I am surprised by the large attendance. I would think that it being mid-week, plus the $20 entrance fee ($17 for each of us), would skinny up the crowd. But, not so. The first thing that we do is to head for the elevator that will take us to Level 9 of the Tower. From this height we can see all over the area. The floor is walled-in by large glass windows, for a great panorama view.
I suggested to Kelli and Tony that we head for the cafeteria, even though it is only 11:15. At noon - straight-up - most Americans think of lunch! And then, there is a big traffic jam, and a long lunch hour! They agreed, and we head back down to the Café’ on the Main Floor. We are at the end of a long line. Everyone else in line had the same idea - eat early and avoid the rush! This must be a cultural thing! The Café’ places menu cards at the queuing area, for people to peruse, as they wait in line (very smart!). This helps to speed up the chow line. Even so, it is slow going. Dining staff member told us that the line in the “tent” dining area was shorter, and they serve the same menu, with the food on site. So, we beat a path to the tent. I am not sure our new line was any shorter. We still waited 15 minutes to order.
Tony and I sat next to each other. We had a good view of the action in front of us. There were 17 “senior” women sitting at tables and chairs, pushed together to make one long table. Two of the ladies were the Activities Director and the bus driver. The ladies wore red hats, or red sweaters or jackets. I presume this was for crowd control, making each one easier to spot among the large throngs. What was interesting is they brought box lunches (along with bottled water), even though it was printed on the menu that “No food can be brought in”. While they were eating their sandwiches, an official from the museum came to their table and made a pitch. ( She was tall, with red hair and attractive!) We heard her tell them not to loiter over lunch. They need to free up the tables and chairs for “paying” customers. They complied, even though they passed around a large plastic container of fresh strawberries for dessert. I noticed that there were some berries left in the container. I asked Tony, if I should suggest to them, that we would take them, so they wouldn’t have to carry them back. He just smiled. I took this as a “No”. At least the women were very neat. They put their empty - plastic lunch containers back into the handled-paper bags, from where they came, and the Activities Director carried them off.
After lunch, we headed for the floral displays. They were spectacular. I’ve never seen anything like them before. The only problem - a big one - the congestion - around each exhibit, in the 30 galleries that we walked through. There were not only people (predominantly women), but each one seemed to have a camera - digital or phone. I think that I was the only one in the place without a camera. It was almost like it was a condition for admission! They were taking a picture of each display. One women I saw, was not only taking a picture, but she was “texting” the name of the floral exhibit.
I particularly like two exhibits with a Hawaiian theme. One included bird of paradise and the other anthuriums. I particularly noticed them because I had Hawaii on my mind. Mary, Joan, Sue and I are heading for Kauai, in June, for a week. I will be able to cross off “Visit Kauai” from my “To Do Before I Die” list. Also, Joan and Sue will enjoy visiting the hospital in Waimea where they both were born. This trip will be Mary’s first year back, since we left there for the mainland in 1962. Mary and I have many fond memories of the four and a half years that we lived on Kauai - while Hawaii was a Territory, and also after it became our 50th state in 1959.
Back to the de Young. Very few people paid any attention to the beautiful paintings. I did a little wandering. I liked the furniture exhibit. There were seventeen antique chairs sitting (sic) in a row. Each was a different type. Alongside was a huge walnut - laurel-wooden bench. It must have been at least nine feet wide. I would have liked to have seen the Amish Quilts exhibit but time was of the essence. Next time.
We left the museum at 1:55. A Brinks truck is parked at the curb. I guess they are picking up all the $20 bills that people paid to enter. We are on Oak Street, one way - inbound. Shell is posting gas at $3.16. Oak Street is not nearly as appealing as Fell Street - run down buildings which are not as attractive. Yet, the two streets run parallel to each other, with a landscaped island separating the two. I notice that we are passing the Cow Palace. The San Francisco Jail is on our right - adjacent to the freeway - convenient for a quich get-away in case of a jai break. We are now on the lower deck of the Bay Bridge heading eastbound. The speed limit used to be 55mph, until a truck went off the bridge trying to negotiate a detour curve. Since then, the speed limit has been reduced to 40mph at the curve. The roadside radar unit, west of Yuerba Buena, clocks our mass of traffic at 27. We pass The city limit demarcation sign - between Oakland and San Francisco - in the middle of the bridge. One of Hyundai’s container ships is berthed at the Port of Oakland - off to our right. The sun is out now, as we exit the bridge, but it is still cloudy.
We are passing Marriott’s Courtyard hotel in Emeryville. It is attractive and inviting. The Oakland estuary is running along the east side of the I-80 freeway. Sometimes I see crews rowing in their sculls - practicing. But, not today. I start day dreaming. I am wondering what is the average age for all the cars in the country? I guessed that a 2005 model would be about it. Obviously my estimate is not scientific. I not only based it on a small sample that I am observing along side, but also, I can’t identify a 2005 model from any other model year! At least, I don’t think that anyone can dispute my instinctive estimate. I thought about this statement, and “Googled” the topic. A National Auto Dealers’ study in 2001 found that 61% of the vehicles on the road, were older than seven years. A 2008 Polk study estimated the median age of the countrys‘ “fleet” at 9.4 years! This is hard for me to believe even considering that people have been hanging on to their cars longer during this recession. Annual new car sales/leases, before the recession, were around 17 million a year. The past two years the sales of new cars dropped to about 9 million. By not buying new cars, it pushes the average age upwards. The cars I am looking at today don’t look that old. Maybe California cars aren’t representative. I am sorry that I brought it up.
Steam is coming out of the California & Hawaiian Sugar Company refinery in Crockett - a sign that people are working. Yet, there is no cargo of raw sugar being unloaded. Tony is passing a truck hauling a container. I wonder if it is from the Hyundai? Now, it is overcast. With dark clouds wandering through the area. I can see rain falling to the east, The cattle are out in the pastures eating now. Steam is also coming out of the Budweiser plant in Fairfield - another good sign. The rain shower that I just saw must have moved through here in Fairfield, as the streets are wet. We arrive back at Quail Creek at 3:05, after having a great experience. I am already looking forward to next years Exhibition.
RCL - 4/24/10.

BOUQUETS TO ART

2010-04-23T10:45:00.000-07:00

BOUQUETS TO ART
Today is Wednesday, April 21, 2010. Our field trip today is to Golden Gate Park in San Francisco, where we will visit the de Young Museum. This is a famous museum known all over the country. It was founded in 1895, but damaged beyond repair by the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake, and closed. This was the building that I was most familiar with, because Marie and I and family had made many visits there. The original building was demolished, and the new building was constructed. The museum was reopened during October 2005. The de Young and Legion of Honor are under the umbrella of the Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco.
We leave Quail Creek at 9:20 in windy-misty and cold weather - more like winter than spring-like. There are five residents along. Just beyond our main gate there was a hardy foursome teeing up. With our cooler-rainy weather, the California Poppies (our State flower) are still in bloom. Gas at Arco is $2.98 a gallon, and $3.02 at Shell. The Futures price today, for crude oil (May delivery) is $83.45/bbl - up $2.00!
Traffic on I-80 is moderate - east and westbound. We are passing the Mini U Storage facility, where I still have “unresolved” items in storage. Manny tells me that their monthly rate is increasing from $59 to $64. This should provide me with an incentive to sort though the stuff for final disposition!
It is a gloomy day. Even the green hills look sleepy. I don’t see any cattle having breakfast either. They must be hunkering under the trees. We are passing the proverbial truck load of hay heading westbound. We are passing through Vallejo. There are no cars in the Six Flags parking lot. The Park must not be open for the season yet - probably the Memorial Day weekend. They are advertising for summer help - some 1200 jobs!
Surprising that no one is playing golf at the par 3 course, in the infield of the racetrack, at the Solano County Fairgrounds. The Fair will be held in July, for fewer days than it used to operate. The horse races have been discontinued. The long range plans call for a Commercial Center - for all-year use - to be developed, which will incorporate a smaller fairgrounds. Freeway traffic bogs down passing through Vallejo, as the I-80 freeway goes from four to three lanes.
A sign above a hotel - “Relax Inn”! How can you “relax” in a city that has filed for bankruptcy, laid off numerous policemen, has an increase in crime, with a 50% drop-out rate in the local -public high schools? There are a lot of cars parked at Safeway. This is an encouraging sign - mid-week shopping. Perhaps the economy is rebounding. But, again, people have to eat. My economic gauge is probably not the best.
As we pass over the Carquinez Strait, I get a good view of the large body of water below. It is quite “muddy” in color, caused by the recent rains upstream. Tony has his windshield wipers running at low speed. We are warm and comfortable. Passing a CHP car sitting on the emergency strip, “monitoring” the last remnants of commuters. A few miles, and I notice another Highway Patrol car, parked under the overpass. I wonder if the two officers are communicating with each other? I see a highway sign - Berkeley 10 miles.
It seems good that there isn’t any graffiti on the sound walls, like there used to be. Cal Trans obliterates the eyesore as soon as it shows up. Too, the vines climbing the walls, have helped to prevent the “taggers” from access. From Albany, the San Francisco skyline is quite hazy, as is the Golden Gate bridge. Yet, they are probably only 15 miles away - as the crow flies. In Emeryville, the parking lot in front of the Holiday Inn is only about half full. I guess that this confirms the publicity that business travel is down.
The long lines of cars, waiting for the drivers to pay their Bay Bridge tolls, looks like a huge parking lot. The bridge is a workhorse. It supports 250,000 cars per day! The toll currently is $4.00. This increases to $5 on July 1. We by-pass all of this congestion as Tony uses the “Car Pool/ Bus” lane. The highway patrol has culled out an illegal user. That driver will not earn enough today to pay for his transgression. That’s what I like about our culture. Some wise guy is always trying to beat the system!
I get a good view of the material storage area for the new East -bridge span under construction (Yuerba Buena Island to Oakland). Originally, the new span was scheduled to be completed shortly. But like all major projects, there is always un-scheduled time slippage. And, time is money - BIG money! Now, the bridge is about five years behind schedule, and due to be completed in 2013. This scedule slippage has quadrupled the final cost estimate! (6 billion!). It will take a lot of bridge tolls to get that back. But, this is the price you pay, when you place the structural-steel contracts so far away - in China.
We are passing the new One Rincon Hill skyscraper - right next to the freeway off ramp. It must be at least 40 stories high. How would you like to live in the penthouse during an emergency, when the elevators are out of service? You had better be ambulatory! The large sign on the building says, “Now selling. Onerinconhill.com”. I visited this website out of curiosity. I was educated! This high rise- living quarters is 60 floors high! If you don’t mind height, the top floor penthouse can be yours for $14 million. (The building does have a pool!). If you can’t afford living in the penthouse, they offer one, two and three bedroom residences. They are priced from the high $500s to mid- $3 Millions. If you are interested, the Sales Center offers complimentary valet parking.
(To be continued) RCL - 4/23/10.

SAVER

2010-04-20T10:55:00.000-07:00

SAVER.
My daughter Anne, and I, had lunch last week at the Fresh Choice restaurant, here in Fairfield. This is my favorite restaurant, even though a connoisseur might say that my French- taste buds have been diluted. They are probably right.
After we had finished eating, our conversation, somehow, switched to compulsive “savers”. I think that I used to be in this category. But, after downsizing twice in the past 24 years I am much less compulsive. I do admit to having trouble parting with possessions. I like to think that this trait is due to my “Great Depression” familial training. Our discussion reminded Anne of an essay in the May 2008 “Bits & Pieces”. She paraphrased it. I told her it was very interesting. So, she sent me a copy of the booklet.
I would like to share the piece. Bits & Pieces attributed their source to an adaptation from the Heart’n Souls web site.
KNOWING WHEN TO LET GO
The king was having a Grand Ball that evening to which he invited every person in the kingdom. He asked that everyone in attendance be dressed in formal attire.
More than anything, young Julius wanted to go. But, he was poor and hadn’t the means to acquire the appropriate clothing. He stood at the gate of the palace late that afternoon, imagining what it might be like to be on the other side.
“Why the long face son?”
Julius snapped out of his pensiveness. “What?”
“Why the long face? You should be home getting dressed for my ball. I’m on my way in myself to get ready.”
Julius couldn’t believe it! It was the king himself, speaking directly to a commoner. Julius explained his plight.
“Why that’s no problem at all”, assured the king. Then he summoned the prince to join them and instructed his son to find some suitable garments for their guest to wear at the party.
The prince escorted Julius to a royal dressing room where Julius was allowed to help himself and choose an outfit to wear and keep.
“I think you will be very happy with these new garments”, the prince said. “They are made of the finest threads and will not wear out quickly like your other clothes.”
“Thank you kindly, sir, said Julius, as he reached for his old clothes piled on the floor.
“Leave those,” the prince said. “They are of no use to you now.”
“But what if something happens to my new garments?” Julius asked.
“Then you can come to me again and I will give you something else to wear.”
Julius thought about this for a moment. “No, I may need these some day.”
“As you wish my good fellow,” the prince responded. “Come! The ball has just begun. Please go and enjoy every minute of it.”
Julius carried his old clothes with him throughout the party. And because he refused to part with this bundle, he was unable to dance or participate in many of the evening’s activities. When the servants came around with platters of food and drink, Julius could sample only a few delicacies, because he had only one free hand - the other was always holding on to the bundle of rags.
When the evening came to a close, the people left the palace filled with awe for all they’d seen and done. But, poor Julius couldn’t join in any of these reflections because he’d spent most of his time clutching his tattered old clothes.
How much had he failed to experience because he could not let go of what he no longer needed?
Note: - Even though I know better, I still have some “Julius” in me!
=====================================
Change: Change really becomes a necessity when you try not to do it.
Anne Wilson Schaef
Psychotherapist and writer.
RCL - 4/20/10.
.

A Love Story

2010-04-14T11:04:00.000-07:00

A LOVE STORY.
Today is Dody’s 91st birthday! Happy Birthday, Dody!
Dody and I attended Berea High School - she in the Class of 1937, and I was in the Class of 1936. While we were born only five months apart, we were on different sides of December 1.
Dody was my first girl friend! When we met, I was a Junior and she was a Sophomore - she was 15 and I was 16. We went “steady” for three years - her last three years of high school, and my last two years of high school, and first year at Baldwin Wallace College, (Dody subsequently graduated from BW). While we never verbalized it, we both presumed that we would eventually marry each other. It was not to be. My family moved from Berea to Ypsilanti in 1937. My Dad worked for the New York Central Railroad in Cleveland. The NYC consolidated it’s offices during the Great Depression, and my Dad was transferred to Detroit. We courted - long distance - both of us visiting each other - for a year.
Then, the old truism kicked in - “Absence makes the heart grow fonder ---- of somebody else”. Dody was in college in Berea. (She was born in Berea, and still lives there!), and I was working in Ann Arbor - about 150 miles away. Then, WWII came along, and that was “all she wrote”. My Mother was very fond of Dody, and I presume that my Dad was too. During a phone conversation a few years back, Dody told me that my Mother had given her a party on her 16th birthday - “ the only birthday party that I ever had!” I can’t believe that I don’t remember it. But, Dody’s memory has always been better than mine.
Fast Forward to 1976. Dody and I hadn’t been in touch with each other for nearly 40 years. When I received Tony’s annual Class of ‘36 Reunion invitation, it was emotional for me. Only then did I realize that time was zipping by, and I missed seeing Dody and my classmates. So, I accepted. I asked Marie if she would go with me. Her response, “Why do you want to go and see all those old people?” I took that as a “No!” Marie’s comment made me a little apprehensive. Would I recognize anyone if there were no name tags? How would I react to my friends that I hadn’t seen for so long? But, my experience was weird. I didn’t see late 50 year-old faces and bodies, I saw my classmates as I remembered how they looked when we graduated. (I received the prize for coming the greatest distance!) . I was very surprised how many of my classmates were still living in the Berea area.
Dody was there without her husband, (I never got to meet him). I was there without Marie, ( although she attended a few with me, later on - even though she didn’t enjoy them). I thought it might be awkward, but we both were glad to see each other. She asked me if I would take her home at the end of the evening. At first, I thought it was a request that I couldn’t refuse. Then, I thought that her husband might be waiting with a shotgun. I agreed, and all went well. My problem was, do I offer to kiss her goodnight - for old times sake? I decided that “discretion was the better part of valor”, especially since she didn’t give me any encouragement. I have made many Reunions since 1976, the most recent one was our 71st in 2007.Marie finally agreed to accompany me on a few, even though she said that she didn’t enjoy them. I enjoyed having her along. I hope to go back to our 75th (and probably our last) next year, if any of us is still alive. There were 81 in our graduating class, and now we are down to 12 survivors!
Dody and I have exchanged birthday, and Christmas cards, through the years. Her husband Hank, died a few years ago.(They had three sons, and Marie and I have five daughters.) We have kept in contact by phone. It is strange when two nonagenarians tell each other, spontaneously, “I love you”. She sent me a newspaper clipping after Hank died, telling of high school sweethearts, whose spouses had died, and they married each other. Dody casually mentioned that “this could be us!” I think she was delusional, as it is not to be. Can you picture two ninety year olds trying to take care of each other? Besides, a native Ohioan, would not consider moving to California.
I sent Dody a birthday card. She has been living in a
Care Center near Berea. I tried calling her today to wish her a Happy Birthday. The phone in her room rang numerous times, but she didn’t answer. So, I called Dody’s son Jim, to see what was going on. Jim, wife Judy, and their young -twin boys (Jim re-married a much younger woman!) live across from Dody’s house on Seminary Street. One of the boys answered and I asked him if I could talk to his mom or dad. He asked me my name and I told him. He tried repeating it, and finally said “call back”, and hung up!
As I was typing this, I was listening to the music on our closed -circuit TV channel. Playing was “As Time Goes By” - how fitting! RCL - 4/13/10.

CROCKER MUSEUM

2010-03-27T14:13:00.001-07:00

CROCKER ART MUSEUM
We had an interesting trip last Wednesday, (March 17). We left Quail Creek at 9:15 a.m. to visit the Crocker Art Museum in downtown Sacramento. We arrived at the Museum, at 10 a.m., after a 45 minute ride eastward along the I-80 corridor. There were five residents of Quail Creek along - four women and me. This 4/1 ratio of women to men, also holds true for our whole complex. Kelli, our Activities Director, and Tony, our driver, occupy the “pilot and co-pilot/navigator” seats.
A routine ride eastbound on I-80. We passed the local Arco gas station and gas was posted at $3.06/Gal. The April Futures for crude oil today is about $82/bbl. The weather is balmy - high cirrus clouds and sunny. The temperature is probably around 60. I am enjoying the Irish green hills en-route. Their color is only appropriate on this St. Patrick’s Day! In another couple months, as their natural watering ceases, they will become golden mounds - equally nice to behold.
We are passing a billboard touting Cache Creek, our local gambling casino. We are about due to pay the “Indian” resort a visit - to “pay our dues”. We are passing the new Kaiser medical complex, north of Vacaville. Each time I see the tan buildings, rising majestically from the surrounding flatland, I not only see first class construction, but I also see the pleasing silhouette of a skilled architect’s design.
Signs of the lousy economy, are the vacant lots of many auto dealers, who were forced to close. When you occasionally see an auto dealer-ship still in business, huge auto inventories abound. I can almost hear the new cars’ appeals - “Please, won’t you take me home?” - similar to the barking pleas from the residents of your local dog pound. On our left, we are passing the huge “Campers World” jammed full with recreational vehicles. These units, too, are anxious to find a good home. But, with the tanked economy, and high price of gasoline, their chances aren’t very good.
We are passing the large Pacific Gas and Electric sub station, off the freeway, to our left. This is an old facility. By “old,” I am talking decades - as long as I can remember. And I have a good memory! I started day dreaming, and wondered how many years before all the wiring would be underground, and one wouldn’t even know the unit had been there. But, before the next century begins, electricity will be developed locally by nuclear power plants, and it is anybody’s guess how it will be distributed.

The many fruit orchards, between Vacaville and Davis are patiently, and anxiously, waiting for the first day of spring - when they can burst forth in all of their colorful finery. The bees will be happy, too.
We are passing near the University of California campus at Davis. Recently, Mary and I spent two hours every Saturday morning, for six weeks, at the University’s “Mini-Medical School”, graduating last Saturday. Nearby is the nice looking “Mondavi Center for the Arts” complex. It opened about ten years ago - yet it seems like only yesterday! When Robert and Margrit Mondavi contributed ten million dollars towards the building, it was only proper to honor them, and their generous gift, by naming the facility after them. I have only admired the building from the freeway. I am looking forward to going inside one of these days.
I can see an orange Syar concrete -delivery truck on the overpass moving over the freeway. Sue’s husband, Tom, drives for Syar. This truck was probably loaded out of Syar’s Woodland plant, where Tom works out of their Fairfield plant. We are passing a load of hay. That’s an expensive cargo! It is probably worth $5,000! I always see trucks pulling trailers loaded with containers - both loaded ones, outbound from the Port of Oakland, or “empties”, heading back. I used to see a lot more of them, before the economy worsened. I wonder if Google’s complaint about China’s censorship of their internet transmissions, will become political, and reduce our exports/imports to and from China?
We are traveling on the Yolo Causeway - over a swampy area. Part of the lowland is wet, and has the pattern of a rice field. Usually, rice is grown further north in California. I notice a “Swift” truck traveling westbound in the opposite direction. This company’s trucks stand out because Tom used to drive for Swift, when Sue and he were living in Chico.
I can see the outline of the high-rise buildings in downtown Sacramento off to the left, as we exit the freeway. A sign welcomes us to Downtown Sacramento. Tony pulls up in front of the museum on the corner of Third and O Streets to let us off.
Marie and I visited this Crocker Museum 60 years ago, when I was stationed at Mather Field, during the Korean War. While I pride myself on my long-term memory, I can’t recall any of the details in the museum. Two of our group were using their power chairs. So, I looked for a ramp to enter and leave the museum, but I didn’t see one. All I saw was about 25 or 30 steps - leading from our ground level to the massive front door of the Crocker family’s former mansion. The Crocker family was prominent during the 1800’s.The Museum is 120 years old, and originally, it was the Crocker family’s home. I was wondering how the Museum got away with not complying with the ADA regulations? About that time, a lady met us (Kelli apparently had called the lady, from her cell phone, for directions), and directed us into the museum. She took us in, through the front-delivery entrance on the ground level - left side. Once inside, we used the elevator to go up to the first floor -entry way, where we paid our $4.00 admission fees.
It is hard for me to believe such wealth as the Crockers had. According to Wikipedia, the collection of the Crockers totaled over 14,000 pieces, and features California art from the Gold Rush days until today. The various items are first quality, and exceptional. I can’t remember seeing any finer exhibit - even the White House’s presidential china collection
A lot of beautiful hardwoods were used in constructing the Victorian style - house. I’ve never seen a more attractive wooden staircase, winding up between the first and second floors. (sliding down that long-winding banister would be a thrill!) The flooring is also all hardwood. When it squeaks in a few places, as you are walking, you know that it is old!
To see the huge ball room was overwhelming, and worth the trip alone. I was very interested in the three plaster pieces of figures. I have never seen any art of this type. There was a long-high ceiling- room, which was an art gallery. I don’t know how many paintings were hanging on the four walls. (I would hate to take inventory and catalog them all.) The paintings were almost touching frame to frame - floor to ceiling. I can’t imagine how much the Crocker family invested in these paintings, let alone the time to find, purchase and hang them. In all these paintings, I didn’t see a print of “The Lovers”, by Pablo Picasso! I thought that my apartment was well “pictured“, but nothing like this art gallery.

A modern addition to the museum is being constructed next door, and will be tied in with the present mansion portion, to triple the size of the museum. The architects concept started in 2002, and the building is scheduled to open on 10/10/10! I hope we will have another outing to see the interior of this new portion. I am sure that the ambience will be much different than the mansion portion of the museum.
With no handicap ramp, we had to leave the museum through the basement exit. This exit was to the left of where we entered - about an hour and a half before. We walked through the museum’s research library. I was surprised that no one was looking through the stacks of material. As I was about to go out the door, I noticed, to my left, a lady employee sitting at a desk. She seemed “bored”. I said, “I guess you are waiting for customers”? She gave me a fishy-eyed look, and beckoned me to come over to her desk. Which I did. She never spoke a word. She pointed to the monitor on her desk. I looked and saw eight small screens, showing scenes from the various security cameras. I left, and neither of us spoke.(?) Besides this electronic surveillance, there were security personnel walking through the various exhibit areas. Tony loads us aboard, and at 11: 30, we leave for Fairfield.
The museum is close to the Highway 50 freeway, so it is an easy access and exit. We cross the Sacramento River, and are back in Yolo County. I can see four green mounds in the wetlands below the Yolo Causeway. Now, there is a high overcast, as I see a few ducks flying by - in formation. On our right are four box cars parked on a siding. A sign of our degenerate society, is the massive graffiti painted on the idle cars.
Tony leaves I-80 at Davis, and we stop at the Sudwerk - Micro Brewery for lunch. It is a nice place to eat. We have been here before.
We are off once again at 1:25. The weather has changed. Now, there is high-filtered sun. I don’t know what is going on , but we pass a solo lady driver - out of her car on the right shoulder, with FOUR Highway patrol cars parked in front, and behind her car! We travel a few miles west and two more California Highway cars are parked on the side of the highway! We are between the Vacaville and Dixon exits, and a Highway Patrol car passes us and pulls over to the right siding to join another patrol car parked there. I am wondering what is going on? Apparently, all of the Golden Gate Division is on duty today, and they are all in this locale!

The mustard seed is still blooming, but apparently all of the California poppies have left us. At least I haven’t seen any on this trip. We are passing the old Nut Tree Restaurant area. It sure brings back many pleasant memories of meeting people there for lunch - Maggie and Steve Gibbens; Pat and Mac MacDonald; Margot and Woody Duryea; Alta and Mickey Harrigan; Marie’s sister Merle and husband Bob, and many others I can’t recall. Of course, our family went there many times - always to their “Pumpkin Patch” during the Halloween season. We always enjoyed our visits during their decorative Christmas season.
When my sister Jeanne, and husband Bob, visited us, they always wanted to make the “Nut Tree run.” Usually, they came out from Michigan in their Pace Arrow motor home. It was a beauty, but the 28 foot monster looked a little strange, parked on the street, in front of our house on Camino Alto, in Vallejo. I think that Jeanne drove it only once - when she spelled Bob on one of their cross-country jaunts. Going around a tight curve in the mountains she came too close to the cliff on right side of the road, and “branded” the side of their motor home! Marie and I were always impressed with the cost for them to fill their 50 gallon gas tank. I think it was $50! Today, that would be more like $150! I asked Bob what kind of mileage he got. He said, on the straight and level, he averaged about 6 mpg. He volunteered that my question was the first one that people asked him. Those were the good old days!
We arrived back at Quail Creek at 2:00, after a very nice day.

RCL - 3/26/10.

"ONCE UPON A MATTRESS"

2010-03-21T12:44:00.000-07:00

“ONCE UPON A MATTRESS”
I never thought that I would ever attend a theatrical play with a
9:00 a.m. start time. Last Friday morning it happened. I saw “Once Upon a Mattress” at our local Fairfield High School. I suspect that the unusual start time was to accommodate a few of us Seniors, along with about 100 youngsters, who are students at local elementary schools - kindergarten through the third grade.
There were only five of us from Quail Creek - three with power chairs, and two of us ambulatory. Some ate box - breakfasts en-route to the high school. I decided to go to the dining room when the doors opened
at 8. I was able to have a “wiki-wiki” breakfast before the bus left at 8:30.
The play was held in the drama class auditorium - a small and intimate room, with folding metal chairs. There must have been over 100 kids there. It was bedlam - with all of their energy and enthusiasm at full throttle. (Why does such energy have to be “wasted” on the very young?) I was having difficulty picturing me coping with such noise for over two hours. But, once the curtain went up, there wasn’t a peep out of any of them. I was amazed how attentive they were. Their powers of concentration were probably better than mine. They showed intense interest.
The play originally opened over 50 years ago, at an off-Broadway theatre in New York. The music for the comedy was written by Mary Rodgers. The play was a take-off, based on “The Princess and the Pea” by Hans Christian Andersen. Carol Burnett made her debut in this play. The play is popular with high school drama programs.
The high school players did a great job. The play was filled with high energy action. We didn’t receive a program, but I would guess that there were at least 30 actresses and actors! A personable young man greeted us at the school. He told me that he made the stage settings and the props. He did a great job. In talking with him, I asked him where he got his “know how”. He told me that his dad was a contractor, and he worked for him. He told me he was a senior. I asked him what he would like to major in and he said “History”, which was interesting to me. Then, he went on to say that he was going to enlist in the Marines, after he graduates in June. He was quite an impressive young man! So, I tried pitching the military academies. But, he wasn’t interested. He wants to be a Marine.
After the performance, the whole cast filled the stage. Their drama instructor stood in front of them, and asked the kids if they had any questions of the cast? I only heard the first two questions, as we had to leave. But, they were very good ones. Their questions showed that the “askers” had really paid attention during the play. I only wish that I could have heard the rest of their questions, and the answers by the cast. It was really a great experience for me to be sitting so close to all of the action. I really enjoyed the play. It was a great learning experience for me!

RCL - 3/21/10.

"MEN'S BODY WASHES"

2010-03-15T10:08:00.000-07:00

MEN’S BODY WASHES
Melanie Wells interesting article, (“The Battle of the Men’s Body Washes”), in Friday’s Wall street Journal (March 12,2010), caught my eye. So, while reading it, a long-ago memory crowded out my concentration on what I was reading.
Melanie’s piece was about men’s use of body washes in the shower. (I am an Ivory bar user). She talked about fragrances. It reminded me of an experience I had about 30 years ago in Phoenix. I was there on business, as the Auditor for California and Hawaiian Sugar Company. I was having a late dinner in the Double Tree Inn, where I was staying. They were about to close, and I was the only customer.
My waitress was very friendly and talkative. While taking my order, I remember her saying, “You really smell good!” I thanked her, and gave my “Old Spice” the credit. When I had finished eating, she asked me about having a dessert. I told her that “I realize that Hot Fudge Sundaes aren’t on the menu, but could you make one for me? She said, “Sure”. After she returned with her great work of art, I said, “Thank you very much. I appreciate your effort.” Her reply, “What are friends for?” Of course, my tip reflected our new “friendship”.
RCL - 3/15/10,

BERKELEY

2010-03-15T09:27:00.000-07:00

BERKELEY
Our “Outing” on February 17, was to visit the University of California, Berkeley Art Museum & Pacific Film Archive.
We left Quail Creek at 10:20 this morning. It is a nice day, even though a little breezy. We are passing through the Paradise Valley Country Club. What a pretty golf course. It is certainly well maintained. It is very inviting to stop and play golf. Oh, that I was still in my golfing years. Those years go back to 1934, when I started caddying at Columbia Hills Country Club (not too far from Cleveland).
I can see a vapor trail from a jet probably 50,000 feet high. I can see the white trail, but not the plane. What a thrill to be flying in that cockpit. I wish that I was there. Gas at Arco is posted at $2.70. The spot price for crude oil today, is around $78/bbl. The traffic on I-80 is moderate, and flowing smoothly, in both the East and West directions. It is hard to believe that this highway was jammed with commuters only a few hours ago. It is a wonder that there aren’t more traffic accidents than there are! Marriott did a good job taking over the Holiday Inn in Fairfield, rehabbing it, and re-naming it the Courtyard. It is an attractive hotel, inviting motorists to stop by and stay with them. There are a lot of white-flowering trees in the area. I have asked “locals” about their type, and they aren’t any better a horticulturist, than I am. If this area was in the Southeast, I would guess them to be dogwood trees,. But here, I assume that they are some type of non-bearing fruit trees.
We are passing a driver of a rusty brown and black van who is “texting.” At least he has his hands on the steering wheel, and is driving slowly. Passing some sheep and black cattle, next to each other, taking advantage of the plush green grazing area. They make a nice contrast.
We are approaching the Vallejo area. From on top of the Hunter Hill, I can still see Mt. Tam about 30 miles away - even though it is hazy. The “Rest Stop” off to our right has been closed for a long time. They are rehabbing it. I can’t figure out why it is taking so long. Perhaps they are waiting for some “Stimulus” money to complete it. The “stop” is usually filled with parked trucks. I wonder what the drivers are doing since the closure? I am sure that they have worked it out by now.
Chevron, along the freeway, is posting gas at $3.00. To get that price, they have a “captive audience” I guess. As we pass over the Carquinez Straight, I can see the “Golden Bear” moored at the dock of the Maritime Academy - now part of the University of California system. I can see a complex of greenhouses, on the right below the freeway, in El Cerrito. They have been there for as long as I can remember - over 60 years! I would think that this commercial property is too valuable to be used for this purpose. But, who am I to judge? Our “school bus” passed this same way when I was going to the University of California in Berkeley, after the war, on the G.I. Bill. We lived in a low-rent housing complex in Richmond. Theses same buildings housed the workers at the Kaiser Shipyard in Richmond. They fabricated “Liberty” ships during WWII.
Golden Gate Fields raceway (horses), is off to our right. Beyond it I can see the Golden Gate Bridge and to it’s left, the San Francisco skyline, even with the hazy visibility. Traffic on the East Shore freeway is bogging down to a crawl now, as more cars San Francisco and Oakland bound, feed into our highway. The tide is “low”. There used to be a strong stench at low tide, but now the Bay holds much cleaner water. I am not sure how this was brought about.
Tony exit’s the freeway at University Avenue, and we head into Berkeley. I have many happy memories of when our family came into Berkeley, from Vallejo, to eat at Spengers or Brennans on Fourth street, or to attend summer -theatre plays at Berkeley’s auditorium,
I miss the sights and foods of Berkeley. I have a nostalgic feeling every time I am here. Besides going to Cal for nearly two years, I audited curses on “Successful Aging”, at Cal, for about 15 years. Of course, I attended many of Cal’s football and basketball games when I was a student. I miss seeing all the Volvos parked, and driving around Berkeley. I miss seeing the energy and enthusiasm of the young -eager students hustling back and forth to classes. I miss seeing many older people - some, probably retired from the University. I miss seeing all the bicycles - many in motion, and even more parked.
I miss seeing the dark brown -colored shingled- housing in Berkeley. Steve and Maggie Gibbens lived in the upstairs apartment of one of these, when their oldest daughter, Moire, was born. Later on, our family shared many happy occasions with the Gibbens family, when they lived on Spruce and on Los Angeles Streets. I never tire of being in Berkeley. Of course this high quality of living can be found in most College/University cities.
Now, we are riding along College Avenue, where there are many Sorority and Fraternity houses. College Avenue reminds me of how Telegraph Avenue looked before the “hippies” took it over, and ruined it, many years ago. There are many small-quaint private homes along College Avenue, plus large homes and apartment complexes. (I can’t help but wonder where everyone parks their car(s)?
Because of Berkeley’s growth, they had to go to one -way streets. The electric lift is on the right side of the bus. Consequently, Tony couldn’t use the Durant Avenue entrance to the museum, and had to swing back around to off-load us on Bancroft Way. We arrive at the Berkeley Museum at 11:25.
Only about half of the museum was open, as they were setting up a new exhibit. I spent most of my time browsing through the works of James Castle. I had never heard of him, and I didn’t appreciate his works while viewing them. But, after reading about him in the Museum’s BAM/PFA brochure, I have more respect for his art. James Castle was born in 1899 (a year before my Dad), and died in 1977. (My Dad died in 1973 - a month to the day - after President Kennedy was assassinated!). Castle was born in Idaho, and had no formal training. He was born deaf. Except for the five years he attended the Idaho School for the Deaf and Blind, he lived with his immediate family. He did not learn to read, write, speak, sign or lip- read. Yet, he was a gifted draftsman, and painter. I spent most of my time at the museum observing his paper constructions.
We had lunch at the Museum’s café. Then, we left at 2:10, and headed back to Fairfield. We passed Sather Gate as we turned from Telegraph onto Bancroft. Chevron gas was $2.86.Then, a left on Shattuck to Ashby. Right on to Ashby, heading west to the I-80 freeway. We passed the South Berkeley Senior Center. Gas at 76 is $2.94. It’s strange how the price varies.
Once again we are back on I-80 heading East towards Fairfield. It seems good not to see any graffiti on the sound-wall barriers, along the freeway, anymore. A container ship must be off-loading at the Port of Oakland, because we are passing trucks loaded with shipping containers. Now, on our right, we are passing a cemetery - a pet cemetery!
I always look down from the bridge, as we pass above Crockett, to see if a ship is off-loading raw sugar at the C& H Sugar Refinery. None in today. We are passing an older blond driving a red Mercedes convertible. Chalk one up for the Seniors! I notice a Syar concrete delivery truck. I am wondering if Tom is the driver?
It is hazy visibility as we approach Fairfield. I noticed that Campers’ World near the truck-weigh station has closed. (Yesterday, as Mary and I were returning from Davis, I noticed a Campers World. Mary said that they relocated it from Cordelia.) There were quite a few trucks waiting in the Weigh Station to be inspected. There are quite a few buildings along the freeway with “Available for Leasing” signs posted. A good reminder of the sour economic times.
Tony pulls into Quail Creek at 3:10. It was a very nice day.
RCL 3/14/10.

WASP'S

2010-03-07T00:24:00.000-08:00

WASP’S
There was an interesting article in today’s Wall Street Journal. It described the service of the Women Airforce Service Pilots (WASP) who served during World War II. The 1302 female civilians flew 78 different types of military planes over 60 million miles. They were not permitted to fly in combat. They ferried the aircraft from factories, where they were built, to various U.S. air bases, (most of the military -male pilots were overseas.) The women were denied military status, and considered civilians.
The WASP survivors will gather, for the last time, at the U.S. Capitol on March 10. There, they will be honored with the recognition that they never received. They will receive Congressional Gold Medals. Their patriotism, and flying skills, make them role models, and they will inspire future generations of women aviators. Having been a military pilot, myself , during both WWII and the Korean wars, I can really relate to their great achievements, and their unselfish contributions to the War effort.
While reading the article, a memory of a few of them, interrupted my concentration. I was stationed at Cut Bank, Montana in 1942. We had received our new B-17, prior to flying it overseas. I was a bombardier in the Second Bomb Group. We were test flying our new plane during our operational training. We were scheduled to fly one day, so I was on the flight line. I noticed a few women coming out of Operations. I particularly noticed one of the pilots because she was even shorter than I was. She was walking toward some Bell P-39’ s (Airacobras).
I greeted her as she walked by. I asked her where they were headed and she said Fairbanks. (They had stopped at our Cut Bank base to refuel and spend the night. Cut Bank is only 70 miles south of Lethbridge, Alberta.) Then, she said that the Russian pilots would meet them in Fairbanks and take delivery of the Lend-Lease planes. Then, the Russians would fly the planes back across the Bering Straight into Russia. I watched her as she walked toward the parked P-39’s. The seat-pack of her parachute was bouncing off her rear end as she walked. I couldn’t believe that she could fly that high performing fighter plane. I watched her do the pre-flight inspection, and then she climbed aboard.
She started the engine and let it warm up and then taxied out to the runway. After running up the engine to check it’s performance, she taxied on to the run way and took off. To my amazement, she did a slow roll shortly after leaving the ground. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing! I had never heard of such a stunt, let alone see it. I often wished, afterwards, that I somehow would see her someplace, again, to ask her about her stunt after taking off. But, no such luck. I wish that there was a way that I could e-mail the group in Washington, to see if any of them was familiar with my story.
RCL - 3/7/10.

REUNIONS

2010-03-06T19:55:00.000-08:00

Dear John: Fairfield
March 6, 2010.
After seeing your pictures of our Berea High School, Class of 1936, 25th reunion, I have been thinking a lot about you, and the rest of our classmates.
I was working in Hawaii, at the time of our 25th Reunion in 1961 (two years after Statehood!). The first Reunion that I attended, was our 40th in 1976. Marie wasn’t interested in going with me. She even questioned why I wanted to see “all those old people?” I never understood her remark.
While I was a little apprehensive to see everyone again after 40 years, it was like a time warp. It was strange, I didn’t see “old” people, I saw faces that looked the same to me as they did in 1936. I didn’t have to even read their nametags! It was a strange experience.
Do you remember the year of our first class reunion?
Marie never related to her high school reunions (Class of 1941), even though they were only a four hour drive away in Tulare. Yet, she was quite “close” to a few of her classmates. I thought that this was strange. But, we did go to her 40th Reunion.
Well, John, 2011 will mark the 75th year since we received our diplomas. I hope that a few of we survivors will be able to celebrate the occasion, by getting together to toast the class. I guess this wish comes under the category of “long range planning.”
Hang in there! Love, Ray.

How to Stay Young

2010-03-01T21:20:00.000-08:00

Here is some more philosophy to help you cope with your life. It comes from the Sunday Bulletin of Our lady of Mt. Carmel Church.
HOW TO STAY YOUNG.
Throw out non-essential numbers - including your age.
- Enjoy the simple things.
- Keep learning. Follow your hobby interests. “An idle mind is the devil’s workshop.”
- Surround yourself with what you love--- family, cheerful friends, pets - (difficult for us), keepsakes, music, art, plants.
- Eat a healthy diet with plenty of fresh vegetables, fruits and whole grains.
- Stay physically active. Walk at least a half hour a day, and/or take up a sport you enjoy. (Note: this is not possible for most of us, but try and do what you can.)
- Laugh often.
- Forgive always.
- Take trips - but not guilt trips.
- Endure with faith the sad things that come into your life. Cry, grieve, and move on. But, do not let grief to possess you.
- Live fully in the present, neither looking back in anger, nor forward in fear.
- Pray daily. Go to church regularly. Be of service to the ill, the poor, and the needy. (Note: In our case, some of these goals may not be feasible. But, you get the idea.)
- Tell the people you love, that you love them - at every opportunity.
- Author Unknown. RCL - 3/1/10.

Traveling Memories

2010-02-21T22:58:00.001-08:00

TRAVELING MEMORIES.
Dear Marcia and John: Valentine’s Day - 2010.
I really enjoyed spending the afternoon with you. You are always good company. You are congenial, friendly, upbeat and always interested in the other guy. You both are good listeners. Who wouldn’t enjoy this atmosphere?
Marcia, I read “What Makes a Marriage Last?” in your magazine. It was very interesting to me, as you guessed that it might be. What made it so fascinating is that no two couples repeated exactly the same reasons as to how they met, and how they inter-related with each other, to preserve their marriages.
I also reflected on your vast traveling experience. Besides all the new and interesting experiences, I have found another reason, which is not so obvious, for enjoying my travels. When I see a picture, or description of a place, in the paper, or on TV - that I have visited, it is quite a thrill to tell myself that I have been there, or have seen it. So you get a lot of mileage from your travel experiences. You enjoy them initially, and then reflect on those experiences when ever prompted by later publicity - besides the normal memories.
This thought came to mind while I was watching “60 Minutes” this evening. One of the segments was on Davos, Switzerland - nestled in the rugged Alps. Marie and I were fortunate to have toured parts of Germany, Italy, France, Switzerland and Austria on a Tour in 1993. We spent one night in snowy Davos. The town has only about 10,000 people, and is a about a mile high - a little short of the Lake Tahoe Basin and Yosemite Valley, so you have had a taste of a similar environment. I knew then, that it was a winter - resort town, and it was where the World Economic Conference was held every year. But, I didn’t realize the clout that the meeting had - as a neutral site for various individuals, from various countries, all over the world, to discuss their differences.
Love,
Uncle Ray.

THE POSITIVE SIDE OF LIFE

2010-02-20T14:12:00.000-08:00

THE POSITIVE SIDE OF LIFE.
Ella Appleton submitted the following through our “Suggestion” system. Kelli and I thought it was very good, and we should circulate it to the Residents. It also ties in to last Thursday’s “Mindworks” class, where we discussed being “Positive”.
Living on earth is expensive, but it does include a free trip around the sun every year!
Birthdays are good for you . The more you have, the longer you live.
Happiness comes through doors you didn’t know you left open.
How long a minute is, depends on what side of the bathroom door you are on.
Most of us go to our grave with our music inside of us.
If Walmart is lowering prices every day, how come they are never “free“?
Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.
A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour.
Some mistakes are too much fun to only make once!
----Author unknown.

RCL
2/20/10.

MOONSHINE

2010-02-15T20:28:00.000-08:00

MOONSHINE
I read - with much interest- a book review in the Wall Street Journal this morning. Eddie Dean reviewed Max Watman’s recent book, “Chasing the Dog” - about the bootleggers making “moonshine” (whiskey), during the Great Depression. Eddie’s writing reminded me of a fellow that I met at Gunter Field, Alabama, when we were Privates in the Army air Corps. Our exchange took place in 1941 - months before “Pearl Harbor”.
We lived together in the same Barrack. I can’t remember his name, even though I take pride in my “long term” memory. But, I do remember asking him where he was from? With his strong drawl, I knew that it was below the Mason-Dixon Line. He said , “North Carolina”. Then, I asked him about his work in civilian life? He told me that he was a “Bootlegger”. He told me that there were so many bootleggers with stills in the hills, that they had to wear badges to keep from selling the booze to each other!
Our brain is a very interesting and fascinating organ. When we are of “sound mind”, we don’t appreciate how intricate, and marvelous it really is. And yet, when we lose more than half of the brain cells in our frontal cortex, (as Marie has), and our brain fails simple tests, it is too late to understand our loss.
I hadn’t thought of my fellow airman during the past 69 years, until now. Except for not remembering his name, I remember our conversation as if it were just yesterday. The same thing with the term “bootlegger”. I thought that this archaic “trade” was extinct. But, apparently, it is still alive and well.
Ray L’Amoreaux
February 15, 2010.

THIS IS A TEST!

2010-02-13T21:53:00.000-08:00

THIS IS A TEST!
I had an interesting experience at dinner tonight! A lady came up to me, and thanked me for my Valentine. She went on to say that I was very thoughtful. But, I didn’t send her one! How would you respond? - or would you? Note:- She is of sound mind.
Without thinking, I responded “You’re welcome!” This is the response, drummed into me when I was young. Then, I remembered that I hadn’t sent her one. Another thing that I remember being taught, is “Let sleeping dogs lie”. This is the way I left it .
I am interested in how you would have handled it? In the big picture, this is small stuff. But, I am curious. Thanks for your ideas.
RCL - 2/13/10.
!

KISS AND TELL

2010-02-12T14:35:00.000-08:00

Dear Elizabeth: Fairfield, California
February 9, 2010
I enjoyed reading your article in today’s Wall Street Journal ( “Happy Couples Kiss and Tell”.) You write very interestingly, and very well. Your headline in the Journal, caught my eye, because Marie and I have been married for 65 years. (She is 86 and I am 91). I received my pilot wings on the morning of December 23, 1944 and we were married that afternoon, in Douglas, Arizona. Prior to this, we hadn’t seen each other for five months. We were both far from home. Only one family member was there, and that was Marie’s Mother. That was a great foundation to start our life together.
People have asked us many times, especially on our Anniversaries: “ To what have you attributed your long life together?” I usually answer, as did your Dad, “I have no idea!” This seems like a strange response, when our culture is supposed to have a formula for everything. I don’t recall a time when even a separation was mentioned. Perhaps she entertained the thought, but I have no memory of it.
For me, the 65 years have flown by, and here we are. I wasn’t conscious of “working at it” - to protect, and preserve, our wedding vows. I am sure a lot of our congeniality was pure -dumb luck. Too, we are both spiritual. I was raised as a Catholic. Marie was raised in the Methodist faith. She converted to Catholicism about ten years after we were married. I am sure that this framework made a stronger bond between us. Also, we have five daughters. When they were growing up , we were too busy to argue and fight. I think we took our parental duties seriously. Disrupting their lives would be unthinkable. Too, we are both stubborn. I am sure that this attribute provided some of the glue. While my parents were married only 46 years, before my Dad died at 63, they were really a great example of “love” for me. I never remember either of them saying a hurtful thing to each other. While Marie’s Dad died at 57, (she was only 14!), I think that her relationship with her parents was similar to mine.
I am reading “Don’t Sweat The Small Stuff”. by Richard Carlson. At my old age, I figure that it still isn’t too late to get life right. This “treasure” should be required reading for the “bride’ and “groom” in all pre-nuptial plans. Dr. Carlson says it all, when he writes “Love is it’s own reward” and “Don’t sweat the Small Stuff!”
It seems kind of trite to say that it was a “give and take” game plan. But, the major decisions seemed to work out that way.
The first time was when we were snowed in at Gallup, New Mexico in 1944 - just after I was separated from the Air Corps. We were headed back to Michigan from California. (Marie was a native). My parents lived in Ypsilanti, and I wanted to enter the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. My “bride” was cold, and crying. She wanted to return to California. I promised that the weather would improve, and she agreed to continue.
A year and a half later, Southeastern Michigan had a snow storm. She said, “Ray, you are going to have to choose between Michigan, or me. I’m going back to California!” While I wanted to continue on at the U of M., I agreed to return with her.
The next time we had a large impasse, was in 1957 - some ten years later. I was interviewed for an industrial engineering job in Hawaii, and was offered it. I was excited and wanted to accept it. But, Marie wasn’t as excited as I was. She said that she didn’t want to move our three young daughters. I was discouraged. I explained to her that it would be a great new experience. If I didn’t accept the job, I would be “what ifing” for the rest of my life. She finally agreed to go.
After living four and a half years on Kauai, we returned to the mainland on vacation. I was offered a job, and made the mistake of telling Marie about it. Immediately, she said “Take it!”. So, I did, even though I’d rather have stayed on Kauai. She and the girls remained in California, while I went back to Hawaii, gave my “Notice”, put the house up for sale and packed all of our belongings for shipment back to California.
Marie owes me one!
Today, we are separated - but not by choice. Marie is in a nearby Health Center, diagnosed with Alzheimer dementia. I look forward to visiting her daily, and she seems glad to see me. Recently, I have reflected back on my marriage vow. “------for better or worse”. At the time I uttered them, I really didn’t analyze the full impact of what I was saying. I was only 26, and didn’t grasp their significance. And the “------till death do us part” was unthinkable. Now, we are patiently coping with this phase.
Well, Elizabeth, I just thought you would like to know about a few bumps in the road of our long marriage.
Good luck in your interesting -writing career.
Aloha,
Ray L’Amoreaux.

Classic Article

2010-02-06T19:59:00.000-08:00

CLASSIC ARTICLE
(My daughter Mary forwarded me an e-mail, from her sister-in-law Pat, about a father and his driving.)
What a great story, written by Michael Gartner. I wish that I could write as well. I think that his trick is to use a lot of quotes. It makes the writing more friendly. I could relate to some of his tale. Life was much simpler back in the !920’s and 30’s. I had some difficulty reading it, with my “blurred” eyes. I can’t explain my emotion, except for the tender memories it recalled for me.
My Dad drove, but we didn’t own a car - until 1930. (My Dad was 40 and I was 11). My Dad bought a four door - 1928 Chrysler (second hand). This was at the beginning of the Great Depression, and not too many people owned cars. He bought the car only because we were moving from Hillsdale, Michigan to Olmsted Falls, Ohio. My Dad was transferred from Hillsdale to Cleveland, by the New York Central Railroad. They were consolidating their office operations. I never thought to ask him who taught him to drive, and in what make of car. All cars had manual transmissions back then. (Some girlfriends had bruised knees from their boyfriends constantly shifting gears!)
I remember standing on the floor, between the back and front seats, (no seat-belt law back then), when my Dad was teaching my Mother to drive. The setting was the race track at the fair grounds, in Hillsdale. I was startled, when she came around the turn, leading to the finish line in front of the grandstand, and ploughed into the white- wooden - infield fence. I am surprised that my Dad didn’t flunk her.
I rode with her driving, only once. That was enough! In Olmsted Falls we had a long driveway next to the house, leading from the street to a separate garage at the rear of the house. I don’t think that my Dad taught her how to back up. She offered to drive me to school one day. I foolishly accepted. It was one wild ride! She backed out of the driveway, slowly weaving along. She backed across the street, running in front of our house. I didn’t understand why she didn’t use the brake to stop, after she had backed across the street. The next thing that I knew, she hit a concrete stanchion supporting a large link-chain fence bordering the City Park. Well, I guess that is one way to stop a car. It sure saves on brake wear! The experience bothered me more than it did her. She put the shifting handle in first gear and we were off. She never got out of the car to see if there was any damage to the car or the “fence”. That wasn’t bad enough. We crossed (bounced) over the main line railroad tracks in downtown Olmsted Falls. Then, she started heading for the cars parked parallel in front of the stores, barely missing them. There must not have been any police around. It was a small town. About this time, I started praying the “Our Father”. When she let me out at school, I never was so glad to leave a car, as I was then. Fortunately, she didn’t offer to pick me up after school.
In 1932, we moved from Olmsted Falls to Berea - about five miles closer to Cleveland. My Dad was good hearted and trusting. Sometimes, if I needed the car, he would let me use it to drive to school. The only catch was that I had to drive him to and from the depot, for his commute on the NYC “Plug” from Berea into the Cleveland Terminal. “Sticking accelerators” on Toyotas are not a new problem. I experienced the very same problem on that Chrysler! I drove the car home one noon for lunch. I was racing a friend in a 25 MPH zone. The accelerator stuck. And I was probably going 40. I didn’t panic, but I didn’t know what to do. I was fast approaching cars in front of me. The only thing that I could think of was to take to the sidewalk. The car jumped the curb, and fortunately, I didn’t hit a tree. As I was rolling down the sidewalk (luckily, no one was walking there.) My friend was with me, riding in the front seat. I hollered to him to pull up the accelerator, which he did. As soon, as the car slowed down, I drove it back onto the street. While I learned a great lesson, it very well could have been my last one! I often wonder, when actuaries figure out life expectancies at birth, if they crank in miscues by stupid youth such as me?
A year later, my Dad bought his first new car. It was a shiny-black Chevrolet two-door. I was with my Mom and Dad when they bought it in Berea.( I used to be able to recall the name of the dealer, but no longer.). As I remember, the car cost $630. My Mother wanted him to get a four door (I had three siblings). Dad said, “Bessie, that means two more doors to rattle”. In reality, he was frugal! A four door cost $100 more!
Ray L’Amoreaux
February 5, 2010.

NAPA VALLEY

2010-02-02T19:29:00.000-08:00

NAPA VALLEY
Today is Wednesday, January 27th. We are headed to the Napa Valley on our weekly “Outing” from Quail creek. Tony pulls out at 10:08. Also on the trip is Kelli, and six residents. I was just there with Anne last Saturday, I have been in that Valley many, many times and I never tire of the scenic beauty. It is better weather today - and the highways aren’t too crowded. The potential tourists are snowbound, I guess.
The Paradise Valley area is a quiet, peaceful and safe place to walk, jog or walk your dog. The Arco gas station is posting gas at $2.86 a gallon - Shell is listed at $3.00, down a bit from the last time that I checked. . The Spot price for crude oil is about $75 a barrel.
After all of our rain the past few weeks, we have reached a seasonal normal (after three seasons of drought!) The hills are really green. Ireland’s”40 shades of green” do not have anything on these hills and valleys! It is a beautiful day. Traffic in both directions on I-80 is moderate. We are passing the Mini U Storage on our right, where I still have some bins stored, after our move from Vallejo to Fairfield, almost two years ago! Can you appreciate how much one can collect, and save, during our 46 years living in Vallejo? I have to get on the ball, and start sorting that stuff, and eliminate my $59 monthly charge!
It’s interesting what a few miles can make. As we ride through Jamison Canyon,(Highway 12), we are socked in .The fog is not only hugging the hills, but it is down on the deck, too. The oncoming cars have their lights on. We pass a roadside sign, “Olive Trees for Sale”. The fog doesn’t slow down the grazing cattle who are having breakfast along the nearby pastures. Standing water along the side of the highway - evidence of recent rains and saturated earth. It’s 45 degrees now. Hard to visualize that in six months the temp along here will be 100 degrees!
There are young vineyards around here everywhere. It is strange when you see the homes right in the middle of the fields of grapes. What happened to the rule of supply and demand? It seems like the more new vineyards I see, the higher the price of the final crushing’s. I guess the economists call it “inelastic demand.” Or, in other words, increased sales of wine with corresponding higher wine prices.
I see a large field on the right filled with communication dishes - aimed skyward - at satellites parked overhead. The lowlands of this Southern - Napa Valley area has turned into “wetlands” from all the rainfall of late. The egrets and herons like this environment. I can see some egrets perched above the standing water on their long legs. They are really a majestic bird. We see a lot of waterfowl around here, as we are right on the North - South - Pacific Flyway.
We are on the southern end of Highway 29 headed north up the Napa Valley. It is still foggy. (The grapes must thrive in this condition.). There are solid vineyards for as far as I can see., on both sides of the highway. We pass the Vintage 1870 shopping complex. After passing the Oakville Grocery, the winery crushing/bottling/storage facilities come into view. On my right, we are passing the following Vineyards - relatively close together.
The first winery is Nickel and Nickel, next Sequoia Grove; Cakebread; then St. Supery and Peju Province, prior to reaching Rutherford. Then, Beaulieu; Franciscan; and V. Sattui wineries - between Rutherford and St. Helena - near Zinfandel Lane. The northbound Napa Valley Wine train tracks are running along our right side. V. Sattui is our destination. The sun is out and it turned out to be a very nice day. We arrive at 10:55.
This V. Sattui winery has been family owned and operated since 1885. They sell their award winning wines only directly through the stone winery building, mail order or internet. The winery has no outside distribution. We browsed around inside their large stone -winery building. It included a gift shop; a wine tasting area; many shelves of different types and varieties of bottled wines; along with a gourmet cheese shop and deli.
A couple of our group did some wine tasting ($5 for up to five different regular wines, and $10 for the same sampling of premium wines. I don’t know the distinction between “regular” and “premium”. I am sure that the difference in prices would give me a clue!) I can remember 50 years ago when wine tasting was free! Of course, there weren’t many wineries back then. I can only recall Beringer, Charles Krug, Christian Brothers, and Robert Mondavi labels. I was going to buy a bottle of red wine - knowing it would not be priced as a “Two-Buck Chuck”. I was debating between buying a merlot or a pinot noir. I took out my $5, and asked to taste a Napa Valley Merlot. The taster/tender told me that it wasn’t available for tasting. I thought it was a little strange. I don’t expect to go in a Baskin- Robins and ask to taste a Jamocha Almond Fudge, and get a similar response. So. I put my $5 back in my pocket and walked away. I was telling my tale of woe to Greg, my son-in-law, and he explained why they have such a policy. While I understand that it is a business decision not to offer a taste of any variety - and why - at the same time, they didn’t sell me a bottle of $25 wine either.
We ordered our lunch at the Deli. I had asked the wine/taster/tender what the Deli had good for lunch. He said that he liked their Tai Noodles. I was going to order that but didn’t feel like eating that much. Settled for cream of cauliflower soup instead. They were on the number system for service, to give you an idea how busy they were - even in January. We took our bags of lunches to the picnic tables out on their spacious grounds.(no dining area inside the building). We were all seated, beneath a huge oak tree hovering over us. That dark-old-tree must have been 150 years old! We have had a lot of trees coming down - taking power lines with them - during our rains. I wanted to see if they were in the moment, and paying attention to their surroundings. All I said was, “I wonder if this tree above us is deep rooted.?” I got their attention, but no one moved (including me).
The workers were putting up a huge tent to house a private party on Saturday. The winery had an attractive flowerbed at the entrance. It contained some spectacular, very large purple blooms. I have never seen anything like it before. I ask one of the lady-employees inside what the plant was? She told me that it was a Blue Curled Scotch Kale plant.
We headed back from the V. Sattui Winery at 1:05.We pass the Prager, Sutter Home, Edgewood, Milat, Whitehall, Beaucanon, and Grgich Hills wineries. We pass a one room school. I don’t see many of these anymore. Marie went to a one room school when she lived on a farm in Tulare County. Her Mother taught there. Marie has told me about riding her horse to school.
Next is the Robert Mondavi winery. We pass the Brix restaurant on the right, where Mary took me to lunch, before Christmas. I recommend it! Next, are the Napa Cellar, Cosentino, Domaine Chandon and Laird Wineries. The western hills of the Napa Valley provide a great silhouette. The Wine Train tracks are still on the right side. We are passing a grove of Eucalyptus trees. They are huge and old. I remember them looking old 60 years ago, when I first saw them. I always smile when I see the tall palm trees at a few homes in the Valley. While they may say “California,” they look out of place in Northern California.
The Evans Air porter is going by Northbound in the opposite direction. Marie and I have ridden Evans on round trips to both airports - from Vallejo. Besides excellent Oakland and San Francisco Airports service, they also provide excursions and charters. This is the way to go, if a group is winery hopping and “tasting” at each one. What better a “designated driver” than Evans? We are passing the Factory Outlet complex. I haven’t been there in a long time. The last time was many years ago, when Marie bought a pair of Easy Spirit shoes. She liked the brand, and she couldn’t find them anywhere else. The “Outlet” is a large complex, and like everyplace else, I am sure they are sweating out this recession.
Tony is moving at the speed limit, and a VW Beetle is passing us - driven by an older driver. He probably bought it new (the pale-blue paint job looks like the original) 40 years ago! I always notice these Volkswagen “Bugs”, because three of our daughters (Mary, Beth and Sue) each, owned one.
I am looking at a field of interesting cattle, grazing in a lush-green pasture. They have dark hides, with white “belts” around their mid-sections. I have never seen this breed before, and I have looked at a lot of cows. I was curious, so I “Googled” the Wikipedia website and found my answer. They are either Belted Galloways or Dutch Belted cows. This white marking is also on bulls, heifers and calves. This website is amazing. Unpaid individuals provide all the input to the site. Normally, “you get what you pay for”. So, I am amazed at a free source of information. One might question the authenticity of the information, but everything that I have checked sounds reasonable to me. That’s good enough.
Driving through Jamison canyon the nice weather has left us. We are back in the soup again. At least the drivers are thoughtful, and have turned on their headlights. A freight train is chugging westward, in the opposite direction, at a low speed. Only a few cars, and it has gone from view. Back on I-80 East, and the sun is out. We are passing Ray’s RV lot in Cordelia. The recession, and the high price of gas, and low gas mileage, account for the sizeable inventory of motor homes and trailers. Traffic is heavier, in both directions, with the lapse of a few hours.
We arrive back at Quail Creek at 1:50, after a beautiful day spent in the Napa Valley. Hard to think of a better place. We should be so lucky!
Ray L’Amoreaux
February 2, 2010.

Saturday, January 29, 2010.

2010-01-29T21:41:00.000-08:00

Saturday, January 29. 2010.
I had an interesting day today. My daughter Joan took me shopping, and then her husband, Manny, met us for a nice lunch at my favorite restaurant - “Fresh Choice”, here in Fairfield. During our luncheon conversation Joan talked about the Wolf Moon tonight. She asked me if I had ever heard of it, and I said “No”. So, I “Googled” it. Here is what I found:
Tonight, the heavens showed off the first, and biggest, full moon of 2010. I am disappointed that we are socked in, with drizzling sky. I looked out my front window, but overcast. I did the next best thing, though. I saw the nearly full moon last evening. Oh, to have a helicopter. and be able to climb above the soup. Probably would break out of the fog/clouds at 1500 feet, and be overwhelmed by the beautiful sight!
The early Native Americans associated this occasion to hungry wolves howling at the full moon on a cold winter night. Red-looking Mars, is sitting just to the left of the moon. The moons seems bigger than usual because the moon travels in an elliptical orbit, with one side of the orbit closer to earth than the other side.
I enjoyed eating dinner with Marie tonight at Laurel Creek. She seemed to enjoy her dinner partner, too. Whenever you are feeling sorry for yourself, I suggest that you visit a skilled nursing facility. You will have a different perspective of your lot in life - “There, but for the grace of God, go I”.
This evening I am listening to “Old Favorites” music on TV, while reading the “Time” magazine, which came in today’s mail. I was really impressed with Nancy Gibb’s essay on the last page (56). I suggest that all of you read it - especially, you Boomers. If you don’t have a copy of the February 8th issue, it is well worth a trip, to read it at your local library. You will be glad that you did. You will never look at a birthday the same way, again.
Nancy mentioned inviting her playground friends to her birthday party, six months afterwards. The kicker is that she failed to tell her mother. That episode reminded me of a similar occasion in my young life. My Mother had just returned home from the hospital - after the birth of my youngest brother, Jack. (he was nine years and eight months younger). He was very red. I invited my whole fifth grade class to come home with me after school to see my “Indian” brother. When we all walked into the house - at 59 South Norwood Avenue in Hillsdale, Michigan - I could see, by the look on my Mother’s face, that it wasn’t the smartest thing that I ever did!
Ray L’Amoreaux
January 29, 2010.

SANTA ROSA

2010-01-27T20:54:00.001-08:00

SANTA ROSA
Anne asked me if I would like to ride over to Santa Rosa with her on Saturday. This was an offer that I couldn’t refuse. Not only would I be able to spend the day with my oldest daughter, but I would be viewing the beautiful scenery in the Napa and Sonoma Valleys! While I don’t dwell on it, I do reflect on the fact that I have the same wanderlust that was in my Mother’s genes. I, too, like to have new experiences. After my Dad died in 1963, my Mom would dress in the morning, as if she were going out. Usually, she had no such plans. But, her younger friends were aware of how she liked to “Go” - whether it be shopping at the Mall or grocery store; a movie; or playing cards - it didn’t matter (she didn’t drive). It didn’t make any difference to her where they were going. They would give her a phone call, at the last minute, knowing that they wouldn’t have to wait for her to get ready. She would stand at the front door waiting for her ride.
Anne had to take her Lexus over to the Dealer, for it’s 120.000 mile “check“. She picked me up at Quail Creek at 8:45. She drove South on I-80 to Jamison Canyon (#12), and then West over to Highway 29/12. Then, North on that, to Carneros Highway, where we headed West once again. Some fields in low-level areas were flooded from the recent rainy week. It looked like “wetlands” .
We passed the Napa Valley Wine Train on it’s early morning run, chugging along about 5mph, North up the Valley. This is a three hour round trip. The fare depends on your choice of lunch - $49.50 in the Silverado Lunch Car (not air conditioned in the summer); $94.00 for the Gourmet Express Lunch; and $124.00 for the Vista Dome Car Lunch. Separate kitchen cars serve each of these cars’ menus. Anne mentioned that the Napa Valley tourist revenues are only second to those of Disneyland!
West on the back road #116) to Petaluma, and then on to Santa Rosa. Petaluma is a very picturesque city. We passed a lot of grazing cattle - a great pastoral scene. Of course, the Clover Dairy was nearby. It seemed too early for the yellow mustard seed, but there it was - a spectacular sight. The yellow plants “are used as a cover crop in vineyards to reduce erosion, and add nitrogen to the soil. The plants also provide “firm footing during wet weather“, to provide access to the vineyard during the winter months.
We arrived at the Freeman Lexus Agency about 10:00 - her scheduled appointment time. While she was checking in with the Service Manager, I helped myself to a warm peanut butter cookie, (there was a jar of dog biscuits nearby!), and a hot cocoa. It really hit the spot on this rainy Saturday. The unique machine, dispensed coffee (after grinding the Starbucks beans); de-cafe -( or half coffee and half de café); or cocoa! The dispenser was a beauty, as one would expect from Lexus. Being a native from the mid-west, I have always used the word “Cadillac” as a standard measure of “Quality”. Today, it is “Lexus”.
Still waiting for Anne to finish with the Service Manager, I went over to the display case. The agency building is new and a very nice facility. Not only did the architect do a great job designing it, but it was quality materials and workmanship! I was impressed with the large-white imported -tile squares for flooring! I picked up a Lexus brochure and was studying the picture of the red convertible. Magically, a Salesman came up and asked me how I liked it. (silly question). I said, “How much?”. He said , “About $40,000. I have one in stock, would you like to see it?”. I declined. I didn’t want him to see an older man drool on his spotless white tiling. I was surprised by the low price. I thought that it would be at least $60,000. Then, I bored him by telling him about my convertible. I told him that I had bought a brand new -1941 Chevrolet Convertible - black top, red leather seats, white side walls and fender skirts - top of the line - $995! He didn’t comment, as Anne approached. Later on, I did the arithmetic. In 1940, I was earning 50 cents an hour. So, it took a years’ worth of my earnings to pay for that car. Today, many people could buy that red Lexus convertible for a much smaller fraction of their annual earnings, than my deal. Another way of looking at it. The Lexus convertible costs 40 tome as much as my convertible. Yet, 40 times my 50 cents an hour is $20. I am sure most people earn more than this today. (At least those who still have a job!) So, what about the good old days?
A Lexus “Loaner” was waiting for us outside. I was impressed! It was a beauty - Black exterior with black leather- interior trim. It had 4550 miles on the odometer, and a new model had a sticker price of about $30,000.The lady that had Anne fill out the “loaner” paperwork, checked her out, briefly, on operating the car. She told Anne “To start it you put your foot on the brake, and push the button.” (I don’t know if I could adjust to no key!) She didn’t tell Anne how to shut off the engine, so I asked her. She said, “Push the button.” What she didn’t say was how you check the fuel gage, when refueling before bringing the car back, without turning on the engine??
I was amazed by the 180 degree view behind you, on the GPS screen on the dash, when backing up! Of course the GPS system is amazing, too.
We are back on #29, heading north to Yountville for lunch. Anne pointed out a flock of herons, wading in the “wetland” caused by a lot of rain during the past week. We pass the “Red Hen” which used to be a furniture store, then antique sections on consignment. (Anne had a spot in there for a while). There was also a great restaurant next door. Marie and I enjoyed spending many hours at both places. Sometimes, I thought that it was our recreation. Anne said that the facility was up for sale. That figures, I guess. A sign of the crummy times.
We are approaching Yountville, where we will have lunch. The California Veterans’ Home is located here. It is a huge facility, and a great landmark. I have seen a lot of the veterans in town during the years,. Anne told of talking to a guy with a motorized scooter - most likely a veteran. She asked him how fast that thing would go? He told her, “Not fast enough!”.
Anne mentioned Thomas Keller, who owns The French Laundry restaurant here in Yountville. It opened in the summer of 1994 This is a special restaurant, because of it’s high quality reputation. The French Laundry has received many dining awards. Reservations are required - no “walk-ins”. Then, you can be on the “wait” list for two months, even though the meals costs $250 for a nine course lunch or dinner. But, this is a bargain, because it includes the gratuity! While I have never eaten here, Marie and I did peek in the window once.
Keller opened another French restaurant down Washington Street from the French Laundry - “Bouchon“, in 1998. They opened a bakery next door a few years later. Next, came their ad hoc Restaurant, again, on Washington Street. The restaurant serves just one fare per evening - family style. A four course dinner costs around $50.
Anne treated me to lunch at the the Bottega restaurant in Yountville. It is at the North end of the Vintage 1870 shopping complex (V Marketplace)- near the closed stand-alone Compadre restaurant. (Anne said that the Compadre was closed. Marie and I have eaten there a few times. The Compadre specialized in Mexican food, and the quality was very good.)
Anne and I had a bowl of minestrone soup at Bottegas, and it was very good. You can’t beat soup on a cold -rainy day like this. I judge a restaurant by whether it has tablecloths and cloth napkins. The Bottega has both. The tablecloth was so clean that they served the French bread right on the tablecloth. Of course, the celebrity chef, Michael Chiarello, who owns Bottega's, is also a big boost! When we left the restaurant, it was pouring rain. Anne brought her umbrella from the car, but I left mine there, as it wasn’t raining when we got out of the car. It was raining so hard I felt that it had to be a shower (or cloudburst). I suggested that we wait outside, in the covered dining area, until the cloud passed. Which we did.
As we were backing out of the parking lot, a wheeled “Cable Car” passed by in front of us. Anne said that the city of Yountville purchased the car from Napa. The service runs along Washington Street in Yountville, and across the #29 highway to the Veterans’ home.
Anne drove on a street parallel to the highway. I have lived in the area for over 50 years and I had never been on it. It was very picturesque, with some very nice homes along the way. I asked Anne the name of the road, and I was surprised when she said “Yount Mill Road”. I was impressed,
until she admitted that she peeked at the GPS screen.
Anne cut back on 29, heading North. We spotted the Wine Train heading South on it’s return trip to Napa. At the Oakville Grocery (it has been there for as long as I can remember), she turned right on to Oakville Cross Road, and headed East over to Silverado Trail. On the way, Anne pointed out the Plump Jack Winery on the left. She also said the San Francisco’s Mayor Newsome had a vested interest in the winery. It is fronted - at roadside - by a wall of beautiful Rutherford rock.
Anne took a right on to Silverado Trail - a beautiful stretch of highway. Observing this magnificent scenery of rolling green hills, and vineyards on both sides of the road, is well worth the trip to the Napa Valley just to observe it. In the distance, Anne spotted what looked like smoke. We thought it might be an illegal burn, but then, we saw another similar sight a little later on. We decided that we were looking at wisps of clouds (fog) nestled in the crevices of the hills instead.
Anne returned to Highway 29 by taking Oak Knoll from Silverado Trail westward. She headed south on 29 towards Napa, and stopped at the UPS Store to pick up her mail from her postal box, and run some copies of articles for me. She offered to drive me back to Fairfield, but as long as the car would be ready at 3:30, I didn’t want her to do all the extra driving. So, we headed back to Santa Rosa, to pick up her car.
She drove through Glen Ellen on the way back. We are in Sonoma County now. This is a small community (about a 1,000 residents), but it is very picturesque and inviting. It is known locally, primarily, for Jack London’s Wolf House. Before entering Glen Ellen, we passed the large Sonoma Developmental Center on our left. Then, we passed the Kunde Family Estate Winery in Kentwood.
We passed the Oakmont Retirement Community. Marie and I toured this complex 60 years ago when we visited the Fashbaughs. Bob and Jean lived in Santa Rosa, and they managed the Golden Bear Lodge near Oakmont. I knew the Fashbaughs back in Ypsilanti, before the war. They, in turn, visited us in Antioch. My former boss, Ken Black, at C&H Sugar in San Francisco, and his wife Dorothy (who was an executive Secretary at Standard Oil in San Francisco) retired to Oakmont around 1970.
Anne went out of her way to drive through the Fountain Grove area north of Santa Rosa. I am glad that she did, as I wasn’t familiar with it. It is a very nice area! The boulevard runs miles through the hills, with it’s many curves - cause for a 35 mph speed limit. Winding up and down the hills, I kept thinking what a thrill it would be, to ride a “Soap Box” cart down that terrain. Or, better yet, if there were snow, a bobsled or toboggan ride. We passed the large Varenna Senior Living Community facility on the right. It overlooks Fountain Grove Lake, and the Fountaingrove Golf and Athletic Club. I was very surprised how Santa Rosa has grown since the last time I was there many years ago. The population was probably 100,000. In 2007, they estimated the population to be 154,000. It will be interesting what they come up with in this years census.
We then headed back down southbound on 101 to the Dealers. The car was scheduled to be ready at 3:30. We arrived at 4:10. The Service Manager said her car wouldn’t be ready fir two more hours! So it wasn’t a total loss, I had another cookie and cocoa! It was interesting when Anne checked out. The cashier said “That will be a thousand eighty one”. While Anne wasn’t surprised, I was. I forgot that we were in Lexusland. The lady recited that large number like I would say, “That’ll be ten dollars!”
Anne spotted a double rainbow off to our left, as we headed down 101. It was not only unusual, but very picturesque. She cut across to
Highway 12 on Route 116, and home. We arrived back at Quail Creek at 7:15! It was a long day. I was surprised that I wasn’t “beat”. I guess the pleasure of the trip trumped any weariness. As my Mother used to say (at my age) after her busy day,” It was a good tired”.
It seems a little out of whack. I have spent about as much time preparing this Blog, as I did on the subject trip! Ray L’Amoreaux
January 27, 2010.

TID BITS

2010-01-18T09:52:00.000-08:00

TID BITS
I watched part of the Minnesota - Dallas Playoff game today, after returning from Mass with Sue, and visiting Marie, at Laurel Creek. This afternoon, I watched all of the New York Jets - San Diego Charger game.
The Qualcomm Stadium, in San Diego, holds 71,500 people. From the Goodyear blimp above, it looked more crowded than that. The parking lot was, of course, jammed, too. We have three grand daughters living in San Diego. I couldn’t help but wonder if any of them were part of the crowd. (Last September, I visited San Diego to attend Melissa and Ryan’s wedding.) The channel showed another aerial shot from the blimp - of San Diego - looking towards the island of Coronado. It was a great view of a great city.
During the game, there was a commercial for a new movie being released. I can’t remember the name of the show, but I can remember that Anthony Hopkins starred in it. Every time that I see his name, I think of the time that Marie and I saw him. It was on our flight from JFK to Heathrow , twenty years ago. He was flying First Class, and we were sitting in the rear of the plane.
We were on our way to visit our friends, Maggie and Steve. They had traded their home in Berkeley, for a month, with the Grews who lived in Repton, England. Maggie said that he has since retired from teaching at Repton, and they( Grews) have moved to Blansford. Back to the football game, it was a bummer. It wasn’t very exciting to me. San Diego beat themselves, with some bone-head penalties - like head-butting, and kicking the red challenge flag that the Jets coach threw out on to the field. The penalty moved San Diego back from the Jets 20 yard line to the 35 - from there - the field goal kicker missed a field goal! These penalties weren’t the smartest moves of the day.
The Chargers appeared “flat”. They didn’t seem to be motivated, inspired or enthusiastic. Coach Norv Turner’s fault? I think not. He’s demonstrated that he is too good a coach to have overlooked “firing up” the team prior to the game. Just to be in the Play Offs, should have been enough incentive for the players to go all out! San Diego had home field advantage, which meant that The Jets had to cope with a very loud environment.
Mark Sanchez, the jets rookie quarterback, should have been awed by all of the pressure. It is hard to believe that he quarter-backed USC just a little over a year ago. Then, a year ago, he attended a Play-off game between these Chargers and the Indianapolis Colts. He sat six rows below the rim of the stadium. This year, he sat on the field - and led his team to victory. How thrilling is that? Only in America! It will probably be made into a movie!
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Last Friday afternoon, Mary invited Joan, Sue and I over for a “work party”. When we moved from Vallejo, to Fairfield, 21 months ago, our daughters cleared out our house and garage. To make it easier (at the time) and expedient, they filled about 25 large -plastic bins with books, photo albums, memorabilia, etc. - most of it coming from storage cabinets in the garage. Then, along with the help of their husbands, they hauled the bins to local storage facility. I have been paying $59 a month for all these bins to collect dust. I suggested that we start sorting through them, and keep what we wanted and then give/throw away, the balance. All of this “stuff” seemed so valuable back then, but we haven’t accessed the contents of the bins in all of these months - except for a few Christmas decorations, and other small items, which we removed.
This saga reminded me of the psychology (or someone‘s law) about a similar situation about 30 years ago! I was working for California and Hawaiian Sugar Company at their corporate office in San Francisco. At budget time I requested a new file cabinet. My files were starting to pile up on my desk and table. Instead of a new file cabinet, my boss brought in a “file consultant.” She sat down with me one day and started through my files from A to Z. With each document she would ask me if I had looked at it in the past six months.? That was a loaded question! Six months goes by quite rapidly - as you know - My parents taught me to be truthful. Usually. I would tell her, “No”. So, she would throw it in the waste basket. Being a “saver” all of my life (I blame it on my Great Depression training by my parents - especially my Mother. She was the patron saint of savers.) When I protested to the consultant, that I might need the document sometime, she said that “There is always a copy somewhere in the organization.” While it was a gut- wrenching experience, I ended up not needing a new file cabinet, and I had 50 percent empty filing space in my current file case!
Back to our ‘cleaning -out -files party”. I guess that we only have 19 more bins to wade through, before I can close my account with the storage company.
One of the things that slows down the sorting process (besides consulting with someone who might want the item) is running into old memorabilia, such as the sorter’s own handiwork that they produced decades ago. We naturally enjoyed perusing them, instead of tossing or claiming them. One good thing, we are not under the gun to complete the chore expeditiously. It took time to accumulate the bins contents, it is only reasonable to assume that it will take time to dispose of them.
There was a bright spot during the evening. Mary and Greg served crackers, cheese and dip; along with wine, salad and Pizza.
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I got my H1N1 flu shot on Friday. I wasn’t eligible the first time around. Now, that there seems to be a sufficient supply of the vaccine, I re-considered. I double checked with Farshid, my Heart Case Manager, for his counseling. He felt that since I was born during the big flu epidemic of 1918, I probably was immune to that same strain of flu. But, he said that it wouldn’t hurt to get it. One of those times when it is better to be “safe than sorry.” So, I dropped by the Kaiser Clinic to be shot.
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Ray L’Amoreaux
January 18, 2010.

CACHE CREEK

2010-01-14T14:30:00.001-08:00

CACHE CREEK
Our Quail Creek “Outing” today (Wednesday, January 13, 2010), was to Cache Creek, a Native American Casino, and Resort, in Brooks, CA. There are six residents on board, plus Tony, Kelli and Uaei, a cna. We left Quail Creek, in Fairfield, at 0915, and arrived at Cache Creek at 1005.The weather is cool, overcast and threatening. It rained during the night, and the standing water in the fields is the evidence. I am sure the orchards and planted fields are happy. There are many English walnut and fruit orchards along the way. This area is known for growing sugar beets.
Traffic was light on I-80 and 505. We passed Genenetech’s nice looking facility in Vacaville. The weather has cleared, and we have very nice blue sky. The fields and orchards are dormant this time of the year. The associated farmers are probably lounging on the beach at Waikiki. A Pacific Diamond Tour bus passed us, and I am sure that Tony was driving at the 70mph speed limit. Time is money I guess, because I later saw the same bus parked in front of the Casino.
There are Call Phones still installed along 505. In the day of cell phones, I guess you could call them “Plan B”. We exit Highway 505, and head west on #16 towards Esparto. What a drop down in highway quality - from a very nice divided freeway to a two lane -bumpy -country road. The road condition is reflected by the reduced speed limit of 45mph. We pass a nice pastoral scene of four good looking horses eating their breakfast.
We are entering Esparto. We are in Yolo County now. While Esparto is a small town ( the 2000 census lists the population as 1858), it is really spread out. It is run down, although they have a nice looking high school. The town reminds me of a western movie set. The next village is Copay. There are a few “fixer-uppers’’ here. This is still a very pretty area butting up against the Lake Berryessa hills. We pass a roadside sign, “Report Drunk Drivers - Call 911” (There are “Call Boxes” along Highway 16W, too.) The Casino is so far from a commercial area, I can’t imagine hauling all of the building materials and equipment, so far! Tony pulls up in front of the Cache Creek entrance at 1005. What great service!
While they did a very nice job designing and building this complex, it just seems out of place in such a rural setting. But, again, that’s why they chose this spot. It is landscaped nicely, too, including an 18 hole championship golf course ($85 a round to play!).
This project was started in 1985 by the Yocha Dehe Wintun (“Home by the Spring Water”) Nation. The tribe opened a bingo hall in Brooks. In 2002, they announced plans to build a $200,000,000 property. The tribe named it Cache Creek- Casino Resort. This is a huge complex! The property covers 415,000 Sq. Ft. - nine and one half acres. The Resort opened in 2004. It consists of:
9 restaurants
600 seat Club
75,000 Sq. Ft. of casino floor area
200 room hotel, and an adjacent garage
2400 slot machines
122 game tables.
The complex provides 2500 jobs, and is the largest employer in Yolo County.
One can get lost, easily, in there. I didn’t see a single Native American employee while I was there. There were a lot of people inside the Casino - mostly Asian-Americans and Caucasians. Yet, it wasn’t crowded. You can thank the Recession, and our mid-week visit, for that. I was surprised that smoking was allowed inside - private property, I guess. As a former industrial engineer, and still interested in cost control and cost reduction, I can’t fathom how the revenues would even cover the high utility bill for heating/air-conditioning; lighting; powering the machines etc., let alone make a profit.
I walked by the black jack tables, They were abut half occupied - with a $5 minimum bet to play. Then, I noticed a large separate room of tables. The sign said “High- Stakes Black Jack Room”. It didn’t define “High”. I was surprised to see as many players in there as at the $5 tables.
Then, I saw a large group of people surrounding a table. I couldn’t figure what was going on. I asked a bystander, and he said that they were playing Baccarat. He added, “the Chinese like this game”. It was pretty obvious to me that he was right. Baccarat is described as a simple game, but I couldn’t tell, not knowing anything about the game. It must have been a Mini Baccarat game, because there wasn’t any security. I assume that the stakes weren’t too high.
The Casino had an ingenious system for playing the electronic slot machines. As a newcomer, I signed up to get my “Club Card”. This came with 2500 points imbedded. This represented a $25 credit at any of the restaurants. I also needed to insert the card in the machine to play. Then, you can play by adding an amount to the card beforehand, and using the card or “folding money”, or money remaining on a “Cash out ticket".
I played the nickel machine for about an hour, before we gathered for a nice lunch, on site, at Kung Fu Fat’s. A large variety of dishes on the menu. I settled for a cup of won ton soup, steamed rice and egg plant. (I had so much egg plant, when I was stationed in North Africa, I never wanted to see that purple vegetable again. The cook would use powdered eggs and powdered milk to make a batter to camouflage it. It's funny how soon one forgets. That was over 65 years ago!) The food was very good. The prices were reasonable, and we received good service.
The slip in my fortune cookie said, “A movie would be a great place to relax this weekend.” Do you think that Hollywood marketing has penetrated the fortune cookie mystique?
After lunch, I went back to the same machine that I played in the morning,, and sat there pushing the button for another hour.
When you decide that you have had enough fun for the day, you can “Cash Out” any money remaining on your ticket. The slot machine produces a ticket which prints out the amount still available. You can use this ticket to play any of the machines, or take it, and your Club Card, to a “Cash Out” machine (a mini -ATM machine), and get the cash amount. What was so interesting was my ticket had 190 points printed on it. I inserted it into the machine, and the screen read-out said that I was due $9.50 (still left from my original $10 “investment”.) But, it didn’t produce the cash. Then, I
re-read the screen and the message said “Insert your other ticket”. I forgot that I had it, as it was for only $.10, and I had put it in my pocket for a “souvenir”. I inserted it and sure enough, $9.60 was ejected. Amazing!
I wonder what happened to the “one armed bandits” that I grew up with? You pull the handle on those for a few hours, and your arm would ache. With these electronic machines, you just hit a button to spin the reels. Of course, you could end up with a “trigger finger”. I can see how one would get addicted to gambling. It is so easy to sit there pushing a button and getting mesmerized by the spinning symbols rolling by - especially when the friendly lady comes by and asks you if you would like something to drink?
Too, it’s you against the machine’s mentality. I kept thinking that I was going to hit the “Big One”, after all my “near misses” from the 7’s nearly lining up- across. Just one more push of the button! I think that I was probably right. About 5 minutes after I left my nickel machine (they even have one, and two cent, machines!), I thought I would return to “my” machine to see if anyone was playing it, and how they were doing. That was a mistake. I left the machine with 190 points. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The fellow playing the machine had over 5,000 points ($250) showing on his screen! I am sure he didn’t start playing with a large sum. Apparently, he had hit a jack pot. My theory is that he was stalking me, and watching me play so long without hitting it big. He probably reasoned that the machine was about due to pay off big., so he sat down. I think that he was right. That is the difference between an amateur and a professional gambler!
I missed the “money scroungers” from the old days. With no coins in use today, it put them out of business. I would like to watch them walk around the slot area, looking for coins left in the money holders of the machines, or dropped on the floor.
We left Cache Creek at 2:45, and were back at Quail Creek at 3:40. It was an uneventful trip back. We passed many newly planted row crops. The plantings (probably sugar beets) had just emerged from the ground. The fields looked very healthy, as they should planted in such fertile looking soil.
Ray L’Amoreaux
January 14, 2010.

ROUTE 66

2010-01-12T20:14:00.000-08:00

ROUTE 66
Does Route 66 ring a bell with you older readers? It sure does with me! First of all I can never remember whether it is pronounced “Rute” or “Row(l)t”? A couple of days ago, The Wall Street Journal ran an article on this famous and well traveled - two-lane highway.
The article was very interesting to me, because I have driven on that highway, four times - either all the way, or a portion of the route. Many of you are familiar with the larger cities en-route from Chicago to Los Angeles (2451 miles), repeated in Glenn Miller’s popular recording of “Get Your Kicks on Route 66” - Chicago, St. Louis, Oklahoma City, Amarillo, Gallup, Flagstaff, Winona, Kingman, Barstow, San Bernardino and L.A.
The first time that I drove the route was during January, 1944. I had been stationed at Atlantic City for R&R after returning from combat. I was assigned to pilot training, and had to report to the Training Center at Santa Ana. I asked my Mother to ride along, and she accepted.
My next time driving the route was after I had finished my pilot training at Douglas, (AZ). This was January 1945. I asked a classmate from Detroit, Walt McGreevy, to ride along with me to our next station at Columbia, SC.
The next ride on Highway 66 was with Marie, who had joined me in Columbia at her break from Mills College. It was May, 1945, when we left Greenville SC for California.
The fourth time was in December 1945, when Marie and I drove from California back To Ypsilanti, Michigan, where my parents lived. I entered the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, and Marie supported us by doing secretarial work at Kaiser -Frazer auto company at Willow Run. (See below for our experience on this trip)
Our fifth trip was from Ypsilanti to California in May of 1947. By then, we had traded in our Chevrolet convertible for a Kaiser (Marie got a 20 percent employee discount). We traveled the Northern route from Michigan to California this time.
There was an additional cross country trip for us. In the spring of 1952, we headed back to Montgomery, Alabama. I had been re-called during the Korean War, and had been assigned to go to the Air Command and Staff School at Maxwell Field. By this time, we had traded in our ‘47 Kaiser for a ‘52 Chevrolet coupe - just before we left Sacramento. This trip, we had an additional passenger - Anne, our first born. She was about six months old when we left. We celebrated her first birthday in New Orleans on our return trip. I fixed a wooden platform to rest on the floor between the back of the front seat and the front of the rear seat. Then, I placed her crib mattress on the frame. It’s surface was then level with the back seat. She really enjoyed the freedom to move around, and she was safe. Fortunately, there was no seat belt law back in 1952. We drove back on the Southern route from Montgomery to Sacramento.
My memory is a little vague on these trips over 60 years ago. There are a few memories that I will never forget:
We usually drove 200-300 miles per day, so we stayed at a few motels and small hotels along the way. We set $6 as the maximum that we would pay per night. We found that we could get a pretty nice place for that amount. One day we decided to drive beyond five o’clock. It was dark when we finally decided to stop for the night. The first place had a rate of $9! I suspect that they had a lower rate for the earlier check-ins. Marie wanted to keep going. She wanted to drive on, to find a cheaper place. I did all of the driving although she was a good driver, I was “beat”, and talked her into staying there.
On another trip, we were also driving late on a Saturday night. We stopped at a small place, on the outskirts of a small town, to inquire about a room. I remember sitting at the bar, drinking hot chocolates, while negotiating for a room. The bar tender said that he didn’t have a room right then, but if we would hang around for a little while, he would have one available. There was a short pause, and then Marie asked me, “If he doesn’t have a room now, how will he have one later?” I whispered in her ear that “the pillows will be warm”. It took her a little while to figure out what was going on. She was so upset that she grabbed me and said, “Come on we are getting out of here!”.
So we drove on, and it was getting quite late. We pulled into a small town, and it was about midnight. The only place that we could find open was a very small hotel right next to the railway station. They had a room on the second floor, and we took it. We were glad that we finally found a place. I can still see that old bed with the decorative cast- iron at the head and foot of the bed. The toilet was down the hall! We were tired. We didn’t any more get to sleep, when we were awakened by the noise of a switch engine down below. Finally, back to sleep again. Then, we must have been on the mainline of the railroad. Trains - both passenger and freight ran all night. The hotel was so close to the tracks, that the bed shook a little from the vibrations of the trains as they sped through. I like trains, and have ridden them for thousands of miles. (My Dad worked for the New York Central Railroad.) But, I was in no mood for them that night. This experience, was during WWII. The locomotives back then, were steam powered. The steam-powered whistles had a unique sound, and I always enjoyed hearing them. But, not that night (morning!). I still haven’t gotten used to the blowing horns on the modern diesel-electric engines of today. I think we paid $4 for that night of torture.
Another vivid experience happened in Gallup, in December 1945. I had just returned to Long Beach from Okinawa (via Fort Lawton, Washington - after 19 days on a Liberty ship. - but that is another long story! We were on our way back to Michigan for Christmas. We were driving my 1941 Chevrolet convertible. It was snowing, and the temperature was 20 below zero. Have you ever ridden - on red leather -seats, at that temperature - in a convertible, with an inoperative heater? If not, you haven’t lived! Marie started crying she was so cold. She asked me to turn back She wanted to go back to California!
I was able to calm Marie down by telling her that it would get warmer as we drove eastward. We continued on in to Gallup. It was about 6 o’clock and dark. Servicemen are taught to contact the USO (United Service Organizations) when we need help. The organization manned desks in train stations, bus depots and airports. As it happened, the Gallup railway station was along main street as we entered Gallup. So, we parked and went in. I talked to the lady at the desk, and asked her about a motel. She told me there wasn’t a room available in town. Both the East and West transcontinental trains were snowbound at the station. I can’t remember whether both trains belonged to the Southern Pacific or the Santa Fe, or to each company. All the rooms in town were taken by the stranded train passengers. She was very nice and accommodating. She said that she would call her friend and ask her if she would provide a bedroom for us. Her friend said O.K. and told her to send us up. Boy! What a relief! She gave us directions, and I thanked her “Very Much!” Parking at the lady’s house was difficult because of the large snow drifts on each side of the road. Our hostess greeted us, and welcomed us in.
Marie and I were really cold! Our California clothing didn’t provide much warmth. I remember the two of us standing near the floor register for quite some time. Then the nice lady made some cocoa for us. It was the best hot chocolate that I have ever had. One person CAN make a difference!
The next morning I drove the car down to a garage to have the thermostat replaced. Of course he was very busy, fixing other cars. The car was ready about noon. I went back to the house and picked up Marie. We thanked the kind lady (I don’t remember her charging us) and we were off, once again, on Route 66. This was the last time that I traveled this highway.
Ray L’Amoreaux
January 12, 2010.

CHRISTMAS UNDECORATING!

2010-01-07T09:38:00.000-08:00

CHRISTMAS UNDECORATING
I would guess that many of you were up to your fetlocks, in removed Christmas decorations, over the New Year - weekend. “Don’t sweat the small stuff”. Your job was simple compared to that of Jane and Randy Sweet! The Wall Street Journal featured their chore on the front page today.
The Sweets put up 63 Christmas trees in their home this past Season! They use many thousand ornaments to decorate all of their “fake” trees. (from a dozen ornaments per tree to about 500 on the largest one.) With trimming comes “undecorating!” The Sweets don’t start to take the decorations down, until their daughter returns to college. They use her room to store all of the packed- plastic bins. Mrs. Sweet said that “it takes at least a month to put them away.”
The article also mentioned a Mr. Brenner, who sets up five Christmas trees. One of these is his “memory” tree, which he sets up in a dedicated “Christmas Room”. He leaves the tree up all year.
Reading about this, reminded me of Larry Jackson, who worked in the Mail Room, on the 19th floor, at California and Hawaiian Sugar Company’s corporate office in San Francisco. Our office was in the Mutual Benefit Life building, at 101 California Street. One Christmas season, Larry told me about their perpetual Christmas tree! It was part of the furniture on their glassed-in porch in their home in Richmond. Larry told me about the history of the tree. It was flocked in white. He saw it in front of a neighbor’s house awaiting pick-up for disposal. He asked them if he could have it. He explained why, and they gave it to him. The tree was very well preserved by the white coating. Alice and Larry’s son was in the Service, and didn’t make it home for Christmas. Alice and Larry told their son that they would wait and celebrate Christmas when he came home. His homecoming was many months later, and the Jackson’s celebrated their family “Christmas”. The tree stayed up afterwards.
Alice and Larry had great fun inviting friends over for a Fourth of July party. It wasn’t long, before someone would holler, “Hey Larry, plug in the tree”. They would gather around and sing Christmas Carols. I have thought about this event many times, during each of my thirty Christmases since then.
Ray L’Amoreaux. January 7, 2010.

NINETIES

2010-01-06T09:15:00.001-08:00

NINETIES.
When I was younger, I thought that anyone my age (91) was ancient. Now, that I am here, I don’t look at myself as being old. The Gerontologists call me, and my cohorts, “old-old.” There are so many of us living to a ripe old age, that they had to come up with this new age classification. According to the 2000 Census, there were over a million of us from 90 to 94 years of age. There are an estimated 131, 000 centenarians today. It will be interesting what this years census will come up with. All of these latter oldsters had to pass through the nineties to get into the select “100”. Outside of my Mother, who died at three months shy of 100, I thought I was probably the next longest-lived family member. But, after a quick check of my families’ statistics, I found a couple of my Dad’s relatives (both males) who died after reaching 95. With my good genes, inherited from both my parents, I have a shot at reaching 95, too, (assuming that I stay off I-80).
When I came to Quail Creek - three months shy of two years ago - I thought that I would probably be the oldest one here. Not so! From what I know, there are three older than I am. Two ladies, have died since I’ve been here - both around 100.
Quail Creek is an assisted living facility. Across the street, and in surrounding houses and apartments, live the “Independent” residents. I play bridge with some of these people. There are a couple of them - a woman and a man - who are 95, and still capable of playing the game. At least, up to my standards. They are my role models.
Conclusion: If, you should go to a continuing-care facility to live, you probably won’t be the oldest resident there.
HAPPY NEW YEAR! May 2010 treat all of you gently.!
Ray L’Amoreaux
January 5, 2010
I

B-25'S

2010-01-03T20:40:00.000-08:00

B-25’S
Last night I watched a DVD - “Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo”’ starring Spencer Tracy, Van Johnson, Robert Michum and Phyllis Thaxter. Sadly, none of these three male actors are still living. They still seemed to be present, as I watched the video. Phyllis is three younger than I. She is also a Scorpio. A couple of screenwriters Bill and John, who I met a few months ago, sent me the video, along with other DVD’s and VCR’s relating to WWII. I thought that I had seen the movie “Thirty Seconds” before, but while watching, it wasn’t familiar to me. I did read the book. Apparently, I was thinking of that.
I noted a couple of things in the movie that I didn’t think were very accurate. While proceeding to the target area, the turret-gunner engineer was shown pouring cans of gasoline into the auxiliary bomb-bay fuel tanks. The very next scene showed him smoking a cigarette. I don’t think so! In a later scene, when Ted Lawson was ditching his plane in the China Sea - at the end of his mission - he asked his co-pilot to put the wheels down. This procedure, for this type of landing, is less safe (it’s like a human stubbing his toe). We made a crash landing on dry land, a year later, in our B-17. The correct procedure at that time - for the Army Air Corps “crash landings”, was “Wheels Up”. Sully’s safe landing on the Hudson River almost a year ago, was proof that the wheels up technique worked.
I really related to the movie, It was the story of Lt. Col. (later General) Jimmy Doolittle’s Group’s raid on Japan, with sixteen Billy Mitchell - B-25 bombers, on April 18, 1942. (A year later - 1943 -, General Doolittle headed up the Twelfth Air Force in North Africa. Our Second Bomb Group was under his Command.) My interest in this video was sparked because I also flew B-25’s during the latter part of WWII. I could relate to a lot of the scenes in the movie. Our flight Instructors, at the air base in Douglas, Arizona, where I received my Advanced Pilot training, did the flying scenes in the movie. One of the instructors was Robert Sterling, (He was a handsome devil!). He was married to Ann Sothern, the movie actress. (They divorced in 1949, and he married Anne Jeffries in 1951.) Sterling was born a year (almost to the day) before I was - also a Scorpio. Bob died May 30, 2006, after battling “shingles” for many years.
My instructor showed me how they did the flying for the movie. For the short-run take-off - at the beginning of the runway - he applied the brakes, Then, he ran the two Wright 2600 radial engines up to take-off power - still holding brake pressure. Then, he said “Now!”. I started the flaps down to the “full flap” position, as he had briefed me. As the flaps started down, he released the brakes, and the B-25 lunged forward. At the same time, my instructor pulled the yoke back into his stomach as far as he could. The B-25 lifted off, shortly afterwards. The plane was in a nose-up attitude as it “stalled” off the ground. It was a strange feeling, sitting there in the co-pilot’s seat - in a wobbling plane - trying to gain flying speed and altitude. I can still relate to the experience - “déjà vu, all over again”.
The instructors also practiced “Short-Field” landings - to simulate landing back on the carrier after take-off, if need be. He showed me how they did it. On the final approach to landing, He throttled back, and asked for full-flaps, which I gave him. Then, he increased the engine power until we had an indicated air speed of about 90 mph. It was a strange feeling to be going so slow in a nose-up attitude. In a normal landing, the pilot has a good view of the runway with the lowered nose on the approach. As we reached the end of the runway, my instructor chopped the power. The plane stalled at probably 75 mph, and dropped down for the landing. Both the short-field take-offs and landings were unique for me, not being a Naval aviator.
As he taxied back to the flight line, my instructor said, “I never want to catch you trying those.” You can guess what happened among we student pilots! The B-25 was very forgiving of pilot mistakes. I think, that if the plane was set up properly on the final approach, that it could practically land itself.
The two radial engines were very loud! They also had a very distinctive sound - especially if the pilot hadn’t synchronized the propellers. I will never forget the unique sound of the B-25 engines. When the restored B-25’s are touring to and from the local airports, I can be inside when I hear the B-25 approach, and have no trouble identifying the type of airplane. By the sound. The same thing with the Stearman bi-plane and the B-17. From my many hours of listening to their engines, I remember those sounds, too.

Ray L’Amoreaux
January 3, 2010.

BLUE MOON

2009-12-31T20:21:00.001-08:00

BLUE MOON
I was looking forward to admiring the New Year‘s Eve “Blue Moon” tonight. But it was not to be! We are socked in - preparatory to tomorrow’s forecast of rain. Fortunately, I did get a great view of the Blue Moon -“lite”, last night, from my living room window.
I checked Wikipedia for the explanation of a “Blue Moon”. The write-up explained that most lunar years have twelve full moons which occur in approximate monthly cycles. But, with our Gregorian Calendar- year, there are about eleven additional days. These extra “solar days” accumulate so that 7 times, during this 19 year period (235 moon cycles), there is an extra “blue moon.” At the end of this described 19 year period, the “New Moon” appears on the same day as at the beginning of the lunar cycle. Following, is the “extra” full moon. The full moon originally got it’s name from it’s unusual bluish color. This rare event can be caused by pollution in the atmosphere. Today, the layman calls the second full-moon in a month, a “Blue Moon.”
RCL - 12/31/09.
.

BLUE MOON

2009-12-31T20:21:00.000-08:00

YULETIDE GREETINGS!

2009-12-27T21:09:00.000-08:00

YULETIDE
Well. Christmas is now a memory, but a very nice one.. While there is also sadness, and family tensions, during this Season, all in all, it is a very rewarding experience for most people. I know that I have enjoyed the past few days. Most people that I know, express lots of love and goodwill during this Season.
I always reflect on past Christmases at this time of year. I can recall many nice memories. When our daughters and grandkids were younger, Anne suggested that I “play Santa Claus.” For many years, Anne rented me my red, white and black costume, and without any training, I tried to play the part. If you really want to experience Christmas, don the red suit. I can’t explain my feeling, but I received an emotional boost from the reactions of those that I greeted.
Anne received her moneys worth for the week that I had use
of my Santa suit. I appeared at our grandkids’ second grade classroom, at my Mother’s assisted living facility, and her skilled nursing residence - in succeeding years. I also appeared at Rick’s Christmas -Office Parties. The exchanges with the different ones were very interesting to me. I talked with my Mother, and she didn’t have a clue I was her son. I talked to our grandkids and they looked at me in awe, not recognizing me. Mrs. Brinkman’s class seemed thrilled to have me in their midst. It was interesting when Marie was driving me to my many appearances. People would see me in the car, and wave, or honk their horns - pretty flattering.
Through all of these interactions, I started to get the “Spirit,” and I believed in myself - Santa! I hesitated when Anne first suggested that I “dress up”, but then I realized that I would be experiencing a new role, and I heartily agreed. I am glad that I did. All of us need to get out of our comfortable skin, and try something new and different. (There was the time that I paraded as a female model in a fashion show, but that is another story, for another time!)
It is so rewarding to have family, or friends, to share in celebrating the Holiday Season. Because of them, I didn’t experience the loneliness, or depression, this time of year, that some feel.

Joan and Manny invited me to their Christmas Eve Party. It was very nice, with about 25 family and friends enjoying their festive house - each others’ company - and all the various tasty- dishes of food that people brought. The men did most of the cooking, and their creations were delicious. Melissa and Ryan brought a poker board and shuffleboard game with them from San Diego, along with their dog, Bodie. Jason brought his beagle, Buddy. The dogs kept everyone wide awake as they raced through the living room playing tag! (It used to be the grand kids!). We watched an old DVD, on the big screen, of our grandkids’ “Plays”. It not only was humorous, but well done.
The gift exchange was very interesting and entertaining.
Our instructions were to bring a gift costing less than $25. This open-ended instruction brings out the creativity of people - from the conservative like me to the creative like our host, Manny! There were seventeen “exchangers”. We each drew a number from the paper bag that our hostess Joan passed around. The number we selected was the order in which we picked out our gift. My number was “4”. You could pick from the pile on the floor, or “steal” someone else’s gift. The choosing sounds simple, but it becomes quite intriguing with al of the scheming and “stealing” going on. It seemed like the exchanging would never end. But, after two “steals”, that gift is “dead”, and unavailable for any further “stealing”. When everyone is satisfied with their gift, end of “gifting.” I never was involved in this process before, but it was very interesting, entertaining and enjoyable. When my turn to select came, I went for the smallest package. Initially, this was a good strategy. But, after I opened it, and the participants saw that I had gotten a gift card from Macy’s and a small box of See’s candies, it was a prime stealable.
Sue and Tom gave me a ride home. While we were about the first ones to leave, I didn’t get home until about midnight. I enjoyed Christmas Eve very much.
I arranged to join Marie for Christmas Day-Lunch, at Laurel Creek. I was looking forward to sharing the time and lunch with her. When I entered her room, she was lying down. I wished her a Merry Christmas, and I sat down next to her bed. She reached for my hand, and said “Your hand is cold”. Her hands are always warm, and mine are always cold. (I had just come in from outside). Soon, she let go, and said, “Your hand is heavy”. She never used to complain when we were younger!
I asked Marie if she could remember her nicest Christmas. She thought for a minute, and said they were all nice. Then, I thought, how would I answer, if she had asked me that very same question. I have to say that I would answer the same way. It’s strange though, I remember my two ‘saddest” ones very clearly.
The first of these sad Christmases, away from home, was in 1942. I was stationed in Cut Bank, Montana - 2,000 miles away from Ypsilanti. I was coping quite well with my homesickness, until I heard the choir sing “White Christmas” at Midnight Mass.
My second sad Christmas was after my Dad died on December 21, 1963 (at the age of 73). President Kennedy had been assassinated just a month before my Dad died. My Dad’s funeral was on Christmas Eve. To add to my sadness, it was the first (and only) Christmas that our family didn’t share. Marie and our five daughters, remained in Vallejo, while I flew back to Detroit.
We had just gotten out of the door to Marie’s room, heading for the dining room, and she said “I don’t think I can make it.” So, we returned to her room. I explained the situation to the CNA, and asked if they could bring our meals to her room. This is the first time that I hadn’t eaten with her in the dining room. (I just had lunch with her in the dining room, two days previously, on our Anniversary). So, we made the best of it, and ate together in her room At this stage of life, for your peace of mind, you had better be flexible.
Christmas evening, Mary and Greg invited me to have dinner with them and Daniel. Of course, I accepted. They picked me up, and delivered me back here, at the end of the evening. The dinner, and dessert, were very good (as per usual). The four of us played Scrabble after dinner. I can’t remember the last time that I played that board game. I know that it was a long time ago. The game was stimulating, and I enjoyed it.
Next, on the agenda, is formulating my resolutions for next year.

Ray L’Amoreaux 12/27/09.

WEDDED BLISS - P.S.

2009-12-23T14:44:00.000-08:00

WEDDED BLISS - P.S.
I have just returned from having lunch with Marie. While there, I re-read our Anniversary card from Mary, Greg, Daniel and Jason. Hallmark says it much better than I put forward in the preceding piece. I would like to share it with you.
“ To Mom and Dad:
Because of the two of you,
I know what love is.
It’s patience. It’s sacrifice.
It’s sharing joy
and keeping faith.
It’s what keeps us strong
and helps us find our way.
Because of the two of you,
I know what family is.
It’s laughing. It’s listening.
It’s growing up and
growing together.
It’s being there for each other,
no matter what.
Because of the two of you,
I know that love and family
Are at the heart of a good life
and a lasting marriage.
Because of the two of you,
I’ll always be thankful
for the love we have
and the family we are.”
-----------------------------------
We shared nice lunches in the Laurel Creek dining room. There was a large Christmas tree, and all the decorations.
Lillibeth, the Station Three nurse, stopped by to wish us a Happy Anniversary. She was marveling at our 65 years together.. I asked her if she was married? She said, “Yes”. I told her “to hang in there. the years go by faster than you think.”
Tony Bennett was singing, via the dining room’s excellent P.A. system:
“I’ve Got It Bad, and That Aint Good.”; “I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm”; “Noel”; Baby, It’s Cold Outside”; “Silver Bells”; “Merry Christmas”; “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing”, and, of course, “Rudolph” had to have equal time.
As we were eating our banana cake -dessert, one of the servers asked us if we were ready to share our Anniversary Cake? Talk about over-kill! We passed.
Back in Marie’s room, I tried bringing back old memories. I asked her if she remembered our first Christmas Tree? She thought for quite a while, and then she smiled and said, “Yes”. We spent the first night of our honeymoon staying at the Copper Queen Hotel in Bisby. If you have never been there, you should check it out. Our second night was at the El Conquistador Hotel in Tucson. I can’t remember the room rate, but it wasn’t cheap. It was a very nice hotel - the best that I had ever stayed in. Of course the rate was “American Plan”. (Needless to say, I think that we ate only one meal there. What a waste.)
One of the hotel staff brought us a very nice-little decorated -Christmas Tree, and placed it on top of the dresser. Our first Christmas Tree! To celebrate our 50th Anniversary, we took an Elderhostel trip to Douglas. En-route, we wanted to stay at the El Conquistador Hotel for old times sake. When we got to the area we remembered, we couldn’t find the hotel.. I asked around, and learned that the hotel had been torn down, and a parking lot was built right where we were standing! That’s progress, I guess.
Ray L’Amoreaux
December 23, 1944 - December 23, 2009.

WEDDED BLISS

2009-12-23T10:31:00.000-08:00

WEDDED BLISS.
Marie and I were married sixty five years ago today! She pinned my pilot wings on me that Saturday morning, December 23, 1944, and we were married that afternoon. Both events took place in Douglas Arizona. I am sure that we weren’t visualizing this day, when we looked into each others’ eyes. Marie would be returning to Mills College, and I would be flying in operational training, preparatory to being assigned to the Fifth Air Force in the South Pacific.
We were married in the Immaculate Conception Church. My B-25 instructor was my “Best Man”, and his wife was Marie’s Matron of Honor. Marie met them both for the first (and last) time at the altar. We were fortunate to have Marie’s mother, Ethel, there with us.
Today, December 23, 2009, I will have lunch with Marie at her residence, the Laurel Creek Health Center. I am fortunate that I can visit her each day. When I saw her yesterday, I told her that I would be having lunch with her this noon. I expected her to be pleased. She said, “Well, big deal!”
We hear about wisdom coming from the mouths of babes. How about the frankness coming from the mouth of a wife who has lost 50 per-cent of the brain cells in her frontal cortex? Very interesting.
People ask me what I attribute to our long marriage. You would think, by now, I would have formularized the secret. First of all, one must be blessed with good genes to survive that many years. Two, Lady Luck certainly has to come into play. And three, “you have to be in the moment” - you must have an awareness of the present situation. I have done my best to minimize conflict. But, when that fails you fall back on the trite “give and take” dynamics. Then, you hope and pray for the best outcome. Marie and I have been very fortunate to have liked each other, and to have enjoyed each others company all these many years. That always makes a happy marriage.
So, Good Luck to all of you “short timers.” Marriage - like life - is common sense and hard work. Without it, our culture is experiencing a shameful 50 percent divorce rate! I trust that I am “preaching to the choir”.
Ray L’Amoreaux
December 23, 2009.

GRADUATION DAY

2009-12-21T20:37:00.000-08:00

GRADUATION DAY.
Saturday, December 12, 2009. Today is a big day! Two of my grandsons are graduating! I am very proud to be their grandfather.
Mary and Greg picked me up this morning at Quail Creek, and gave me a ride to the Napa Valley College, where their son, and my grandson, Daniel, was graduating, with the 76th Basic Police Academy Class. Daniel had previously graduated from the University of California - Sacramento, majoring in Criminal Justice. The Police Academy was an extension of his University training. The course was a very demanding “hands on” training. Their discipline reminded me of my Boot Camp. To give you an idea of how rigorous the 22 week course was (880 training hours), the class started on July 11 with 54 cadets. Today, there are only 34 graduating - three of them women! Their ages ran from 20-40, with various backgrounds. The Cadets’ achievement was all the more commendable, when I think of the $6500 tuition fee each of them had to pay. Police Departments used to sponsor the cadets. But, with tight- Public Safety funding in this “Recession” economy, that has stopped.
The graduation ceremony was very impressive. The Dunvegan Pipe Band played, as they led the graduation procession. The Napa Sheriff Honor guard presented the Colors. After the singing of the National Anthem, there was a Moment of Silence to honor all of the Law Enforcement Officers killed doing their job!
Jim Nelson, Class 76 Recruit Training Officer, Addressed the graduates. I remember one of his key points. He said that water at 211 degrees is very hot water, but if you add one more degree it becomes steam. He was illustrating how a little bit of extra effort can make a big difference
Before the Cadets received their certificates, all 34 of the class recited the "Law Enforcement Code Of Ethics" in unison! They spoke with one voice. The "Code" wasn't simple. It covered the 5 by 8 inch back page of the program!
Mary and Greg dropped me off, back at Quail Creed, for lunch and a short respite. Then, Sue and Tom picked me up to attend Jason Torres graduation in Stockton. Jason is Mary and Greg’s son, and the brother of Daniel.. We headed for Stockton about 60 miles to the East for the 4 o’clock ceremony.
Jason graduated from De Vry College in Sacramento, and received his Bachelors degree in Business. After a short work experience, Jason enrolled in the MBA program at the University of the Pacific in Stockton. There were 26 Eberhardt MBA graduates - many of them young women.
Dr. Cynthia Eakin, Associate Dean for Graduate Programs welcomed us. The MBA Student Speaker was Amanda Marchini.
The MBA Staff honored the graduates, and their families, with a very nice dinner at the DeRosa University Center. The building was very nice and inviting. After a great dinner, they presented a video on the big screen of Joe Johnson, one of the school’s retired professors. He couldn’t make the graduation ceremony, and dinner, because he was vacationing in Hawaii!
I was very impressed with some of his remarks, and made a few notes. As I listened to him talk, I had the feeling of what a great experience if I had him for one of my college courses. He inspired me so much that I wished that I had pursued my Master’s degree. I did start the program with six Management units at Cal Berkeley, while I was working at U.S. Steel Company. I decided that I couldn’t continue working, going to school which included commuting from Antioch to Berkeley, and still fulfill my duties as a husband and father. I made the right decision at the time.
I jotted down some of Joe’s remarks:
“Work should be rewarding, including financially and pleasurable. If you are working for an unbearable boss, that you can’t tolerate, then leave. He calls this the “Piss-off” factor. You should always be prepared to go to work. You never know when you will be asked to do something important. When you are given an opportunity, make sure that you show up, and do it well. Be honest and true to yourself. If you don’t know the answer, find out. Earn the right to play. Play a leadership role. You are valued for what you do - not for what you say.”
It must have been rewarding for Daniel and Jason to have so many of their family and friends in attendance, supporting and honoring them.
At the end of the evening, I was tired. Or, as my Mother used to say - “A good tired”. But, my pride, and inspiration, made it all worthwhile.
RCL - 12/21/09.

GOODBYE RELIABLE ONE!

2009-12-20T06:24:00.000-08:00

GOODBYE MY RELIABLE ONE!
I finally decided to sell our Buick, even though I am licensed until November 11, 2012. Joan and I were discussing my emotion on my decision, after driving a car for 75 years. I have mixed emotions. I was sad when Manny said that he had sold our Buick Century (on Craig’s’ List) to the first caller. He is quite a marketing genius, because he sold my Ford Escort to the first caller a few years ago. But, also, I was relieved. No more concern about maintenance, licensing, smogging, insurance and exposure of the car to the weather. What a load off!
Before going to bed for the past 20 months, I have always looked out my bedroom window, and checked on our car parked below. I wanted to make sure that the car was still there, and no one was siphoning the gas - even though we are living in a “gated community”. I still can’t get used to seeing the empty “04”, reserved spot, in our parking lot.
While the Buick had less than 57,000 miles on the odometer, (just broken in !),I have driven, at least the equivalent, of 30 times around the world during my 65 years of licensed driving. As I recall, I received only two tickets for moving violations during all those years of driving.
The first one was in 1937 for “speeding” on Washtenaw avenue, a nice residential area in Ann Arbor (housing many University of Michigan fraternities). The posted speed limit was 35mph, and I was going down the grade at 45! I was late on my way to work. The “stop” was so traumatic that I promised myself that I would never get a speeding ticket again. I kept my promise. That’s why I have the reputation for driving in the slow lane at 55 mph.
The second ticket was a strange one. The military could expect this harassment of the military in the South during WWII. Marie and I were on our way out to the Air Base, in Greenville, SC. I was driving on this long sweeping curve to my left (after all the intervening years, I can still accurately picture it!). The car ahead of me was going about 35mph. The driver stuck his arm out the window and waved me by. I had good visibility, and I could see that the coast was clear. So, I passed him. I hadn’t anymore pulled back into the lane, when he turned on his siren. (It was an un-marked car!). I pulled over on the shoulder and stopped. He came to my window and said that he was giving me a ticket for passing on a curve. He was the typical stereotype, of the Southern police officer, that we all have seen in the movies and in the TV commercials. He told me to appear in Traffic Court on Tuesday. I told him that I was flying on Tuesday. Then, he said, you can give me your $5 fine. I told him that I didn’t have any cash on me. Then, he said, “I’ll follow you out to the Base, and you can get a check cashed at the Officers’ Club.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! So, he followed me out to the Base, and waited for me outside the Officers’ Club, to cash my check. I came back to his car, and gave him a $5 bill. No receipt. So it was bye - bye baby! True story!
During the past 65 years I (or we) have owned twelve cars:- all new except for the first two, and the 1957 Ford.
1924 Model T touring car.
1931 Model A coupe (no rumble seat!)
1940 Chevrolet two door
1941 Chevrolet convertible
1947 Kaiser four door
1952 Chevrolet coupe
1957 Ford - 9 passenger station wagon
1963 Chevrolet II 9 passenger station wagon (Gertrude).
1971 Chevrolet coupe (“Blue Flame”,)
1983 Buick Skylark coupe
1988 Ford Escort two door
1994 BUICK CENTURY!

RCL 12/19/09.

OBSERVATIONS

2009-12-20T06:17:00.000-08:00

OBSERVATIONS
I have just returned to Quail Creek, from visiting Marie at Laurel Creek. I accompanied Marie from her room, down the hallways to the very nice dining room. The Staff has gone all out to make the Holiday Season as nice as possible for the residents. They have gone to a lot of work, decorating the dining room. The Christmas tree is especially attractive. They had Christmas carols playing on the P.A. system. At that moment, Frank Sinatra was singing, “I’ll Be Home For Christmas.” The music stirred my dormant - gut-wrenching emotion that I had experienced during the Christmas of 1942. I was just out of Bombardiering School, and had been assigned to my new B-17 Flying Fortress crew. I was attending Midnight Mass in Cut Bank, Montana. It was my first Christmas away from home. “Home” was over 2,000 miles away in Ypsilanti, as I listened to that carol 67 years ago.
Back to reality, and Laurel creek. I particularly looked at the expressions of the four ladies sitting at Marie’s dining table while the song was playing. I was looking for some sign - however slight - of their past memories of Christmas - thoughts which might have been triggered by Frank’s inspirational carol. I saw none. Their stoic expressions were the same. Apparently, there was no connect. I don’t think it was a hearing problem, as the volume was pretty loud. Then, I wondered just what thoughts that their tortured minds were processing at the moment. I will never know.
As I was cutting through the beautifully decorated Community Center, on my way back, I ran into Mary Anne. She is a very pleasant, warm and personable lady. I first met her while playing bocce, and subsequently, while playing bridge upstairs in the Community Card Room. Mary Anne was sitting on her motorized scooter, and was wearing a beautiful Christmas- red coat. I couldn’t help but notice how warm appearing and pretty it was. I commented on her coat. Mary Anne asked me if I knew how old it was. To me that was a “loaded” question. Similar to Marie asking me if the new dress made her look too heavy? I safely answered her by saying “No”. She said 40 years! (It looked like new!) I told her that it was a good thing that she hung on to it, because now it was back in style. She seemed pleased with my response. I think that my mind was reflecting on “coats,” because, yesterday, my youngest daughter Sue, took me to Our Lady of Mt. Carmel Church, where we donated five of Marie’s nice winter coats to be given to the less fortunate. RCL - 12/19/09.

BLOG

2009-12-14T16:02:00.000-08:00

BLOG
I realize that I have fallen behind on my blogging. Please forgive. I have been so busy, of late, with activities worth blogging about, that I haven’t had the time to actually write the blog!

RCL - 12/14/09.

HOME

2009-12-04T04:25:00.001-08:00

HOME
I never thought much about the definition of “Home” before. I think that home means different things to different people, Home is in the eye of the beholder. Webster defines “Home” with multiple definitions - covering 3 ½ column- inches. Home is a nifty word. It is very flexible and adaptable. The word “Home” can be used as a noun, verb or adverb!
When I was young, home was where my parents and siblings resided. When I was in the Air Force, “Home was still the same place. After Marie and I were married, Home was two places - homes, where we were currently living and each of our former family homes.
The reason that I bring this up is, Marie mentions “home” quite frequently, She and I lived together, here at Quail Creek, for a year before she moved to the Laurel Creek Health Center. When her dementia became worse, she frequently mentioned that she “wanted to go home”. I asked her where home was - expecting her to say “Vallejo”. our prior home. Instead, she surprised me when she said “Where my Mother and sisters are”. The reason that I was surprised, is that all four of them are deceased.
At Laurel Creek, Marie frequently asks me when she can go home? I asked her the same question, and she said “Where you are.” While her reply makes sense to me, I think of “home” where I am physically located.
This “homing” request is not unique to Marie. It seems to go with the territory. I hear the same thing from other residents of Laurel Creek. The solicitations fly in the face of their getting the best care that money can buy - perhaps, except for private in-home care. A fairly new resident appeals to me every day, when I am there visiting Marie. As I approach her in the hallway, as she sits in her wheel chair, she greets me with “Darling will you help me? Will you take me home?” My response is: (I would preface it with the word “darling”, but this probably would not be politically correct) - “You are home”.
After passing, I can hear her make the same request from the next passer-by - be it staff or a visitor.
Marie and I have moved twenty six times during our nearly 65 years of marriage. Were each of these places “homes”? While 26 moves seem like a lot, they were a lot. Many of the moves came during WWII and the Korean Wars, when I was in the Air Force.
Our moves were pretty simple. We threw all of our possessions in the trunk, and back seat, of the car, and we were “moving”. These many moves were offset by a longer stay in Vallejo. We lived 24 years in our first home, and then 22 years in the second one - before we moved to Fairfield in 2008.
So, this Holiday, when we hear the recording of Tony Bennett singing “I’ll Be Home For Christmas”, it will bring back different memories of “home” for all of us.
RCL - 12/3/09.
- 12/4/09.

HELICOPTER PARENTS

2009-11-28T15:52:00.000-08:00

HELICOPTER PARENTS
I just finished reading a very interesting and provocative article in the current TIME magazine (November 30, 2009). It was titled, “Can These Parents Be Saved?”. It was authored by Nancy Gibbs, and she did a very commendable job. I recommend that you read her article, even though it probably doesn’t describe your parenting.
Nancy labeled these over-protective Moms and Dads - “Helicopter Parents”! I flew in a helicopter, as a passenger, recently, and her term for over-protective guardians is most descriptive. They “hover” over their kids! How did our culture wander so far off track in three generations? Parents should be role models and teachers - not micro managers of the human spirit.
Were my Great Depression cohorts short changed by our parents when we were in school during the 1920’s and 30’s? I don’t think so. They taught us by their example. They told us that “this is how it is.” Then, they told us that we were responsible for our conduct, and we would be held accountable for any fall downs. We understood this, and we accepted our parents challenge. I felt good having such responsibility. I wouldn’t do anything to embarrass them.
Even though I was very young, I took my responsibility as a good citizen seriously. I went alone - from Hillsdale to Chicago - a four hour train ride - when I was six years old. Can you picture today’s parent letting their eight year old son go door to door, in the dark of winter afternoons, selling magazines, as I did? I delivered the Hillsdale Daily News when I was 10 years old. I attended Boy Scout meetings at night alone. My Mother didn’t accompany me on Halloween. My friends did.
I was caught chewing gum in my sixth grade class. Our teacher, Miss May, was the Central School principal. I knew better, but I broke the rule. Miss May called me up to the front of her desk. I did as I was bid. She told me to take the gum out of my mouth and place it on the tip of my nose, which I did. Then, she said turn around and stand there until I tell you to go to your seat. Talk about embarrassment! I couldn’t look into the smiling faces of my classmates. I don’t remember how long my torture went on, but it was plenty long for Miss May to make her point!(I very seldom chewed gum after that.) I didn’t go home, crying, and blaming the teacher for my punishment. I knew that if I did, my Dad would back the teacher, and give me a whack for good measure! Today, the child’s mother would go to the School board and claim “child cruelty” and demand that “the teacher be fired for embarrassing their little Raymond.” I held no grudge. Miss May was one on my favorite teachers. I even corresponded with her after moving to Berea (Ohio) at the end of that school year in 1930.
I walked to and from school - including going home for lunch. I walked to Church on Sunday and to Catechism class on Saturday afternoon. Vans, and parent chauffeurs, didn’t exist. My Mother didn’t know how to drive. It didn’t matter, because we didn’t have a car.
I went to St. Mary’s Catholic school in Berea for my seventh and eighth grades. Now there was discipline. Sister Edith was the principal and my teacher. I never got in trouble. Not, because I was a “goody goody”, but because I was a fast learner! I knew the rules and boundaries, and I heeded them. I figured that ‘Life” was much simpler that way. There were a couple of instances that I was a by-stander to unacceptable conduct. My friend “Hoy” was the class clown. Sister apparently, didn’t think that he was as funny as we did. I don’t even remember what happened. But, she called Hoy up to her desk, and said, “Get me the biggest measuring stick that you can find. Hoy came back with a 12 inch ruler. Sister didn’t think it was as funny as we did. She repeated her command. This time Hoy apparently got the message, and brought back the yardstick which was stored in the cloak room. Sister said “Give me your hand. Hoy extended his arm. She grabbed his hand and wound up with the same motion. Then, on her down swing, Hoy pulled his hand from Sister’s grasp, and she hit her leg with the yardstick. I’m sure she didn’t even feel it with her large -hanging rosary and full-flowing black outfit breaking the blow. To say that Sister Edith was upset, was a big understatement, as we all were taking in the “punishment”. Then she took a wild swing at Hoy.
On another occasion, I was in the Boy’s Bathroom in the school basement. I could smell cigarette smoke when I opened the door. There was Sam standing at the urinal next to me. When I first met Sam, I thought that he was an “Eskimo”, but later learned that Sam was a Native American boy (We used the term “Indian” back then.) I think he was 18 years old, and still in the eighth grade! I remember his whiskers. While we both were standing there, I heard the bathroom door open. Then, I heard Sister’s large rosary clanking as she walked toward us. She grabbed Sam by the arm - while he was still in mid-stream - and marched him out of the bathroom. No words were spoken. I have often searched my memory for what happened afterwards, but each time, I draw a blank. Still, Sister Edith was my mentor and role model. I give her a lot of credit for molding my personality and philosophy of life. She was a loyal friend. We still corresponded ten years later, during the months I served in North Africa. Her letters, and prayers, not only boosted my spirit, but I am sure played a big part in my surviving 50 combat missions.
Sister Edith taught a group of 7th and 8th grade students to be altar boys. (alter girls hadn’t been invented back then,) She not only taught us our Latin responses to the priest, but also all of our serving routine. They say that “if the student hasn’t learned, the teacher hasn’t taught”. Sister taught and I learned. I looked forward to being assigned to serve weddings, because the groom usually tipped us. But, funerals were another story. I guess it wasn’t proper to tip altar boys for funerals - even though our duties were about the same. Too sad, I guess.
I remember how I sweated out report card time. I would bring my card home from school and debate which parent to ask to sign it - depending on their mood. Today - if they still have “Report Cards”, the parents probably grade their kids and their kids may sign off.! Today, I can’t imagine parents who protest the grades on their kid’s homework and special projects. The term “homework” in PRE-SCHOOL today, didn’t exist in my day. Our Mothers taught pre-school.
Today, parents are obsessed about their child’s safety and success. When I was in the seventh and eighth grades, during the summer months, I would put a peanut butter sandwich in my pocket in the morning, and roam all over town with my friends. Granted, it was a small town - population about 5,000. We weren’t into vandalizing, but to entertain ourselves. We would also take our bats, balls and gloves and challenge kids on the other side of town to a pick-up game. Afterwards, we would go “skinny-dipping” in an abandoned- sandstone quarry - 300 feet deep with COLD water. It’s a wonder we didn’t cramp up and drown! Swimming was fun. But, sometimes when we got out, our clothes were missing. Our “friends” snuck up and hid them. The heli- folks would freak out if this happened today - with no life guard. It wasn’t a case of my parents not being fearful for my safety, it was a case of not knowing where I was, or what I was doing. Apparently, they trusted my judgment - even at that tender age. I know that they cared.
Today, parents use the computer, TV and electronic games to entertain (and baby sit) their kids. What happened to Erector Sets, Tinker Toys, Lincoln Logs and Lego toys?
I didn’t receive an allowance when I was growing up. If I wanted “spending” money, I was expected to earn it. Today’s parents must feel that if they don’t give their kids everything they want, they won’t love them. So be it. Let them work and earn their own money. They will appreciate the value of their spending more. Why contribute to a tobacco or drug habit? The world has enough problems!
I don’t want to leave the impression that I was self-raised. To the contrary. My sister Jeanne and brothers Bob and Jack got plenty of attention and TLC from our parents. They guided, and trained us, to be good citizens. They encouraged us to do our very best - that’s all they expected of us. “Over-achieving” wasn’t in their vocabulary. My parents never attended any of my high school sporting events, or my band concerts. I can’t remember whether they attended my high school graduation or not. But, they certainly were there for me during World war II. They came out from Ypsilanti to Victorville, when I graduated from Bombardiering School. They wrote to me often during the seven months that I was overseas.
During all of this dialogue, I don’t want to give the impression that I have been the perfect parent for my five daughters. For example:-
I always took my youngest daughter Sue with me when I got a haircut. The first thing that she would do in the barber shop was go to the magazine rack. She would pick up a copy of “Playboy”, sit on the floor, and start turning the pages. John (my barber) would go over and gently take it from her, and hand her a comic book in return. He hadn’t any more returned to his barbering chair, than Sue would put the Comic Book down and pick up the Playboy!
In closing this essay, I would like to quote from Nancy Gibb’s conclusion to her article - a quote that D.H. Lawrence made back in 1918 - the year of my birth! “How to educate a child. First Rule: leave him alone; Second Rule: leave him alone; Third Rule: Leave him alone; That is the whole beginning.” (Nancy goes on to say, “Of course, that was easy for him to say. He had no kids.”)
RCL - 11/28/09.

GREAT EVENING

2009-11-25T19:07:00.000-08:00

GREAT EVENING
Last Saturday evening (November 21, 2009) was one of the big highlights of the year for me. Eleven male members of our family had dinner together, here at Quail Creek. The original prompt was for we seven “Scorpios” to celebrate our birthdays together. Then, I thought it would be nice to include Brad - even though he is a Taurus. (He got in under the wire! A delay of Brad’s birth one more day, would have moved his astrological sign to a “Gemini” - the same as his Grandmother Marie). Not only would it be nice to see Brad, but he could join his Dad Rick, and Brother Doug, in the celebration of their birthdays.
Then, Brad asked if he could bring his boys Colton and Trenton. I hadn’t thought of that, and I am glad that he suggested it. Then, I thought, why not include the whole Maher clan! So, I told Doug that his sons were also welcome. Fortunately, after my late invitation, Jobey, Bailey and Dakota could make it. Tom, Greg and I rounded out the group.
I had reserved our small special dining room with David, the Dining Services Director. It worked out well. The eleven of us sat around the very large table. I am proud of my five great-grandsons. They were comfortable ordering from the large menu. Brad may have helped his son Colton(9) order salmon, and Bailey helped Trenton(7) order chicken tenders. Dakota(12) sat on my right, and he ordered lamb chops from the menu. Erika, a friend and co-worker of Katy’s, was our server. It was a It was labor intensive to take our orders and serve us, but she was very pleasant and helpful, and did a great job. She knows Tom and I so it wasn’t as stressful for her. When Dakota cut into his lamb chop, it was quite “bloody”, and he mentioned it to me. I told him to tell Erika and she would return it to the kitchen, and the chef would cook it some more. So he did. He told her, “I know that I ordered it “rare“, but this is bloody!” Erika did as she said she would, and Dakota was happy.
After a nice dinner and dessert, Greg asked if they would like a tour of the facility. They agreed. So, all eleven us walked around and saw the swimming pool and hot tub; (naturally, the great-grandsons were impressed), the ball room -dancing room, the fitness room (with all of it various exercising equipment);the billiard room; and the wood-working shop.
Then, I asked them if they would like to see where grandpa lives. Of course, they wanted to see my apartment - hardly large enough for all eleven of us to fit).It didn’t take long to tour my area. The way that they studied the photos( they were in many of them) and memorabilia, they must have thought that I lived in a museum.
They all left about eight o’clock, after a nice evening. I enjoyed their visit. I hated to see them go. I checked all of my closets to make sure there were no stowaways! I should have known better, after stuffing all of my “stuff” in them.
RCL - 11/24/09.

WEST POINT

2009-11-24T10:34:00.000-08:00

WEST POINT
It is nice to start the day with a little bit of levity. At breakfast this morning, I was admiring my seatmate’s jacket. It was black, with gold circles on the cuffs. It was really spiffy. I hadn’t seen it before - in the year and eight months that I have been here at Quail Creek.
I asked Ray if it was new. He said “No, I got it in 1935 when I was at West Point!” I thought, how could a garment - almost 75 years old - look so nice? Then, I noticed the block- gold large “A” emblem on the left side of his jacket.. I asked him about that. Ray said that was for beating Navy! I told him that was the last time that Army beat Navy. He didn’t respond. I don’t think he heard me.
Our server was tuning in to all of this conversation. Rosie volunteered “I wasn’t even conceived by 1935”. I asked Ray about Army’s colors. He didn’t understand me, and turned to his wife, Jean, to interpret for him. She repeated what I had asked him, but he still didn’t comprehend. (He usually does a good job in reading her lips.) Then, I noticed that his hearing aid was barely hanging on to his left ear. So, I Googled “West Point colors”, and learned that Army’s colors are black and gold.
After breakfast, I was relating this little episode to one of our young servers, because I thought that she would be interested. Wrong! She wasn’t familiar with West Point. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. A sheltered life or generations gap? Or both!
Ray and Jean are my role models. They celebrated their 69th wedding Anniversary this month! (Yes, they were married in Seattle in 1940!) Jean was 19 and Ray 26 - my age, when Marie and I were married 65 years ago. We are short-timers! Needless to say, I enjoy their company very much.
I enjoyed playing bridge yesterday in the Community Center - Card Room. We had three tables - eight ladies and four men. I got fairly good cards for a change. In one round, my partner and I scored 650 points to our opponents 550. Yet, we didn’t play any of the six hands!
RCL - 11/24/09.

THANKFUL

2009-11-22T15:22:00.001-08:00

THANKFUL
Peggy Noonan, A Wall Street Journal essayist, wrote a provocative column in the November 21-22 issue of the Journal. (“Still Here After a Rough Year.”) She described responses, she received from friends - “for what are you thankful? The responses to her were varied and quite diverse. After reading her column, I started reflecting on my thankfulness. Only then, did I realize how much I took for granted!
---- I am thankful for reaching the age of 91, and in relatively good health. It has permitted me to spend time in support of my dementia tormented wife, and to reflect on 65 years of our happy marriage. While Marie’s quality of life is poor, she has made my life much richer. When I hold her warm hand, and kiss her soft-warm lips - many good memories flow. All is well.
---- I am thankful for my family. They have been very understanding and supportive. They are my most valuable asset!
---- I am thankful for my exposure to the Western National Parks and Monuments The great uplifting experience put me in touch with my spiritual being. My eyes and heart wee opened to forgotten beauty. I was so fortunate to be part of such a spiritual environment.
---- I am thankful that my mind can still recall so many emotions and memories from my long-ago past. I was able to re-live these experiences as I recalled them in writing my Blogs.
---- I am thankful to have been invited to participate in my oldest grand daughter’s wedding.
Have you reviewed your “gratitude” on this 389th Thanksgiving Day?
RCL - 11/22/09.

SULLY

2009-11-21T12:52:00.000-08:00

SULLY
My daughter Mary, and her husband Greg, gave me “Sully ” Sullenberger’s new book (“Highest Duty”) for my birthday. You may think that I am being presumptuous, in using the famous pilot’s nickname. But, when you consider his first name is “Chesley”, it makes sense. I didn’t realize that he had written a book (in conjunction with Jeffrey Zaslow). My first thought was, “another famous person getting on the bandwagon, and writing a book. (See Sarah Palin’s “Going Rogue”.) These days, it’s just a foregone conclusion. Too, there’s no equivalent to the exposure that one gets on Oprah’s Show. (Can the movies be far behind?).
I started to read Sully’s book, and it was so interesting, that I have a hard time putting it down. I am really impressed. It is very well written. (I am not sure whose words they are). Too, I can relate to a lot of Sully’s descriptions of his experiences and emotions. I am wondering why, when there is a 33 year -age difference between us. His Dad, and I, are cohorts! A lot of my identification with Sully’s writing can be explained, because we were both former military pilots. I can relate to a lot of his flying emotions and experiences - even though I had only a small percentage of his nearly 20,000 flying hours. We both have been exposed to similar theory of flight, and emergency procedures. I relate, too, to his life experiences - not because “I’ve been there - done that”, but because we both have been exposed to similar life experiences. After reading the book, I would classify Sully as a complicated and dedicated person, and a very skilled flyer.
I can still remember an event I had in the Army Air Corps - as if it had happened yesterday - rather than 65 years ago. We were flying dual, during my Primary flight training. I was fortunate to have John Langdon, as my instructor, riding in the rear seat. John had seen, and done it all. He was older - or a synonym - “more experienced.” John had flown the U.S. Mail. He had crop dusted. He had barn stormed with Tex Rankin (picked up a handkerchief from the ground - flying upside down - with a hook imbedded at the top of the vertical stabilizer! Now, that is about as skillful as you can fly - even compared to the precision formation -flying of the “Blue Angels”.)
One day we were flying near Rankin Field in the Tulare area. At about 3,000 feet, John, from his rear seat, chopped the throttle, and I lost the power of the engine. This was a common practice of Instructors, and it was a “signal” for me to start looking for the best place to put the Stearman down. In a simulated forced landing. I would pick the flattest - largest- field, free of obstacles like high voltage- power lines. Then, I would try and determine the direction of the wind ( from blowing smoke or such), and then set up my approach and landing plans. Remember, this is “dead stick” - no engine power. The prop is barely wind milling. It is very quiet. I am descending about 300 feet per minute to maintain our flying speed above “stalling”. All the time, I was very observant for other aircraft and obstacles in the vicinity, while descending. In his book, Sully calls it “situational awareness”. A lot of judgment is involved in knowing your altitude, by checking your altimeter, so that you can dissipate the height through your “downwind,” “base” and “final approach” legs.” You don’t want to land “long”, or “short” of the field. When I was about to touch down, John would advance the throttle, and the Lycoming radial engine would roar to life, once again. I was air-born, in a slow climb. Needless to say, the adrenalin was really flowing as if it were the real thing. I still remember John’s counseling, as I climbed out from the open field. John told me, through our inter-com tube, “Never stretch a glide! Maintain your flying speed, even if you have to plough into a stone wall. You will have a better chance for survival, than if you pull back on the stick to fly over the wall, and stall the aircraft. In a stall. You will head into the ground nose first (This is why we practiced “stalls” at higher altitudes. So, that we would recognize the feel of the “sloppy’ stick during the stall, and initial recovery.) Fortunately, I never had to apply John’s admonition. But, if I had, I know that I’d been prepared for the best outcome. This is why I remember John’s words, back in 1944, to this day. Again, “situational awareness.” I remembered my “dead stick“- landing training, when I heard about Captain Sullenberger landing his powerless Air Bus in the Hudson River, on January 15, 2009. His US Airways airliner hit a flock of geese shortly after the First Officer took-off from La Guardia. While my dead-stick landing -training and Sully’s water landing were far from being the same, the technique employed was similar, and there was his emotion, during the let-down, that I could relate to.
So much of Sully’s life seemed to parallel a lot of mine, even with our age difference. I could relate to his thoughts, sights and emotions. He and his wife Lorrie adopted two girls. I could even relate to this event. Marie and I didn’t have our first child until nearly seven years after we were married. In the meantime, we had given up on “coupling,” and placed our “request to adopt” with the “Children’s Home” in Oakland. The year was 1950. They accepted our request, and made visits to our home in Antioch. (I was working for U.S. Steel, as an Industrial Engineer, at the time). The Home’s approval of our adoption request seemed imminent. But, when the Home’s representative learned, during one of her visits to our home in the spring of 1951, that I had been recalled by the Air Force, as a pilot, during the Korean War, she “nixed” our adoption. She said that, “The Home couldn’t place a child in a potentially fatherless home!”. We were both very devastated by the bad news. At that very time, Marie was experiencing an upset stomach. We both thought that she was coming down with the flu. A friend of ours said, “Marie, do you think that you might be pregnant?” Our friend was very prophetic. Marie found out later, that she was indeed pregnant with Anne.
Back to Sully. Our backgrounds differ in that his Dad was a very good self-taught carpenter. He even built their home - with the help of his wife, daughter and Sully. My Dad didn’t have those same “hammer” skills so I never learned them . But, my Mother was good with the tool. Our daughter Mary is “hammer wise”, too. She must have inherited my Mother’s “hammer” genes.
Sully grew up in Texas, which is a long way from Michigan and Ohio, where I grew up. Still, we had similar experiences growing up. His parents instilled responsibility and accountability in Sully as my parents did in me. Sully’s parents gave him a rifle at a young age. They taught him gun safety and responsibility for his actions. My parents let me work at a very young age - 9 or 10 years old - selling magazines, door to door. In the winter, I would be delivering magazines in the dark. (This was before Daylight Saving Time.) In the summer, I would put a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in my pocket, and be gone all day. We would play a pickup game of baseball with kids on the other side of town, “skinny dip” in the deep, cold water in an abandoned sandstone quarry, in Berea, Ohio, or, we would just hang out at each others’ houses. (Our Mom’s were all home in those days.)
Sully spoke of “hazing” at the Air University, before he graduated. I could relate to that, having gone through the Aviation Cadet program twice during WWII - once for bombardier training and once for pilot training.
The author mentioned that his first airplane ride was out of Dallas in a Convair 440. This is an improved model of the military version, the T-29 - a twin-engine turbo prop. I flew this airplane out of Mather Field for two years, during the Korean War. It was easy to fly, and very forgiving of pilot errors.
Sully also mentioned a few times in his book that the flying schedule of an airline pilot is not conducive to a normal family relationship. As a pilot you are gone a lot. Sully mentioned being gone for four days flying different legs on the East Coast. Too, he was commuting to his hub in Charlotte, from San Francisco.
I can verify his conundrum of trying to balance career and family life. While flying out of Mather field, I was gone just a couple of nights. Because of the heavy tule fog in the Sacramento area, the base was closed to air traffic. One time, they diverted me to Travis, and another time to Merced AFB. Just being gone was very traumatic for Anne - a year old. When I did return home she would cry! - a “stranger” in the house! So, when my 21 month recall was over, I wanted to stay in the Air Force as a career - primarily, because I enjoyed flying. (And the pay was good). But, Anne’s pediatrician suggested that I leave the Service because such a life was too traumatic for our daughter. His suggestion was enough for me to resign my commission and return to civilian life. I complained later to Marie about my decision. She told me that I made a good decision. If I had signed on for an extension of my active duty, I would have gone to Korea and been “killed in action”. She was probably right. I no longer second guessed my decision. I had peace of mind.
“Highest Duty” really illustrates how one person can make a difference. The book also depicts how many lives Sully touched. My parents apparently instilled his same philosophy of life in me. I have tried to live by the very same credo, I truly believe that it is our duty to use our God-given talents, and ingenuity, and make our best effort to help our fellow man, in order to help make the world a better place than it was, when we entered.
I have flown in a few flights on US Airways and PSA (absorbed by US Airways). I wonder if Sully piloted any of those flights?
I heartily recommend your reading “Highest Duty”. Parts of your life, and philosophy, will resonate with Sully’s, I’m sure. Your spirit will be lifted up, and you will never look at “Life” the same way again!
RCL - 11/20/09.

SHORT SUBJECTS

2009-11-19T10:12:00.001-08:00

SHORT SUBJECTS
Well, our six week- extended schedule for Bocce Ball is over. I am already looking forward to next Spring, when we are due to start up again. I really enjoyed the game. I not only learned a new sport (sort of ), but I met a lot of nice people, that I wouldn’t otherwise have known.
I played bridge yesterday, We had a good turnout - four tables. I got better cards and bid, and played them, fairly well. Virginia (our Leader) gave me my $1 entrance fee from a previous session. This was one of the prizes - one you don’t want to get. It was for “Low” score!
Mary took me to Target recently to make my annual Christmas card run. That was a start. You say that I am “early”? This project is labor intensive - as you all know. With about 120 names on my list, the project is overwhelming. So. In the interest of good “time management” (it’s a good thing that I am retired) I have started the process early, and have broken it down to “stages” - Write Christmas Letter; Address envelopes; Sign cards; Stuff envelopes with cards, and letter, and seal; Stamp and “address label” cards; sort into “Local” and “Out of town”, and Mail.
So, when I spread these tasks over the next month - a little each day - it will be manageable and I won’t have that “Holiday Blues” feeling and can relax and enjoy the Season. I hope that you will, too.
RCL - 11/19/09.

VETERANS' DAY

2009-11-14T09:28:00.001-08:00

ARMISTICE DAY!
Today is “Veterans Day.” It is an off-shoot from “Armistice Day.” The first such Armistice Day, was on November 11, 1918. The day was also known as “Remembrance Day” The day was very significant! Not because I was born on that day, but because it commemorated the signing of the document calling for the halt of all fighting between the Allies (the U.S., France; Great Britain; Canada and other friendly countries) and Germany - the Western Front. The “Armistice” was signed at 11 A.M. (Paris time) “the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month”, in Compiegne, France, ending World war I. I was born 20 minutes later (0620 local time)) in Hillsdale, Michigan.
Armistice Day was re-named “Veterans Day on November 8, 1954.
Today, my family treated me to a day in San Francisco for my 91st birthday. Sue picked me up here at Quail Creek at 8;15, and drove over to Mary’s where we met Mary, Joan, Manny and Brittney. Mary drove her car, and Manny his to Vallejo. We got to the Ferry building about 9 o’clock. This meant an hour wait before our scheduled 10 o’clock departure. By the time they purchased the tickets, and grabbed a mini-breakfast at the café’, it was time to line up to board.
Baylink Ferries has four vessels - “Vallejo”; “Mare Island”, “Intintoli”, and “Solano”. (Our boat was the “Solano”). “Vallejo” was the first boat in the fleet, purchased about 20 years ago. It is much smaller and slower than the other three. It was a case of the old Army game, “Hurry up and wait”. Instead of leaving on -time, the Captain delayed departure for five minutes - to allow “always- late runners” to board. Their time was more important than ours. I was grousing, and Joan commented “Dad, what if that were you running?’ Good point! But, I could never picture that happening. (I missed a plane connection once on a business trip. I promised myself that it would never happen again!) The Captain reversed the engines at 10:05 and we started to back out of the slip.
We headed South down the Mare Island Channel. We poked along, at 5mph for ten minutes, to prevent bank erosion from the wake at a faster speed. The threat of shoreline damage wouldn’t be so critical if there weren’t homes and industrial development at the waters edge. We passed the former Sperry Flour Mill. A developer had planned on converting the building to apartment units, but I think that his project has stalled, due to the slow -down in the economy.
As we reach the mouth of the channel, the Captain “pours on the coal”. Soon, the catamaran vessel’s hulls are on the step, and we are barreling along at about 34 knots (40 mph). The water is calm, and provides a smooth ride. It was cool and overcast when we left, but the weather is improving as we move southbound. We pass Angel Island, and I can see Mt. Tamalpaius in the background. We pass under the Richmond -San Rafael Bridge, and soon I can see the outline of the Golden Gate Bridge off to the right.
We pulled in to the Ferry Building dock at 11:03. While waiting, during our 10 minute stop, I checked out the skyline in front of me. I saw the U.S. Bank building. I worked on the 19th floor there for 14 years, before retiring from California and Hawaiian Sugar Company (C & H Sugar Co.) To the right was the four Embarcadero buildings. Across from the Ferry Building - and next to the Bank building was the Hyatt Regency Hotel - with the revolving restaurant on top. A little beyond was the unique design of the Transamerica Building (the Pyramid). I last saw it on my thrilling helicopter ride six weeks ago. I saw a lot of these buildings being constructed, from my office window. Very distracting!
We backed out of the dock at 11:13 and headed northwest along the picturesque waterfront. The piers were empty - no cruise ships or military vessels docked. A 17 minute ride and we pulled in to Pier 41 at 11:30.
Joan had made reservations at Scoma’s for 12:15. So we slowly started our four block walk to the restaurant, The scenery on the streets in the area are not only very interesting, but some are real attention grabbers! For example: We walked by a guy sitting with a beer stein in front of him. His hand printed sign said “I won’t lie, I need a beer”. Not too far beyond him was another guy - smiling and younger. He was standing holding his sign for all to see - “I’m bored. My nuts itch. I need a shower. Please help.” His “collection container” was at his feet.
We passed Boudin Bakery. This is a landmark at Fisherman’s Wharf. It has been here for as long as I can remember (65 years!). The bakery is known for it’s Sour Dough French Bread. The bakery was opened in 1849 by Isidore Boudin, whose family came from France, as did mine - on my Dad’s side. Mary and I were wondering if Boudin still had to use the original sour dough -starter. Mary checked it out at Wikipedia and found our answer: The bakery still uses the same yeast-bacteria culture it developed during the California Gold Rush of 1849. If you haven’t tasted their delicious French Bread, it should be on your “to-do” list. Your experience will be well worth the trip to San Francisco’s Fisherman’s Wharf.
My sister Jeanne, and husband Bob, would visit us quite often in Vallejo. When I asked them what they would like to do, it was always “Fisherman’s Wharf and Ghirardelli Square.” At Fisherman’s Wharf, we would head for the Baudin Bakery. There, Bob would get his clam chowder “fix”. I think the novel hollowed-out loaf of French bread, filled with soup, was what he liked. Afterwards, we would head over to Ghirardelli Square for Jeanne to have her hot fudge sundae, at the Ghirardelli Soda Fountain & Chocolate Shop. Of course Marie and I enjoyed their “favorites” along with them.
In 1893, Domingo Ghirardelli bought the city block to make it into a headquarters for his chocolate company. In the early 60’s, Golden Grain Macaroni bought the complex, and moved the candy company’s headquarters to another location, and sold the property. The property was developed into a center of retail shops and restaurants. It opened as Ghirardelli Square in 1964. There have been many changes since, and Jeanne and Bob (nor we) would recognize the area. It is listed on the National Register of Historical Places.
Back to Wednesday. We continued walking past the large vats boiling crab on the corner, and past many fishing boats docked below the sidewalk. Scoma’s has it’s own street, and sits way in the back adjacent to the water on Pier 47. If you didn’t know that it was there, you would miss it. I had been there a couple of times before. They were very nice experiences. This is why I wanted to return. At the end of our very nice lunch, our personable waiter brought us dessert. In my piece of the chocolate tart was a lone lighted candle. He led the singing of “Happy Birthday” to me. I experienced a very warm feeling. I had no trouble blowing out the candle.
Later, I was reading Scoma’s brochure. It described their Fish Receiving Station. I wish that we had known about it. The write-up sounded interesting. I would have liked to have seen the Station. Maybe next time!
A slow stroll back to Pier 41. The biggest attractions were a fellow (Stephen Dreyfuss) playing his alto saxophone and singing. He was quite good. So good, that Mary and Joan bought his CD’s. Just beyond him, was the “Skeleton Man.” He looked grotesque in his spooky outfit. Many would tip him, and then pose with him in many different configurations - while friends and/or family snapped their pictures with camera phones.
We had a little time before our ferry arrived. Some of us sat watching people feed the gulls and pigeons. Others walked over to Pier 39 to see the lounging seals, lying on their floating platform. There were more of them than usual, and their over-crowding is presenting a “thinning” problem.
Our “Intintoli” ferry came in around three o’clock, and we loaded and left the Pier at 3:12. A ten minute run down to the Ferry Building where we picked up some early commuters. We backed away from the dock at 3:32. The Captain spun the boat around on a dime, with the boats side thrusters, and we headed North to Vallejo.
We got a good view of the new East Span that they are constructing next to the Bay Bridge. Then, a good view of Treasure Island. It was man-made - especially for the Golden Gate Expositions of 1939 and 1940. I took a trip out from Ypsilanti, to see the Fair in the summer of 1940, and I was really impressed. I spent a week in San Francisco, spending all of my time at the Fair. I stayed at the YMCA Hotel on Turk Street, and as I remember, I paid 50 cents a day! I walked back and forth to the Ferry building to catch the ferry. It ran from the Ferry Building the short distance, (probably a couple miles), over to Treasure Island. The price of the ferry included the admission to the Fair, I can’t remember the amount - probably 50 cents.
There was another small group on our return trip on the ferry. They were celebrating an older lady’s 90th birthday. So, I wished her a “Happy Birthday”. We both flashed our nonagenarian smiles (“Been there, done that”.) As the ferry was about to enter the Mare Island Channel, I could see the C & H Sugar Refinery below the Carquinez Bridges, at Crockett. I spent seven years there, working in the Methods and Standards Department.
As we started to slow down I spotted the Maritime Academy’s training ship - the Golden Bear - off to the right.
We tied up at the Vallejo dock at 4:30 - right on time! What a glorious day! What a day to celebrate my 91st birthday! RCL - 11/13/06.

RHUBARB PIE

2009-11-08T21:10:00.000-08:00

RHUBARB PIE

Strawberry-Rhubarb pie was on the menu for dessert this noon. While I didn’t have any, (I will have it for dinner - if there is any left), I can still recall the taste of my Mother’s delicious rhubarb pie. It is always interesting to me, how my five senses, words or events trigger my brain to recall old memories.
While living at home in Ypsilanti before WWII, our Mother would send us across Osborn Street (along side of our home at 715 Oak Street) to the “woods” to cut wild rhubarb. She would use it right away to make a pie or maybe just a sauce. Either one was a delicacy! Her flakey pie crusts would melt in my mouth. Of course she used lard as one of the ingredients. No one would dare to use this shortening- ingredient today, with all the well known cardiovascular taboos. She didn’t refer to it as “rhubarb“, she called it “pie plant.” I didn’t taste strawberry-rhubarb pie until I moved to California. Speaking of the “Woods”, Mom would also send us over to cut wild asparagus. People would not stoop to do this today, but during the Great Depression, those two items supplemented our diet. Too, they were fresh! After WWII, they chopped down all those beautiful trees, and filled the area with concrete and houses. That was “progress”, I guess.
Again, speaking of pies, my favorites are Boston crème; Key lime; chocolate crème and lemon meringue. Come to think of it, I like all pies - except raisin and mince meat.
I used to make apple pies, after I retired in 1983. I got interested in this because we had a golden delicious- apple tree behind our home in Vallejo. I also made a lot of applesauce, as did my Mother. I tried to use all those apples from our tree. The birds, and the worms helped me, but I did my part!
I read about a Clara Chalmers from Bedford, New Hampshire winning a State contest for “Best Apple Pie.” I wrote and asked her if she would share her prize winning recipe pie with me? I was ready to accept her refusal - for whatever reason. She graciously mailed me her recipe. I thought she was a pretty classy lady to share her prize-winning recipe with a stranger.(She was about 80 at the time, and I was 70). Her recipe was included in the glossy magazine she sent. We became friends, and shared phone calls, letters and Christmas cards. This correspondence went on for over ten years, even after her husband George died. It wasn’t long after that, her daughter phoned me and told me that Clara had died. Even though Clara and I never met (I have often regretted that I didn’t make the effort to go and visit them), I was very sad, and actually experienced an emotion of “Loss”. What strange ways we reach out to other people and touch their life, as well as ours. Our life-experience was that much richer for our chance “meeting.”
RCL - 11/8/09.

THE PACKARD

2009-11-07T18:45:00.000-08:00

NAPA
Mary called and asked me if I would like to take a ride to Napa? We could go to Target, and I could get my Christmas cards while she shopped. Then, we could have lunch. Now, that’s an offer I couldn’t refuse.
She picked me up at 10, and we were off to the beautiful Napa Valley. It was a cool (probably in the 60’s), overcast and dreary day. Rain wasn’t forecast, but being a pessimist, I carried my “brollie”.
After we finished at Target, Mary still had a few things to get at nearby Trader Joe’s. Then, we headed up the Napa Valley. She left
Highway 29 and exited at Yountville. Besides the “Vintage 1870” shopping complex, there are many interesting shops, hotels and restaurants along the frontage road. Then, back on 29 heading north.
Mary stopped between Yountville and St. Helena at the Brix restaurant. There were only a few diners, at noon, when we entered. It was packed when we left the restaurant, an hour and a half later, after having a very tasty lunch. We noticed this beautiful vintage car in the parking lot. Mary asked me what make it was and I told her I thought it was a Rolls Royce (the head lamps- mountings flowed into the front fenders. This was my clue.) Mary drove up next to it, so we could get a closer look, and identify it. A man was sitting in the driver’s seat. (Would you believe that he was on his cell phone?) We didn’t know whether he was the owner, “car sitter”, the chauffeur, a by-stander or a car thief. The man rolled down his window and Mary asked him about the make and vintage (this is a good word to use in the middle of the Napa Valley!). He said that it was a 1947 Packard. I don’t remember ever having seen one just like it. It certainly was a beauty, and worth far more than it cost new, over 60 years ago!
I was reading the Wall Street Journal last night. I came across a front page -story about a dump truck, being pushed out the fourth floor window of an abandoned Packard auto plant- building in Detroit, by a bunch of idiots! I was startled! I had been in that very same building, a few times, seventy years ago! It was located on East Grand Boulevard. It was an old plant when I visited it in 1939. (The brick plant was constructed in 1907, Packard closed it in 1956.) I was in the plant, to trouble -shoot, and repair, some convertible-top assemblies that didn’t properly fit the Packard convertibles. In Ypsilanti, I worked for Motor State Products Company. We assembled the slat-iron frameworks for automatic tops for many different makes of convertibles. These assemblies included the header bars and the hydraulic cylinder, lines and control units. When I started to work there in 1939, I was earning 25 cents an hour. A little later, the UAW organized the plant, and my wage doubled to 50 cents an hour. The owner was a German engineer, who designed the automatic convertible top system. I can’t recall his name, but I think it started with a “G” or a “K”.
Of course, I had to have a convertible. I bought a maroon Chevrolet - red leather seats; black top; white sidewalls and rear-fender skirts. It was a beauty, too. Price $995!
Well back to reality. We returned to Fairfield. It was a routine trip to end a very nice outing.
RCL - 11/07/09.

WILD WEST SNOW

2009-11-03T19:48:00.001-08:00

WILD WEST SNOW!
I toured through Colorado, Wyoming, South Dakota and Utah, a little over two months ago. We lucked out and had very nice weather. It was hard for me to visualize the treacherous weather that they experienced in those areas last week.
I flew into Denver in August, in nice weather, to catch the Tour. I couldn’t believe that the beautiful airport was closed last week, due to snow. Transportation officials also closed Interstate 25 (which we traveled) from Wellington, Colorado to Cheyenne - a stretch of 35 miles. That section re-opened later in the week, We took Highway 85, north of Cheyenne, on our way to Rapid City, It remained closed at week end. No snow in sight when our bus drove through this area!
Gusts of 50 mph blew through our tour area, and it received 3 feet of snow, with higher drifts across the whole area. The wind and snow reduced visibility to zero. When I was there, I could see forever across those prairies. Many main routes through the area were closed, they were too treacherous to drive on. Apparently, those miles and miles of snow fences that I saw, were overwhelmed by the blizzard.
Deadwood, S.D. (where Kevin Costner owns the “Costner Poker Parlor”) got about 15 inches of snow! Officials shut down nearby Mount Rushmore National Memorial. I am thankful that it was “Open’ when I was there. At last week -end, winter-weather advisories remained in effect for southeast Wyoming.
When you are on vacation, you are at the mercy of Mother Nature. Luck and timing are critical.
RCL - 11/3/09.

BILL

2009-11-01T14:38:00.001-08:00

BILL
Wishing you a “Spooky’’ Halloween. This morning, at breakfast, I saw a couple salute each other with raised glasses of prune juice. This must have been an omen for an interesting day.
Just after lunch, I received a phone call. I debated whether to answer, figuring that it was another recorded political spiel - before Tuesday’s election. I did answer, and was pleasantly surprised. Calling, was Bill Foley. He said that he was approaching the gate to our Paradise Valley Estates complex, and would like to visit with me. I had never met Bill, but I had communicated with him via e-mail. After I recovered from my surprise call, I called Security at the Gate to let him in.
The reason I was surprised is that Bill lives in Cowgill, Missouri - 2000 miles away! We crash -landed our B-17, near Braymer, Missouri, (near Cowgill) on February 25, 1943. During our few days “layover’, I met and dated his Aunt Ruby Foley a few times. Bill said that he was three years old at the time. He also said, that he heard his grandmother mention “Junior L’Amoreaux” many times when he was growing up So many times, that he decided he wanted to meet me during his lifetime. An aside - My fellow officers (pilot Ken, co-pilot Doug and navigator Ray) gave me my nickname because I was the youngest of the four of us.
Bill said that he and his wife were out this way to visit a long-time friend of hers in Turlock - a two hour drive from here. I was surprised how familiar he was with the local area, until he told me that he had been stationed at Travis Air Force Base nearby. Too, the GPS system in his van-motor home was a big help.
During our conversation, he said that he lived about a mile from Bill Pollard in Cowgill, and they are both members of the American Legion in Braymer. I have communicated with the latter Bill through the years - by e-mail and telephone - even though we haven’t met either. Bill P. was on his way to school that morning, passing by our wheels- up B-17 in a local cornfield!
Two screenwriters (John and Bill) are working on writing up our “landing” - and the interaction of our crew with the people of Braymer - during the five days we were their “guests”. John and Bill have interviewed all the people that I have mentioned above, about their recollection of that fateful morning.
So, we all should pay attention. When we plan our days, no telling what surprise we may not have included in those plans. RCL - 10/31/09.

CLARK BARS

2009-10-24T12:26:00.000-07:00

CLARK BARS
My daughter, Sue, brought me a bunch of Clark Bars this evening. Sue has a heck of a memory! She remembered the story of my boyhood. The fact that I’ve probably told it so many times may have helped her recall!
I guess there’s no harm in repeating it. I’m sure that some of you probably aren’t familiar with it.
When I was 10 and eleven, (back in 1928-9), I delivered newspapers for the Hillsdale (MI) Daily News. I delivered papers every day except Sunday. I made sure that my customers received it - rain/snow or shine. Fortunately, it was an afternoon paper, rather than an early morning edition. I would pick up my papers at the paper- printing plant after school during the school year, or on a summer afternoon. I can still hear the roar of the presses, and smell the paper, ink and oil, from the hot presses. I can’t remember how I got the papers at the plant. They must have been bundled by route number. If the weather was nice I would fold the individual papers as I walked from house to house. But, if it was raining or snowing - or just plain freezing - I would sit on the floor of the plant and fold most of them. The paper only had four pages so folding was very easy. I would fold the paper so that it was a third as wide. Then, I would insert the bottom into the top - ending up with a nice compact little square package. They were easy to pack into my bag and easy to throw on to the porches. When it was freezing cold in the winter, I hated to leave the warm and cozy building.
I eventually saved $25 from my earnings, and bought my first, and only, bike - a 26 inch- wheel Hawthorne. I used the bike to deliver the papers, whenever the weather permitted. I had to fold al the papers before I left the plant. I probably had a hundred customers. So, my paper bag was stuffed full when I started. I would place the full bag on top of the handle bars, and head out.
When walking, it was easier to launch the folded paper on to the porch. I got pretty skilled side-arming the papers on to the porches. But, the arc (similar to a moving Frisbee) was pretty tricky, and hard to learn. But, if windy, when walking, or riding my bike, it was pretty hard to hit the target. When sailing the paper you had to “lead” - throw ahead of the porch, with the wind/motion affect. I would like to see the mathematical equation for the trajectory. While a few of my errant tosses ended up on the roof of the porches, I never remember breaking a window. Compared to today’s newspaper delivery service (or no service), in the bushes or gutter, I gave my customers very good service. One advantage that I had, I didn’t have to put the papers in a plastic sleeve during inclement weather.
The paper cost 15 cents a week. I don’t remember, but I probably received two cents of this. I collected on Saturday mornings. With the money, the customer would hand me their card, and I would punch out the date with my paper punch. There are always the “cheats” and “skinflints”.
One old guy would always ask if I had change for a “twenty” - for a 15 cent payment! (This was during the Great Depression). He knew that I didn’t. After hearing the same question for a couple of weeks, I realized that I was a slow learner. The next Saturday, not only did I “collect” from him last, but I carried some additional change. When he popped the question, I called his bluff. I answered, “I sure do!” He was a little flustered! I cooled my heels for quite a while, as he scrambled to find the “Twenty”.
After I finished my collecting, I took all the change to the bank, and changed it into bills. In 1928-9, the Bills were very large (as were the wallets). Gold was still legal then, and I can remember having small denominations of those pieces. When the banks closed, because of a “run” on them during the depression, the Government ordered everyone to turn in their gold pieces. Of course, I respected “authority” and complied. Today, they would be very valuable - not only as an antique, but with gold going for over $1,000 an ounce. Today, I realize that the governments’ order was like today’s warnings not to remove the tags on mattresses and pillows! I settled with the paper and what money left was mine!
After nearly two pages of manuscript, I still haven’t mentioned “Clark Bars”. I had to walk about four blocks from the printing building before I started my paper route. It started downtown at Broad Street and included all of Bacon Street - both sides - eastward to the city limits. This distance was about two miles. The route probably included 100 customers. At the City Limits, Bacon street made a 45 degree jog to the right ,and became Bacon Road. At the City limits was a small hot dog stand called “The Limits” (that figures). A man and his wife ran the shop. In the summer, when I handed them the paper, they gave me a Clark Bar - cost 5 cents. Instead of getting tired of the candy bar, I got hooked on them. They became my favorite. In the winter, they would give me a hot dog. It was the best ones that I’ve ever had. I can still taste them - especially the onions - after 70 years!
D.L. Clark founded his candy company in 1886. Clark came to America from Ireland in 1873 at the age of 8. His education consisted of only one year in grade school. Like me, he sold newspapers at the age of nine. At age twelve, he went to Business College at night, and worked during the day. Clark founded his candy company in 1886.
He introduced his Clark bar by shipping them to the troops overseas during World War One. Their popularity continued with the general population after the war. Clark died in 1939 at the age of 75. In 1955, the Clark family sold the company to Beatrice Foods. It operated the company until 1983. After numerous sales of the company, New England Confectionary Company (NECCO) now owns the company.
I hadn’t seen a Clark bar in many years. I assumed that they were extinct, and I missed my Clark Bar “fix’. I am glad that Sue remembered, and thought of me.
Back to my paper route:
At Christmas, most of my customers remembered me with gifts of homemade cookies, fruit cake , candy or they gave me money. So, I must have done something right.
Today, I really appreciate my newsboy experience. I am glad that my parents went along with it and didn’t intervene. I do believe that my experience helped to mold my philosophy of life, and I’m thankful for that.
Long live the Clark Bar!
RCL
10/22/09.

ACCEPTANCE

2009-10-22T12:54:00.000-07:00

ACCEPTANCE
My daughter Joan, joined me for lunch yesterday, here at Quail Creek. We had an interesting conversation about her upcoming Workshop at Stockbridge. She will teach, and demonstrate, how to make skin-care products and candles.
After lunch, we went over to the Laurel Creek Health Center to attend a Care- Plan Conference, on Marie’s status at the skilled nursing facility.
Besides Joan and I, the following facility representatives were there:
Toni - Case Manager
Suzanne - Social Worker
Debbie - Dining Services Dietician
Debra - Activities Coordinator.
The Staff presented their comments relating to Marie’s status, and Joan and I mentioned our concerns and suggestions. While saddened, we were not surprised with the gloomy news.
After the half-hour conference, Joan and I walked over to Station 3 to visit Marie, my Wife, and Joan’s Mother. Upon leaving Marie’s room, I experienced my usual sadness, and I fought off tears. Joan was quiet, so I glanced over at her, and she was teary-eyed, apparently experiencing my same emotion. I am sure that the information, that we just heard in the meeting, contributed to our sad feelings.
This was not the first time that I have experienced this sad emotion. It is a usual feeling each time that I leave Marie. While I have tried to define, and understand it, I have come up empty. Our feeling of “loss’ and sadness, flies in the face of Marie getting optimum care at the facility. (I expect this, when we are paying $230 a day for it!)
The paradox is that I see others in the facility - certainly, some worse off than Marie, I don’t relate to them as I do to Marie, of course. It is probably because I am recalling all the happy memories of 65 years of our being together - a very happy and fruitful marriage. I remember how vibrant she used to be, and what a pleasure to be with. But, it doesn’t dull the pain. I want this same setting again. I don’t have the same feeling for the others.
I see them as very fortunate to have such “tender loving care!”
Why am I experiencing this sadness? Probably, because I am facing reality, and haven’t come to grips with it. I want to “fix” her, and I can’t. I am helpless. It is not to be. While many of us are out- living our life expectancy, it can be at a trade-off! More extended years with chronic health problems.
I have read Elisabeth Kubler Ross’ “Death and Dying,” and thought that I had reconciled her Fifth Rule for Grieving - “Acceptance”. Apparently not. Marie’s Neurologist has diagnosed her with Alzheimer Dementia. This is irreversible. While I know this, I still grieve. The MRI of Marie’s brain showed a loss of 50 percent of the cells in her frontal cortex.
On a much lighter note:-
Later yesterday afternoon, Joan and Manny joined me for Bocce Ball and golf. Our Bocce team showed up at three o’clock per schedule, but a “No Show” for our opponents. Their “forfeit” was an easy win for us. Joan and Manny had dropped by to watch me play. So it wasn’t a total loss, I suggested that the three of us play. They agreed. It was their first try at Bocce Ball, and they were very competitive, as they usually are.
After throwing a few balls, we went over to the putting green. We putted around the nine holes, and I enjoyed that, too.

RCL - 10/22/09.

KNOW SOMETHING!

2009-10-22T12:52:00.000-07:00

Lately, I am getting a lot of junk mail! Subjects - “Pre-need Funerals” and also “Pre-paid Cremation”. They have got me wondering, if someone knows something that I am not aware of?
RCL

SOCIAL SECURITY

2009-10-20T20:30:00.000-07:00

SOCIAL SECURITY
Yesterday, I received a letter from Bob, a friend, who works in the Glen Cove -Safeway store in Vallejo. He wrote that he opted for early retirement Social Security payments. He will continue working. Bob is in a good situation, as he is currently working part-time. He can earn up to $12,000 (2005) dollars a year, before a penalty. After this amount, he will be penalized $1 of benefits for every $2 he earns. His current Benefit is 75% of the Benefit he would have received at age 66, However, the amount of his benefit will be the same over time!
He also mentioned Leo, another friend in the same store, who is 65 and still working. Leo is collecting his full Social Security Benefit, and has no earnings restriction penalty. Had Leo waited until he was 70 before filing, he would have earned additional Social Security credits. Beyond the age of 70, there is no additional increase in Benefits.
Bob’s letter got me reflecting back on my Social Security decision in 1983. I retired on February 1 - prior to being 65 in November. I took a 5% hit from full eligibility, for this nine month shortfall. Even though it was a small decision to take “Early Retirement”, it is was still a decision. Deciding whether to retire early, or work until the legislated-fully vested Social Security age, is one of the biggest financial decisions people will face in their lifetime. It is a “crap-shoot”. There are so many variables and unknowns that you have to consider:-for instance, - will you reach, or exceed, your life expectancy? We are living longer than we were projected to live at birth. This increased longevity has come at a cost - in more chronic -health problems. Also, you have to consider the source for your genes. Were your parents and grandparents long-lived? What was their medical history? Another variable:- How much do you travel on the busy California freeways? Your exposure to all of the goofy - weaving - texting-drivers can be dangerous to your health, and reduce your longevity!
I think that the general consensus is that it is more prudent to file early for Social security - even though you will be receiving smaller monthly payments (these will be “fixed”), for a longer period of time. You are betting that you will beat the Governments’ actuarial by living longer than they calculated. A “no brainer” for taking early Social security payments would be to shelter investments having high returns. You would use your Social Security income rather than cash in your high quality investments. In this recessionary era, this situation would be highly unlikely - unless you have invested in a Ponzi scheme!
I got side-tracked, Back to my decision to retire a little early. The winter season of 1982-3 was particularly rainy. Too, the stress from my commute to San Francisco from Vallejo was bothering me. The travel times to and from, had almost doubled in the 14 years of commuting (1969-1983). Even though I commuted by a charter -Greyhound Bus, it was wearing.
While on the subject of Social Security: - The Social Security Act was signed into law in 1935 by president Franklin Roosevelt. It has been amended through the years. The program is administered by the Social Security Administration (SSA). It is amazing to me, that the fund is still solvent - and is predicted to remain so for many more years - even with the earl “Boomers” joining the ranks. The program is a “Social Insurance”, even though some high-wage earners pay more into the system than they receive back. The system is “pseudo-scientific.” It is based on statistical probabilities (actuarials), and these assumptions change over time. It is based on averages, and no one is “average”. “Life Expectancies” are increasing with each generation. Yet, all-in-all, the Benefits are a God-send to great number of people. For some, it is their major source of income. This is outside of the Supplemental Security Income (SSI) program. While SSI is managed by SSA, the SSI funds are not part of the Social Security taxes.
Good luck, one and all, on your decision making!

RCL
October 20, 2009.

BRIDGE GAME

2009-10-19T21:39:00.000-07:00

BRIDGE GAME
I played bridge last Wednesday (October 14). I am enjoying playing bridge, even though I don’t seem to get many good hands. One needs a few good cards to even play defense. I know that the “law of averages” kicks in, but am wondering over what time span?
You can’t use a bidding system because you have a different partner at each of the three tables. I guess it could be done, but you would need tremendous recall, when you might play with any of twenty different people, who might have various bidding conventions.
We do have some interesting conversations though. At one table, George was my partner, I like him as a person, and I enjoy him as a partner. He is an interesting guy. I would like to know more about his background. When George bids, he’s inconsistent. He likes to “wing it”. (Sometimes, it works out.) You still don’t know if his bid describes his holdings. If his partnership goes “set”, and his partner questions his bidding, he answers, “I wanted to tell you what cards I had!” He likes to cross-trump (who doesn’t?), and the corollary, he doesn’t like “No Trump” bids. He gets confused as to “whose lead?”; “whose trick?” and “whose deal?” But, George is 95! These memory lapses aren’t peculiar to George, for we all utter these words at various times! He still drives, and is very generous in offering people rides. He returned recently from a ten day cruise to Alaska!
George is living across the street in the Paradise Valley - Independent Living complex. He looked at Quail Creek, an Assisted Living facility (where I live), but it didn’t take him long to nix the idea of changing his residence. He is getting twice the space for half of the Q.C. monthly fee. Too, he insists on someone making his bed each day - probably a throwback to his military experience, when he was “in charge” of making his bed!
George goes out for breakfast each morning. He is a connoisseur on where to eat breakfast. He said that he gets up early and doesn’t want to wait for the Café’ to open.
At the third, and last table, we had an interesting conversation. Dorothy mentioned that Betty was off on her 22 day cruise aboard the Queen Mary 2 ($11,000!). George mentioned that he had taken a cruise on it too. He said that They boarded it At Fort Lauderdale, and sailed around Cape Horn to San Francisco - 34 days! He said that there were 3,000 passengers and a crew of 2,000!
Then, Jim said that he was aboard the original Queen Mary during WWII, when it had been converted to a troop carrier - with 15,000 men aboard! He was the purser - in charge of the $85,000 “petty cash” fund - primarily for per diem - $5/day/man. Jim mentioned that the government was tight with money. I guess so!
An aside: Jim’s tale got me to thinking about my experience on a Troop Ship in 1943. I was returning to the States after flying 50 missions as a bombardier on a B-17 Flying fortress. The ship was “The Empress of Scotland” before the troop-ship conversion. I caught the ship in Casablanca. We spent seven days zigzagging every so often - just short of the time that It would take for a German U-Boat to aim and fire a torpedo at us. (We were unescorted). We could outrun the subs with our 30 knots. There were twelve of us officers in the former stateroom. We were served meals in the dining room - which was very nice. Even with the fast speed, due to changing course so many times, it took us eight days to reach Newport News.
Then, Dorothy mentioned that her brother won $30,000 playing poker on a troop ship during the war, She recalled a childhood memory:- She and her brother would visit a neighboring farm. They liked to help with the chores - like picking vegetables, gathering eggs and so forth. The farmer agreed to teach them how to farm. One day when they returned home, her brother was carrying a chicken. When they arrived home, their mother asked him where he got the chicken? Her brother told his mother, “It followed him home!”
We were the last of the three tables to finish for the day. I wonder why?
RCL - 10/17/09.

TOURO UNIVERSITY

2009-10-18T16:45:00.001-07:00

TOURO UNIVERSITY
I had an interesting experience today. Bunny, a friend of Reva’s, and a teacher at Touro University in Vallejo, asked me if students of hers could interview me, and do a physical exam. I agreed, feeling that if I could contribute anything to the medical field, I was certainly willing to do so.
Locally, Touro University has two campuses on Mare Island and one in Vallejo. The school specializes in the medical field - a College of Osteopathic Medicine; a College of Health Sciences and a College of Education.
Bunny introduced me to my student - interviewers, Brian and Kevin, and we were off to our Quail Creek first floor Family Room. I enjoyed their youthful enthusiasm and dedication to the protocol that they had prepared. I respect them for treating me the same demeanor that they would show with a much younger patient. I feel honored to be an interviewee.
I admire them for choosing a field of work where there will be much need - with 70 million “Boomers” in the pipeline for medical care. Too, it is a sacrifice - a very costly career, with many years of difficult study.
Their medical interrogation was a rewarding experience. (I particularly liked his question, “Are you sexually active?”). My recalling of my medical history reminded me of what a wonderful “being” the human body is. I am always amazed, by what little concern for their health, that “abusers” have.
Their physical check-up reminded me that it isn’t too late to pay attention to what is going on in my body. The session lasted longer than I expected - two and a half hours! But it was time well spent, and I am glad that I had the experience.
I wish Brian and Kevin well in their future careers. The world will be a better place with their contributions.
Ray L’Amoreaux
October 15, 2009.

SAN DIEGO

2009-10-15T21:50:00.000-07:00

SAN DIEGO
It is Thursday, September 17, 2009, and I am headed down to San Diego to attend the wedding of my oldest grand daughter, Melissa, and her fiancé` Ryan. Mary and Greg have picked up Sue, and they swing by Quail Creek and get me. Greg loads my suit case, and carry-on, into the spacious trunk of his Toyota, and we are off to the Sacramento Airport. I am sure that they are leaving sooner than they do when I’m not with them. They know how nervous I am about catching my flight. I missed a flight once when traveling on business. I promised myself that I would never miss another one. I didn’t want to go through that helpless feeling again. My theory is - “I’d rather sit “relaxed” at the airport than sit “tensed” at home, waiting to leave.
We arrive in plenty of time and I am relieved. Greg parked the car when while we joined the Disney-lie snake line to check in with our luggage. It took us less than an hour to check in and go through the Security Check. I had a new experience. This is my introduction to the Sacramento Airport. The Southwest “coordinator” checked me out on the computer, at the counter, to get my “boarding pass”. Nice to learn something new at this late stage! We stopped in the snack area as we had plenty of time until boarding.
Sue got me a pre-boarding pass. She was allowed to board with me. It worked out well, because she was able to “hold” two seats for Mary and Greg (no reserved seating on Southwest. They board by A, B and C groups. Your assignment is “first come first served”, when obtaining the boarding passes.
It was a scenic flight down - first over land and then along the coast into San Diego. We had a good view of Hetch-Hetchy reservoir - the source of San Francisco’s water supply, It is located at the North end of Yosemite Park. There was a big battle before it was constructed. Big business won over the environmentalists. John Muir must still be shaking his fist on High!
After picking up our luggage at the Southwest carousel, we took the Hertz shuttle to their office off -airport. The car renters used to be in the terminals, with the cars parked just outside. Check-in was very convenient and fast. Cheaper off-site. Let the customer scramble! Although it is nice of them to provide the shuttle bus!
Sue, Greg and I cooled our heels outside, across the street from the Hertz check-in office. Mary was inside, in line, inching up to the counter for an hour, for the privilege of renting one of their vehicles. She finally was awarded a four-door black Honda. While standing outside, Greg spotted Steadman - Oprah’s sidekick. He was boarding (hurriedly) a Hertz shuttle (heading back to Chicago?) Greg mentioned it. Sue really got excited! She wanted to run over and get his auto graph! Greg and I talked her out of it. He was probably the real thing, because Joan and Manny saw him in bound the day before, after they arrived in San Diego.
I was surprised at the roomy trunk of the Honda. Greg skillfully fit all of our luggage in, and still could close the trunk without leaning on the door. Greg drove us to the waterfront where we had a nice lunch at the Fish Market. I was really impressed with the Bob Hope sculptures that Greg pointed out in front of the restaurant.
After lunch, Greg drove us to the Radisson Hotel on the North end of San Diego. (11520 West Bernardo Court). Sue and I shared Room 216. I really enjoyed our three night stay there. There was a restaurant below us, so it was very convenient. It was strange to see Joan and Manny, Melissa, Michelle and Brittney in a setting different than in Fairfield.
This evening, Thursday, Ryan’s stepmother, Jeannette and dad, Bill, graciously hosted the Rehearsal Dinner at Romano’s Macaroni Grill. So, I got to meet them, and Ryan’s mom, Janice, and his brother, Andy. I also got to meet Ryan’s relatives and friends. Some of the relatives came from Rochester, New York - including Janice’s mother (Ryan’s grandmother), Angie. I enjoyed a very pleasant evening.
On Friday, Greg was very gracious in driving us all over the San Diego area - including beautiful La Jolla, where his sister Flo lives. He is very familiar with the local area and was an excellent Tour Guide! I was really impressed with the nice beaches, and the beautiful homes.
Thanks to cell phones, we all - Mary, Greg, Sue, Joan. Manny, Melissa, Michelle and Brittney and I, were able to meet up at the Urbane Café’ for lunch. Joan and Manny treated all of us! It was very nice of them, and I enjoyed sharing lunch.
Melissa sat next to me, and shared the philosophy on the inside of her Honest Ade - Orange Mango drink - label. - “The true meaning of life is to plant trees, under whose shade, you do not expect to sit” - Nelson Henderson. We volunteered on what exactly we thought the quote meant.
Friday evening, the family ate in the hotel. Mary and Greg “treated.” It was a very enjoyable evening.
Saturday was a very busy “flower day.” Everyone (but me) pitched in and took over one of the rooms. They made the flower arrangements and the
button Aires and corsages. They did a professional job - consuming most of the day,
The Wedding took place at the Bernardo Winery not too far from the hotel. Melissa and Ryan made all the arrangements, and they did a very thorough and professional job. The ceremony took place at five in the afternoon, and was held outside in a very nice garden setting. Being late afternoon, it had cooled off a little.
Joy officiated, and performed an interesting and spiritual ceremony. Manny escorted Melissa, and I escorted Joan. Melissa’s sisters. Michelle and Brittney were bridesmaids. Tory, Ryan’s lifelong friend and his brother Andy were Groomsmen. (Tory’s mother, and Ryan’s mother, delivered their sons at about the same time.) After a delicious dinner and Wedding Cake, there was dancing.
Joan drove Sue and I to the San Diego Airport on Sunday for our return flight to Sacramento. I sure appreciated her help. We checked our suitcases inside, and went through Security. While waiting for Flight 1493 to board, Sue got a sandwich, which we split. While sitting there, I noticed this older man walking by. He was limping, and I wondered if the heavy weight of the bag was causing it. Sue and I pre-boarded. Soon, the old guy came hobbling on board and stopped at the row ahead of us. He had the gall to ask Sue to put his heavy bag up in the bin. He said that he had a bad back! (Why didn’t the dummy check it?) I told Sue to forget it - or she would have a bad back. It takes all kinds. No wonder older people are stereotyped!
The flight back to Sacramento was uneventful. Walking in the jet way, I belatedly wondered what altitude we were flying. She went back and asked the pilot, and he said 38,000 feet (- odd altitude Southbound, and even Northbound.).Tom was very thoughtful, an met us at the Southwest “Arrival” area. This was my first time to see the very nice Sacramento Airport.
RCL - 10/10/09.

BETTER or WORSE?

2009-10-13T13:25:00.001-07:00

BETTER or WORSE?
It is raining hard today! I am thankful. We need the water. It hasn’t rained here for six months! The reservoirs need to be re-supplied! It is also very windy! While the area is usually windy - 10-20 knot breezes - blowing in from the Golden Gate - up through our Delta region. - gusts today, on the three main bridges in the area, are forecast to peak between 40 and 60 mph. I am giving the weather report because it leads in to my subject matter.
I have been visiting my wife, Marie, once a day. This is no big deal because she is only a five minute walk away. For many months, I tried seeing her twice a day. This got to be a little “much” for both of us. Since cutting the visits down, she seems to be happier to see me, and I am glad to see her.
In deciding whether to forego my visit today, because of the foul weather, I had a flash back to nearly 65 years ago. When I answered “…….for better, or worse,…..”, with “Yes”, I never thought much about that which I was agreeing. Nor, have I ever analyzed my “agreement” since. But, today. I wondered if “worse” included “bad weather?” What say you?
RCL - 10/13/09.

COLUMBUS DAY

2009-10-12T20:14:00.000-07:00

COLUMBUS DAY
Today is October 12, 2009 - Columbus Day. Christopher Columbus arrived in the Americas on October 12, 1492 - 517 years ago! October 12 became a federal holiday in 1934. In 1971, the legal holiday was assigned to the second Monday in October - the same day that Canada celebrates their Thanksgiving. The day is not a legal holiday in Hawaii, Nevada and South Dakota. To honor the day - and Columbus - I stood our flag in our hall way/entrance way.
Today, Columbus Day is quite controversial. While the Italian-Americans “honor” the day, our Native Americans do not. Generally, the day is losing it’s popularity. There is a “push” to do away with it, and trade the Holiday for the Friday after Thanksgiving, New Year’s Eve or such other time. According to an article in the Wall Street Journal, 22 states don’t give their employees the day off. Let the parades begin!
I took a shower this morning after breakfast. The showers here at Quail Creek are very interesting to say the least. The shower head is attached to flexible tubing. I chose not to have a shower curtain. But my decision puts a lot of pressure on me to keep the manual spray within the confine of the tile walls. Just in case, I mis-spray, I place a large bath towel on the floor next to the base of the shower. I have become pretty skilled in the past year and a half. I would be comfortable with taking a shower sans towel.
This afternoon, I played bridge. I contributed my $1 to the pot. During play, someone handed me a dollar. So it was a “wash.” The dollar was my “reward” for being “booby’ last week. (the “prize” is the return of your dollar- entrance fee.)We had three tables - 12 players. I ended the day playing at a table with three other men! This is the first time that has happened. There were five men in all today, and seven women playing. The quality of play is about the same, between the genders.
A good thing we are not scheduled to play Bocce tomorrow. The weatherman is predicting lots of rain (2-3 inches - not much compared to the Philippines and Texas, lately). The weather specialists are predicting another dry winter for us. If it happens, it will be the third one in a row. With an estimated population of 38 million people in California, someone had better get “cracking” on nuclear de-salination of the nearby Pacific. In 1950, a limited supply of fresh water was supposed to limit the population growth in California to twenty million people. But, in the ensuing 50 years, the population has almost doubled.
I debated whether to watch the Phillies and Rockies play baseball tonight, or watch Monday Night Football, between Miami and the New York Jets. I ended up “blogging” instead.
RCL - 10/12/09.