Before I get into the story of the other band I played with in Escondido back in 1969, I wanted to mention that I was doing some organizing out in my shop over the holidays and found my sister's old year books from St. Louis and Philadelphia.
I was stunned to discover that the Villa Duchesne yearbooks listed the home address of every student. That includes Janet Musial (as in Stan's daughter) and Judy Switzer (as in Switzer Candy). Unbelievable!! But now know why I was confused about where Stan lived. For some reason I thought it was near Forest Park. But it was actually near Francis Park. That's where my dad taught Janet to play tennis...
Aside: Stan's house was the first place I saw termites. The pest control guy busted open the back door threshold and it was full of the critters. As near as I can tell (from online records) the house was only 5 years old at the time. That would explain why Mrs. Musial was so exasperated when she saw them... But that's totally irrelevant - which is why I remember it so well :-)
I also noticed that in various places in those yearbooks my sister's first name is written as Kathie, Kathy, Katharina, Catherine, Katarine and Katharine. As I mentioned in an earlier post, she was never quite happy with her name and was constantly tweaking it all through her childhood. She eventually settled on Karina...
And back to Escondido:
At some point in the summer of 1969 one of the guys at Finder's Music let me swap my Vox Phantom XII straight across for a 1953 (the year I was born) Fender Telecaster. It was an "off the books" transaction - the Telecaster had just been traded in and wasn't in their inventory yet. I think it was a reasonable exchange given that vintage guitars were not yet considered "collectible" at that time - they were just "old"... . I felt a bit bad about the fact that the Vox had never been fully paid for - but that wasn't exactly my fault... Aside: I eventually sold the Telecaster to a working musician around 1990...
The Telecaster was a bit awkward to play given that I'm a lefty and held it upside down (after swapping the strings and the nut) - but the neck had been narrowed and the action was vastly superior to the Vox (especially for my stubby little fingers). I spent a lot of time with it when I first got it and my technique improved immeasurably right away. That was also when I got obsessive compulsive about "palm muting" and spent countless hours experimenting. (It's kind of like pedal technique on a piano.)
And that was when I met another guitarist named Pete (last name was something like Mitchell or Marshall). He had a 1952 (the year he was born) Fender Strat and played lead guitar for a cover band that was looking for a second lead.
It was an unusual band (and not just because it didn't have a name): The drummer and keyboard/vocalist were slightly older and had day jobs so we very rarely practiced with them. For the most part, us two Petes and bass player Jack would get together at "other" Pete's house. And on the rare occasions when the entire band got together (at the drummers house) the music always seemed to come together effortlessly... There's probably a lesson there somewhere - I'm just not sure what it is :-)
Jack was a skinny dude who seemed to suffer from "short man syndrome". That's probably why he played bass... All I remember is that his shoes had really thick soles and he was perpetually angry about something or another :-)
The drummer was a dead ringer for Shaggy of Scooby-Doo fame. My most vivid memory of him is (of course) car related:
One evening we all showed up for practice at his place (he still lived with his parents) and he wasn't home. We were about to leave when he rolled up in a brand new "440-6 bbl" Roadrunner (B5 blue). That was a limited production model built only at the end of the 69 model year and was one of the quickest muscle cars ever made... It took a long time to convince him to show us the engine because the car had a fiberglass hood that was pinned down (no latches or hinges). So he had to find a blanket to set it down on after it was lifted off... It was quite an amazing car - only 10 miles on the odometer...
Then there was the keyboard/vocal guy... In addition to a holding down a regular job he had recently fathered a child (unplanned). He was still in his teens and doing his best to hold everything together but he was always on the edge... And (of course) his girlfriend did not want him playing in a band anymore - but for some guys that's like asking them not to breathe.
I also recall that he always kept one of those plastic lemon squeeze bottles on the corner of his keyboard. He claimed it was for his voice but I think he was just addicted to lemon juice :-)
Finally - there was other guitarist Pete: He was one of the coolest people I've ever met. His parents were Bohemian types of the Zen variety - totally laid back - never got upset about anything - and Pete was the same way. I had grown up on a steady diet of hysterics and drama, but his family didn't seem to experience any stress or conflict whatsoever. It was quite a revelation to me.
They had an old house near downtown Escondido and they were remodeling it... It was an incredibly neat place - beveled and leaded glass everywhere... It must have been quite the showplace back in the day.
And now that I've "painted the backdrop" I'll leave the rest of the story for the next post...
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Monday, December 27, 2010
Out and About
This may be my most uninteresting post ever... It's mostly here for completeness :-)
I don't think I've mentioned this before, but my sister Karina didn't get a driver's license until she was in her early 20's. I was quite puzzled by that. I couldn't wait to get behind the wheel but I was perpetually stuck on the waiting list for driver's ed class... I think Karina felt she was just a bit too "unstable" to be driving - a conclusion she probably reached from riding with my mom :-)
The point of the above is that when mom was off at work during the summer of 1969 I was stuck without transportation. Of course, Karina had boyfriends to take her places and sometimes I'd tag along - but lets just say I wasn't always welcome :-) Some days I had band practice (and had to walk to drummer Gary's house) but most days I was plain bored - and some days getting drunk just wasn't entertaining enough :-)
BTW: I should probably point out that this was prior to the "fast food" explosion and I was stuck right in the middle of the baby boom. Hence it was almost impossible for teenagers to get a summer job (I tried). Most who did worked for parents or relatives...
Now - I had always been interested in cars. As I mentioned many posts ago, by the age of 6 or 7 I could identify the make, model and year of almost any vehicle on the road. And by 1969 cars seemed to have become my generation's central focus... It was pure luck that my high school years coincided with one of the most incredible eras in automotive history. Those years saw the introduction of the Firebird, Camaro, Road Runner, GTX, Charger, SuperBee, SS-396 Chevelle, 427 Vette, AMX, Cougar, Mach I and Boss 302 Mustangs, Shelby GT500, Torino Talladega, Dodge Daytona and Plymouth Superbird - not to mention the Mopar street Hemi engine. And the list goes on... The high school parking lots overflowed with muscle and pony cars... And immediately after I graduated the car makers put the brakes on performance... The passage of the Clean Air Act coupled with insanely high car insurance rates shifted Detroit's focus to other memorable models like the Pinto, Maverick, Vega, Chevette, Monza and Gremlin (AKA the dark ages)... I still shudder thinking about it... But I sort of digress :-)
That summer - out of sheer boredom - I often ventured out onto the streets of Escondido... The mall was right down the hill from our apartments but for some reason I didn't find it a compelling place to hang out... Most days I headed over to Finder's Music, grabbed a guitar and played around a bit. But they knew I wasn't going to buy anything so eventually they'd politely nudge me toward the door. I really don't blame them - otherwise the place would be full of teenagers with nothing else to do :-)
And that left the car dealerships... It took quite a while to hike to most of them and the summer temperatures were frequently in the 90s. But it was worth it to see all that Detroit muscle sitting on the showroom floors...
It should come as no surprise that the car dealerships were considerably less hospitable to teenagers than the music stores :-) They weren't really rude and they didn't mind you drooling over the cars for a few minutes - but if you stayed much longer they'd hit you with the standard "C'mon - we're trying to sell cars here - how about giving us a break?" plea. Luckily I was a sucker for sales brochures, posters and trinkets and it didn't take much of a bribe to get me to leave :-)
By the end of the summer I had a pretty impressive collection of muscle car sales collateral. In addition, my mom had snagged a bunch of the Big Three's "press packets" for me when she worked at the newspaper. (Those were really hard to come by - the newspaper didn't do automotive articles and were going to throw them out...) That collection would be worth a small fortune today. That is if I hadn't thrown it all out during one of my early "zen" phases :-)
So - I'm getting close to being done with Escondido... I've got one more band to talk about - some memories from the first part of my senior year - and let's not forget the Eric Burdon story... Then it's on to the strangest journey of my life...
I don't think I've mentioned this before, but my sister Karina didn't get a driver's license until she was in her early 20's. I was quite puzzled by that. I couldn't wait to get behind the wheel but I was perpetually stuck on the waiting list for driver's ed class... I think Karina felt she was just a bit too "unstable" to be driving - a conclusion she probably reached from riding with my mom :-)
The point of the above is that when mom was off at work during the summer of 1969 I was stuck without transportation. Of course, Karina had boyfriends to take her places and sometimes I'd tag along - but lets just say I wasn't always welcome :-) Some days I had band practice (and had to walk to drummer Gary's house) but most days I was plain bored - and some days getting drunk just wasn't entertaining enough :-)
BTW: I should probably point out that this was prior to the "fast food" explosion and I was stuck right in the middle of the baby boom. Hence it was almost impossible for teenagers to get a summer job (I tried). Most who did worked for parents or relatives...
Now - I had always been interested in cars. As I mentioned many posts ago, by the age of 6 or 7 I could identify the make, model and year of almost any vehicle on the road. And by 1969 cars seemed to have become my generation's central focus... It was pure luck that my high school years coincided with one of the most incredible eras in automotive history. Those years saw the introduction of the Firebird, Camaro, Road Runner, GTX, Charger, SuperBee, SS-396 Chevelle, 427 Vette, AMX, Cougar, Mach I and Boss 302 Mustangs, Shelby GT500, Torino Talladega, Dodge Daytona and Plymouth Superbird - not to mention the Mopar street Hemi engine. And the list goes on... The high school parking lots overflowed with muscle and pony cars... And immediately after I graduated the car makers put the brakes on performance... The passage of the Clean Air Act coupled with insanely high car insurance rates shifted Detroit's focus to other memorable models like the Pinto, Maverick, Vega, Chevette, Monza and Gremlin (AKA the dark ages)... I still shudder thinking about it... But I sort of digress :-)
That summer - out of sheer boredom - I often ventured out onto the streets of Escondido... The mall was right down the hill from our apartments but for some reason I didn't find it a compelling place to hang out... Most days I headed over to Finder's Music, grabbed a guitar and played around a bit. But they knew I wasn't going to buy anything so eventually they'd politely nudge me toward the door. I really don't blame them - otherwise the place would be full of teenagers with nothing else to do :-)
And that left the car dealerships... It took quite a while to hike to most of them and the summer temperatures were frequently in the 90s. But it was worth it to see all that Detroit muscle sitting on the showroom floors...
It should come as no surprise that the car dealerships were considerably less hospitable to teenagers than the music stores :-) They weren't really rude and they didn't mind you drooling over the cars for a few minutes - but if you stayed much longer they'd hit you with the standard "C'mon - we're trying to sell cars here - how about giving us a break?" plea. Luckily I was a sucker for sales brochures, posters and trinkets and it didn't take much of a bribe to get me to leave :-)
By the end of the summer I had a pretty impressive collection of muscle car sales collateral. In addition, my mom had snagged a bunch of the Big Three's "press packets" for me when she worked at the newspaper. (Those were really hard to come by - the newspaper didn't do automotive articles and were going to throw them out...) That collection would be worth a small fortune today. That is if I hadn't thrown it all out during one of my early "zen" phases :-)
So - I'm getting close to being done with Escondido... I've got one more band to talk about - some memories from the first part of my senior year - and let's not forget the Eric Burdon story... Then it's on to the strangest journey of my life...
Thursday, December 23, 2010
The Diver
Another one of Karina's boyfriends in Escondido was a 30 year old divorced man named Richard who lived with his mother in an apartment across from ours at Fountain Estates. He had a 7 year old son who visited him every other weekend. I remember that because he never got tired of reminding me that I was closer to his son's age than his. I'm not sure what Richard's point was given that he was probably less mature than both of us :-)
Richard (I remember his last name but I won't disclose it) didn't have a regular job. I suspect that had something to do with avoiding alimony. But his stated profession was "abalone diver". And I seem to recall that he was also a diving instructor - that brought in a few extra bucks...
But Richard's true love was his trimaran (triple hull sailboat). He had designed and built it in Hawaii and sailed it (solo) back to the mainland. It was extremely small for an ocean-going vessel but it was light and could be made water-tight. He said it had survived storms with 30 foot swells - it just floated over the crests like a cork...
The trimaran was moored in one of the marinas in Oceanside and that's where he spent a good deal of his time... That's also one of the places he and Karina went to drop acid. (I always avoided hallucinogens but Karina never avoided much of anything.)
Apparently one night Karina had a "bad trip"... She told me that she was lying in the bunk trying to make it stop but the boat was bobbing up and down and the alarm clock wouldn't stop laughing at her... It went on for hours. I don't think she ever stopped having flashbacks.
BTW - that was not the only thing she never fully recovered from: While we were in La Jolla she was hypnotized by a friend and "regressed to a past life". She ended up in a state of absolute terror - screaming that she was being murdered - and the guy couldn't wake her up. When she finally came out of it she was really messed up. I witnessed the whole thing - and it was pretty darn frightening... Now - I have no idea what was really happening. I'm not sure I even believe in hypnosis let alone reincarnation. But I'm 100% sure she wasn't "acting"... It's just another one of those things I can't fully explain.
Aside - I guess this would be as good a time as any to say a few words about beliefs:
Early on I was raised to be a devout Catholic but as I entered my teen years my mom's belief system shifted to mysticism, reincarnation, numerology, astrology, UFOs, channeling and pretty much anything else that wasn't "mainstream". But the simple fact is that I have yet to encounter any explanation for our existence that holds water.
The only logical conclusion I can reach is that we do not exist - but I find that hard to accept given that I seem to be sitting here writing this :-) Truth be told - I suspect that our puny brains are just too limited to grasp the nature of our existence. And I think that's a good thing. (I suspect that's the whole point of the "snake and the apple" story.)
When I was growing up I found the whole "reason for our existence" topic puzzling and troubling. But at some point in my late teens I took a step back and asked: "Does it really matter how we got here?"... It seemed like the questions we should be asking are: "What should I do with my life?" and "How should I treat those around me?" And it occurred to me that if your beliefs about the origin of man affect how you behave then your personal belief system is deeply flawed... So the issue is moot: We're here - get over it :-)
Still - the though that man might be the ultimate intelligence in the universe does strike me as rather silly... I mean - that would make this one incredibly lame universe - right? ... But then I'm only human... So there ya go... And I totally digress...
Here's some home movie footage I shot of Richard and Karina by the pool at Fountain Estates. The newspaper headline puts the date of the clip around July 30th, 1969:
Note: Karina was constantly changing her hair back in those days... Sometimes it would turn orange or green so she'd bleach it and start over.
OK - I suppose I should admit that I used "Sun-in" on my hair that summer - trying to get some of those surfer-like highlights going... It didn't really help - but it's one of the few times I can recall paying any attention whatsoever to my appearance :-)
Richard and Karina had one of those love/hate relationships that seemed to drag on forever. It was fueled by alcohol and drugs and constant tension... And my problem was that Richard and I had become buddies. He had some obvious flaws but he was also really clever and had a wicked sense of humor. I enjoyed hanging out with him and Karina was putting him through hell... He never knew what she was going to do from one minute to the next. (I don't think she even knew.)
That put me in a really awkward spot when they had their final blow-up. There was hours of back and forth - screaming and door slamming - the mothers got into it too... I'm rather surprised nobody called the police... And (as usual) I was stuck in the middle - the "straight man" in the comedy sketch :-)
Yeah - I never did anything but try and interject a bit of sanity and everybody ended up mad at me. Go figure...
Richard (I remember his last name but I won't disclose it) didn't have a regular job. I suspect that had something to do with avoiding alimony. But his stated profession was "abalone diver". And I seem to recall that he was also a diving instructor - that brought in a few extra bucks...
But Richard's true love was his trimaran (triple hull sailboat). He had designed and built it in Hawaii and sailed it (solo) back to the mainland. It was extremely small for an ocean-going vessel but it was light and could be made water-tight. He said it had survived storms with 30 foot swells - it just floated over the crests like a cork...
The trimaran was moored in one of the marinas in Oceanside and that's where he spent a good deal of his time... That's also one of the places he and Karina went to drop acid. (I always avoided hallucinogens but Karina never avoided much of anything.)
Apparently one night Karina had a "bad trip"... She told me that she was lying in the bunk trying to make it stop but the boat was bobbing up and down and the alarm clock wouldn't stop laughing at her... It went on for hours. I don't think she ever stopped having flashbacks.
BTW - that was not the only thing she never fully recovered from: While we were in La Jolla she was hypnotized by a friend and "regressed to a past life". She ended up in a state of absolute terror - screaming that she was being murdered - and the guy couldn't wake her up. When she finally came out of it she was really messed up. I witnessed the whole thing - and it was pretty darn frightening... Now - I have no idea what was really happening. I'm not sure I even believe in hypnosis let alone reincarnation. But I'm 100% sure she wasn't "acting"... It's just another one of those things I can't fully explain.
Aside - I guess this would be as good a time as any to say a few words about beliefs:
Early on I was raised to be a devout Catholic but as I entered my teen years my mom's belief system shifted to mysticism, reincarnation, numerology, astrology, UFOs, channeling and pretty much anything else that wasn't "mainstream". But the simple fact is that I have yet to encounter any explanation for our existence that holds water.
The only logical conclusion I can reach is that we do not exist - but I find that hard to accept given that I seem to be sitting here writing this :-) Truth be told - I suspect that our puny brains are just too limited to grasp the nature of our existence. And I think that's a good thing. (I suspect that's the whole point of the "snake and the apple" story.)
When I was growing up I found the whole "reason for our existence" topic puzzling and troubling. But at some point in my late teens I took a step back and asked: "Does it really matter how we got here?"... It seemed like the questions we should be asking are: "What should I do with my life?" and "How should I treat those around me?" And it occurred to me that if your beliefs about the origin of man affect how you behave then your personal belief system is deeply flawed... So the issue is moot: We're here - get over it :-)
Still - the though that man might be the ultimate intelligence in the universe does strike me as rather silly... I mean - that would make this one incredibly lame universe - right? ... But then I'm only human... So there ya go... And I totally digress...
Here's some home movie footage I shot of Richard and Karina by the pool at Fountain Estates. The newspaper headline puts the date of the clip around July 30th, 1969:
Note: Karina was constantly changing her hair back in those days... Sometimes it would turn orange or green so she'd bleach it and start over.
OK - I suppose I should admit that I used "Sun-in" on my hair that summer - trying to get some of those surfer-like highlights going... It didn't really help - but it's one of the few times I can recall paying any attention whatsoever to my appearance :-)
Richard and Karina had one of those love/hate relationships that seemed to drag on forever. It was fueled by alcohol and drugs and constant tension... And my problem was that Richard and I had become buddies. He had some obvious flaws but he was also really clever and had a wicked sense of humor. I enjoyed hanging out with him and Karina was putting him through hell... He never knew what she was going to do from one minute to the next. (I don't think she even knew.)
That put me in a really awkward spot when they had their final blow-up. There was hours of back and forth - screaming and door slamming - the mothers got into it too... I'm rather surprised nobody called the police... And (as usual) I was stuck in the middle - the "straight man" in the comedy sketch :-)
Yeah - I never did anything but try and interject a bit of sanity and everybody ended up mad at me. Go figure...
Friday, December 17, 2010
Bad Sensei
The first time I watched the movie "The Karate Kid" I had a flashback about one of my sister Karina's boyfriends in Escondido back in 1969. The main "villain" in that movie was a bad "sensei" (karate teacher) whose philosophy was "No Weakness, No Pain, No Mercy". And I could swear that character was based on Karina's boyfriend...
I no longer remember the guy's name, but he was a former marine hand to hand combat instructor who had won multiple martial arts championships in southern California (primarily Taekwondo). His specialty was the Kendo stick. He had a number of students (mostly high school aged) in Escondido.
I observed one of his classes once (he was trying to talk me into joining). Now, as you may recall, pain avoidance was one of my primary motivators (or demotivators) at the time. And from that perspective the class was rather frightening :-) His higher level "devotees" sparred full contact. Some of them went to Orange Glen High and I remember seeing them in casts from injuries suffered during practices... Like in the movie - fear and mercy were not permitted...
Aside: I did see him do something once that seemed impossible... One of his students tossed a bamboo pole into the air in front of him and he struck it (using his hand) with sufficient force to break it in half... I mean - bamboo is pretty flexible... It's one thing to break a pole with the ends solidly supported - but the speed and force required to break something like that in mid air is difficult to comprehend... On his first attempt the pole didn't break. The thing bounced off the side wall, the far wall and the ceiling of the gym - and made it almost all the way back to him before it landed... It was sheer luck that nobody was hurt...
OK - here's the thing: People are usually ambivalent toward me. They neither particularly like or dislike me, but they usually don't mind having me around because I can be moderately amusing when not being totally annoying :-) ... But this guy could not stand me.
And I don't think it was just the hygiene issues I was having at the time: He had a ridiculously over-developed sense of smell. Karina lived with him for a while and one morning I stopped by their apartment for 2 or 3 minutes while he was at work. He came home 6 hours later and instantly knew I had been there...
But I think it was my attitude, lack of motivation and fear of pain that really set him off. Every time he saw me he said if I had any balls I'd meet him in the park across the street with Kendo sticks... Yeah - he really wanted to beat the hell out of me :-) ... I know he passed his negative sentiments on to his students because at least one of them made nasty comments every time he saw me at school - and I didn't even know the kid...
The guy really didn't care about Karina. She was just "convenient" to have around... He actually had that conversation with one of his students one evening while they were giving me a ride somewhere. I couldn't believe they were saying all that crap with me sitting in the back seat... But then they weren't exactly afraid of me :-)
Karina did finally break up with him... Apparently he and a few of his students were walking through a park in their gi's one day when some guys pointed and laughed. Long story short - they beat the tar out of the guys and took off before the police got there... He could have inflicted much more serious injuries if he'd wanted to - but he was still a bit too proud of himself for Karina's taste...
He was not the only black belt Karina went out with over the years. I honestly don't know what she found attractive about some of those guys... But I had long since given up trying to figure her out. There was really no rhyme or reason to any of it...
I no longer remember the guy's name, but he was a former marine hand to hand combat instructor who had won multiple martial arts championships in southern California (primarily Taekwondo). His specialty was the Kendo stick. He had a number of students (mostly high school aged) in Escondido.
I observed one of his classes once (he was trying to talk me into joining). Now, as you may recall, pain avoidance was one of my primary motivators (or demotivators) at the time. And from that perspective the class was rather frightening :-) His higher level "devotees" sparred full contact. Some of them went to Orange Glen High and I remember seeing them in casts from injuries suffered during practices... Like in the movie - fear and mercy were not permitted...
Aside: I did see him do something once that seemed impossible... One of his students tossed a bamboo pole into the air in front of him and he struck it (using his hand) with sufficient force to break it in half... I mean - bamboo is pretty flexible... It's one thing to break a pole with the ends solidly supported - but the speed and force required to break something like that in mid air is difficult to comprehend... On his first attempt the pole didn't break. The thing bounced off the side wall, the far wall and the ceiling of the gym - and made it almost all the way back to him before it landed... It was sheer luck that nobody was hurt...
OK - here's the thing: People are usually ambivalent toward me. They neither particularly like or dislike me, but they usually don't mind having me around because I can be moderately amusing when not being totally annoying :-) ... But this guy could not stand me.
And I don't think it was just the hygiene issues I was having at the time: He had a ridiculously over-developed sense of smell. Karina lived with him for a while and one morning I stopped by their apartment for 2 or 3 minutes while he was at work. He came home 6 hours later and instantly knew I had been there...
But I think it was my attitude, lack of motivation and fear of pain that really set him off. Every time he saw me he said if I had any balls I'd meet him in the park across the street with Kendo sticks... Yeah - he really wanted to beat the hell out of me :-) ... I know he passed his negative sentiments on to his students because at least one of them made nasty comments every time he saw me at school - and I didn't even know the kid...
The guy really didn't care about Karina. She was just "convenient" to have around... He actually had that conversation with one of his students one evening while they were giving me a ride somewhere. I couldn't believe they were saying all that crap with me sitting in the back seat... But then they weren't exactly afraid of me :-)
Karina did finally break up with him... Apparently he and a few of his students were walking through a park in their gi's one day when some guys pointed and laughed. Long story short - they beat the tar out of the guys and took off before the police got there... He could have inflicted much more serious injuries if he'd wanted to - but he was still a bit too proud of himself for Karina's taste...
He was not the only black belt Karina went out with over the years. I honestly don't know what she found attractive about some of those guys... But I had long since given up trying to figure her out. There was really no rhyme or reason to any of it...
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Mom does it again
Up until the summer of 1969 mom had a nice secure job in the advertising department of a newspaper based in Oceanside, California. But early that summer she quit to go to work for a small "lifestyle" magazine based out of Escondido.
I honestly don't know what she was thinking... It wasn't until I started writing this blog that it suddenly became obvious that mom simply couldn't go more than a few months without totally disrupting our lives... She always told us that everything she did was "for us kids" - after all - she had sacrificed her opera career for us. And I think I actually believed it at the time... Yeah - applying logic to anything mom said or did was completely futile. You just learned to "go with the flow" :-)
And - surprise, surprise - two month later the magazine folded and mom was out of work again. I don't think she tried to get her old job back - I suspect she burned her bridges on the way out... Regardless - she was jobless for the rest of time we lived in Escondido.
Aside: During her brief tenure with that magazine mom was supposed to do an interview with Lawrence Welk at his "country club village" outside of Escondido. She arrived there at the scheduled time and Mr. Bubbles made her wait in the restaurant for almost an hour while he chatted with some buddies at the bar. When he finally got up to do the interview she told him that she had better things to do with her time and walked out... Apparently the expression on his face was priceless :-)
Of course, we were already behind on all of our payments before she lost her job. And it went downhill from there. Being late on the rent hadn't been a problem because mom had talked to the apartment complex owner and he had instructed the manager to let us slide a bit. But the old manager moved away that summer and the new one wasn't aware of the deal. So at the end of October 1969 we were asked to leave... At the time I wondered why mom didn't contact the owner about it - but in retrospect I think that she enjoyed the drama and welcomed the change.
OK - here's another one of those stories that's hard to believe:
When we moved into Fountain Estates we needed furniture so mom got a loan from a local bank for $500 (about $3000 adjusted for inflation) to cover it. Around the time we were facing eviction the bank threatened to repo our furniture because we were a month behind on the loan payments. That was a huge mistake on their part because it prompted mom to pay them a visit. Not only did she talk them out of repo-ing the furniture but she came out of there with another $300 unsecured loan.
I swear I'm not making that up! I don't know what story she told them - probably the "poor widow lost her job and being evicted but expecting a large inheritance" bit. Whatever - it must have been a truly amazing performance :-)
We used part of that $300 to move to a different apartment. (That was at the beginning of November). It was in an older complex and a bit run down and I don't remember exactly where it was - only that it was southeast of downtown. We were only there for about a month and a half before leaving Escondido... But I'm getting way ahead of myself.
The new manager of Fountain Estates had this zit-faced asshat of a son who also went to Orange Glen High. And every time that dillhole saw me at school he would announce loudly enough for everyone around to hear that my family was a bunch of deadbeats who had gotten evicted from "their" apartment complex... I suppose it should have bothered me but it was too much like being taunted by a 5 year old. He was just one of those people who are too stupid to realize how stupid they are - a true victim of the "Dunning-Kruger effect" :-)
But - like I said - I'm getting way too far ahead of myself... There's lots more Escondido stories to be told.
I honestly don't know what she was thinking... It wasn't until I started writing this blog that it suddenly became obvious that mom simply couldn't go more than a few months without totally disrupting our lives... She always told us that everything she did was "for us kids" - after all - she had sacrificed her opera career for us. And I think I actually believed it at the time... Yeah - applying logic to anything mom said or did was completely futile. You just learned to "go with the flow" :-)
And - surprise, surprise - two month later the magazine folded and mom was out of work again. I don't think she tried to get her old job back - I suspect she burned her bridges on the way out... Regardless - she was jobless for the rest of time we lived in Escondido.
Aside: During her brief tenure with that magazine mom was supposed to do an interview with Lawrence Welk at his "country club village" outside of Escondido. She arrived there at the scheduled time and Mr. Bubbles made her wait in the restaurant for almost an hour while he chatted with some buddies at the bar. When he finally got up to do the interview she told him that she had better things to do with her time and walked out... Apparently the expression on his face was priceless :-)
Of course, we were already behind on all of our payments before she lost her job. And it went downhill from there. Being late on the rent hadn't been a problem because mom had talked to the apartment complex owner and he had instructed the manager to let us slide a bit. But the old manager moved away that summer and the new one wasn't aware of the deal. So at the end of October 1969 we were asked to leave... At the time I wondered why mom didn't contact the owner about it - but in retrospect I think that she enjoyed the drama and welcomed the change.
OK - here's another one of those stories that's hard to believe:
When we moved into Fountain Estates we needed furniture so mom got a loan from a local bank for $500 (about $3000 adjusted for inflation) to cover it. Around the time we were facing eviction the bank threatened to repo our furniture because we were a month behind on the loan payments. That was a huge mistake on their part because it prompted mom to pay them a visit. Not only did she talk them out of repo-ing the furniture but she came out of there with another $300 unsecured loan.
I swear I'm not making that up! I don't know what story she told them - probably the "poor widow lost her job and being evicted but expecting a large inheritance" bit. Whatever - it must have been a truly amazing performance :-)
We used part of that $300 to move to a different apartment. (That was at the beginning of November). It was in an older complex and a bit run down and I don't remember exactly where it was - only that it was southeast of downtown. We were only there for about a month and a half before leaving Escondido... But I'm getting way ahead of myself.
The new manager of Fountain Estates had this zit-faced asshat of a son who also went to Orange Glen High. And every time that dillhole saw me at school he would announce loudly enough for everyone around to hear that my family was a bunch of deadbeats who had gotten evicted from "their" apartment complex... I suppose it should have bothered me but it was too much like being taunted by a 5 year old. He was just one of those people who are too stupid to realize how stupid they are - a true victim of the "Dunning-Kruger effect" :-)
But - like I said - I'm getting way too far ahead of myself... There's lots more Escondido stories to be told.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Karina Revisited
I've talked about my sister Karina in a number of my recent blog posts - and the stories reveal a bit about what she was like at the age of 19 back in 1969. But I don't think the picture is nearly complete.
It's hard to describe just how difficult and exhausting it was to be around her. There was no "filter" whatsoever on what she said or did - she left a trail of chaos wherever she went :-)
Here's something I had forgotten about until very recently:
Mom had been commiserating about Karina with an old family friend in L.A.
Aside: The friend was a former member of the Hungarian water polo team who had flown with my dad during WWII. His flying days ended when his ME109 was shot down and the ejection mechanism malfunctioned. He ended up pinned against the fuselage of his plane engulfed in flames as it plummeted to earth. He eventually managed to work himself free and open his chute, but not before suffering 3rd degree burns over 80% of his body. If he hadn't been a world class athlete there's no way he would have survived... But that's not the point of this story...
He had a couple of kids around Karina's age and thought she might benefit from having a bit more "structure" in her life. So he offered to let Karina stay with his family for a while - hoping that might help... He had no idea what he was getting into... Within a few weeks he had kicked Karina out - basically telling mom that she was "Satan incarnate" :-) So yeah - Karina could be "difficult"...
She had a number of other boyfriends in Escondido. I'll talk about some of them in future posts but I'll go ahead and mention "Phil Boles" now:
He was a DJ for KOWN - the local top 40 AM station. It was based in the Escondido Village Mall just down the hill from our apartment complex... (Karina had a thing for DJs.)
Another aside: There was a 24 hour grocery store at one end of the mall and it seemed like every time I went there in the middle of the night there were housewives doing their grocery shopping in bikinis... And it wasn't always the same ones... It was the weirdest thing (not that I'm complaining)... Almost as if there was a secret society of bikini-wearing women who only came out after dark. (Beach bunny vampires?) But I digress :-)
KOWN's broadcast booth was right in the mall - there was a big picture window so shoppers could watch the DJs at work... And Phil hated it. He used to go on frequent rants - telling stories about the crap people did to try and distract him... He was very much a "private person" - loved being a DJ but hated being recognized... It seems like a lot of DJs are like that.
Interesting: I did a little more poking around and apparently Phil changed his on-air name to "Phil Flowers" in 1970 and went on to have a quite a successful career as a radio personality... He passed away 7 years ago of a heart attack... Amazing what you can find out online these days :-)
When it comes right down to it Karina was pretty cruel to men. I honestly don't know if it was intentional or not. I don't think she knew if it was intentional or not...
I know that she never stopped being angry at my dad for "abandoning" her when she was 14. I suspect that had something to do with it... She was kind of like an evil fisherman. She'd hook one - play with it for a while - then reel it in, whack it on the head with a club and toss it back. It was painful to watch :-)
It was way past the point where I could (in good conscience) defend her behavior. Some of her ex's would ask me what the hell happened and I'd commiserate with them. That absolutely infuriated Karina - but she had me in an awkward position ... I was torn between my loyalty to her and my desire to "clean up" the damage that had been done... It was tough...
There have been times that I wished I saw the world in black and white instead of shades of gray. Then I would always "know the answer" instead of having to weigh and balance every thought and action - and second guess every decision... But I don't think I'd be happy in "absolute world"... I think I prefer it right where I am :-)
It's hard to describe just how difficult and exhausting it was to be around her. There was no "filter" whatsoever on what she said or did - she left a trail of chaos wherever she went :-)
Here's something I had forgotten about until very recently:
Mom had been commiserating about Karina with an old family friend in L.A.
Aside: The friend was a former member of the Hungarian water polo team who had flown with my dad during WWII. His flying days ended when his ME109 was shot down and the ejection mechanism malfunctioned. He ended up pinned against the fuselage of his plane engulfed in flames as it plummeted to earth. He eventually managed to work himself free and open his chute, but not before suffering 3rd degree burns over 80% of his body. If he hadn't been a world class athlete there's no way he would have survived... But that's not the point of this story...
He had a couple of kids around Karina's age and thought she might benefit from having a bit more "structure" in her life. So he offered to let Karina stay with his family for a while - hoping that might help... He had no idea what he was getting into... Within a few weeks he had kicked Karina out - basically telling mom that she was "Satan incarnate" :-) So yeah - Karina could be "difficult"...
She had a number of other boyfriends in Escondido. I'll talk about some of them in future posts but I'll go ahead and mention "Phil Boles" now:
He was a DJ for KOWN - the local top 40 AM station. It was based in the Escondido Village Mall just down the hill from our apartment complex... (Karina had a thing for DJs.)
Another aside: There was a 24 hour grocery store at one end of the mall and it seemed like every time I went there in the middle of the night there were housewives doing their grocery shopping in bikinis... And it wasn't always the same ones... It was the weirdest thing (not that I'm complaining)... Almost as if there was a secret society of bikini-wearing women who only came out after dark. (Beach bunny vampires?) But I digress :-)
KOWN's broadcast booth was right in the mall - there was a big picture window so shoppers could watch the DJs at work... And Phil hated it. He used to go on frequent rants - telling stories about the crap people did to try and distract him... He was very much a "private person" - loved being a DJ but hated being recognized... It seems like a lot of DJs are like that.
Interesting: I did a little more poking around and apparently Phil changed his on-air name to "Phil Flowers" in 1970 and went on to have a quite a successful career as a radio personality... He passed away 7 years ago of a heart attack... Amazing what you can find out online these days :-)
When it comes right down to it Karina was pretty cruel to men. I honestly don't know if it was intentional or not. I don't think she knew if it was intentional or not...
I know that she never stopped being angry at my dad for "abandoning" her when she was 14. I suspect that had something to do with it... She was kind of like an evil fisherman. She'd hook one - play with it for a while - then reel it in, whack it on the head with a club and toss it back. It was painful to watch :-)
It was way past the point where I could (in good conscience) defend her behavior. Some of her ex's would ask me what the hell happened and I'd commiserate with them. That absolutely infuriated Karina - but she had me in an awkward position ... I was torn between my loyalty to her and my desire to "clean up" the damage that had been done... It was tough...
There have been times that I wished I saw the world in black and white instead of shades of gray. Then I would always "know the answer" instead of having to weigh and balance every thought and action - and second guess every decision... But I don't think I'd be happy in "absolute world"... I think I prefer it right where I am :-)
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Don and John - part II
When I left off from my prior post Karina, John, Don and I were in a restaurant in Indio, Ca. It was during the evening rush and the poor waitress had just spent 10 minutes running back and forth to the kitchen to find out exactly how the "tuna melt" was made only to have Karina (without hesitation) order a turkey sandwich... Well - the waitress somehow managed to control her temper - we had our dinner - and Don and John left a really big tip :-)
As we were heading south out of town looking for a place to camp we spotted a grove of trees between the road and the train tracks so we pulled over to check it out. It looked like an ideal spot to spend the night - there was a fire pit and everything... But about 20 minutes after we got there a police car pulled up... We were like "Oh crap! What did we do now???"
The officer just wanted to make us aware that our "ideal camping spot" was frequented by transients in the middle of the night and we might get beaten and robbed if we stayed there. We thanked him profusely, packed up and headed south on Hwy 111 down the east shore of the Salton Sea. By that point it was totally dark so we pulled off on a side road and found another camping spot next to a rock face...
BTW - I'm pretty sure that rock face was the San Andreas Fault. I realized that when I checked a map after we got back... :-)
As we were pulling off the road John's Mustang (towing the dune buggy) got stuck. Don and I were pushing on the back of the car and it simply wouldn't budge - and every time the tires spun we got sand blasted. After a number of minutes I said "Screw this - I'm going to push on the back of trailer!" Don joined me and we were surprised to discover that a light push on the trailer was all it took to "unstick" the car (probably added downforce to the hitch). So I filed that datum away for future reference: "If car pulling trailer gets stuck - then push on trailer - not car". I don't recall ever needing that info again - but it's still there with all my other irreleventia :-)
We finally got settled in - drank a bunch more Red Mountain wine and conked out for the night. I know Karina and I slept in the back in the van - not sure about Don and John (I think they were in sleeping bags outside)...
When we woke up the next morning I had a raging hangover. Luckily there was still plenty of Red Mountain left - "hair of the dog" you know :-) It was freaking cold and my allergies were in overdrive. I blew my nose in a small towel repeatedly until it was totally polluted. I didn't know the sinuses could hold that much - the towel was unceremoniously disposed of :-)
I've grabbed some excerpts from the 8mm movie of the trip:
The guy at the beginning with the "6-pack abs" is John. I'm the one in the black dashiki and Don is in a t-shirt. I'm a bit embarrassed at how pasty white and out of shape I am later on.
A couple of other things to note:
The dune buggy was built by someone a lot shorter that Don. That's why he drives with one hand on the roll cage in front of him - so he doesn't whack his head on the crossbar (again). He modified it after this trip.
And that final shot is Karina - just having emerged from the van that morning wrapped in a blanket on account of the cold...
So after getting packed up we headed south down the shoreline and had brunch in Brawley (without incident) before heading west on hwy 78 to Ocotillo Wells (in the Anza-Borrego desert).
We untrailered the buggy and did a bit more environmental damage... Then some sort of weirdness ensued between Karina, John and Don... She ended up heading off to the van with one of them - I know longer remember who (maybe Don)? Frankly - I tried to not pay attention to her dalliances... It was just too damn confusing...
But at some point everyone but me ended up passed out in the van... So I sat outside for hours in the afternoon heat drinking Red Mountain waiting for signs of life from within... At one point the wind kicked up - there was sand blowing everywhere. It hurt quite a bit - but it did break up the monotony :-) Yeah - I was tired and ready to head home...
Sometime late in the afternoon I finally woke John up (he seemed like the most responsible one of the bunch) and told him it was probably time to get on the road.
So we finally got everyone awake, loaded up and headed up through Ramona back to Escondido... I rode with John in the Mustang on the way back. Like I said - he and Karina were usually "an item" but there was something weird going on with Don at that moment. I figured the less I knew the better :-)
I do distinctly recall how effortlessly the Mustang pulled the trailer up the 4000 ft. climb from the desert into the Cuyamaca Mountains. Quite impressive... And I remember talking about cars with John as we were driving through the mountains into the setting sun...
I'm not sure why I remember that particular trip so well... I guess it was just one of those "rite of passage" things... I was only 15 at the time but I was much more comfortable with people in their early 20's... And it was one of the first times I recall being treated more or less as an equal by people that age rather than a annoying kid...
But I was still happy to get home....
As we were heading south out of town looking for a place to camp we spotted a grove of trees between the road and the train tracks so we pulled over to check it out. It looked like an ideal spot to spend the night - there was a fire pit and everything... But about 20 minutes after we got there a police car pulled up... We were like "Oh crap! What did we do now???"
The officer just wanted to make us aware that our "ideal camping spot" was frequented by transients in the middle of the night and we might get beaten and robbed if we stayed there. We thanked him profusely, packed up and headed south on Hwy 111 down the east shore of the Salton Sea. By that point it was totally dark so we pulled off on a side road and found another camping spot next to a rock face...
BTW - I'm pretty sure that rock face was the San Andreas Fault. I realized that when I checked a map after we got back... :-)
As we were pulling off the road John's Mustang (towing the dune buggy) got stuck. Don and I were pushing on the back of the car and it simply wouldn't budge - and every time the tires spun we got sand blasted. After a number of minutes I said "Screw this - I'm going to push on the back of trailer!" Don joined me and we were surprised to discover that a light push on the trailer was all it took to "unstick" the car (probably added downforce to the hitch). So I filed that datum away for future reference: "If car pulling trailer gets stuck - then push on trailer - not car". I don't recall ever needing that info again - but it's still there with all my other irreleventia :-)
We finally got settled in - drank a bunch more Red Mountain wine and conked out for the night. I know Karina and I slept in the back in the van - not sure about Don and John (I think they were in sleeping bags outside)...
When we woke up the next morning I had a raging hangover. Luckily there was still plenty of Red Mountain left - "hair of the dog" you know :-) It was freaking cold and my allergies were in overdrive. I blew my nose in a small towel repeatedly until it was totally polluted. I didn't know the sinuses could hold that much - the towel was unceremoniously disposed of :-)
I've grabbed some excerpts from the 8mm movie of the trip:
The guy at the beginning with the "6-pack abs" is John. I'm the one in the black dashiki and Don is in a t-shirt. I'm a bit embarrassed at how pasty white and out of shape I am later on.
A couple of other things to note:
The dune buggy was built by someone a lot shorter that Don. That's why he drives with one hand on the roll cage in front of him - so he doesn't whack his head on the crossbar (again). He modified it after this trip.
And that final shot is Karina - just having emerged from the van that morning wrapped in a blanket on account of the cold...
So after getting packed up we headed south down the shoreline and had brunch in Brawley (without incident) before heading west on hwy 78 to Ocotillo Wells (in the Anza-Borrego desert).
We untrailered the buggy and did a bit more environmental damage... Then some sort of weirdness ensued between Karina, John and Don... She ended up heading off to the van with one of them - I know longer remember who (maybe Don)? Frankly - I tried to not pay attention to her dalliances... It was just too damn confusing...
But at some point everyone but me ended up passed out in the van... So I sat outside for hours in the afternoon heat drinking Red Mountain waiting for signs of life from within... At one point the wind kicked up - there was sand blowing everywhere. It hurt quite a bit - but it did break up the monotony :-) Yeah - I was tired and ready to head home...
Sometime late in the afternoon I finally woke John up (he seemed like the most responsible one of the bunch) and told him it was probably time to get on the road.
So we finally got everyone awake, loaded up and headed up through Ramona back to Escondido... I rode with John in the Mustang on the way back. Like I said - he and Karina were usually "an item" but there was something weird going on with Don at that moment. I figured the less I knew the better :-)
I do distinctly recall how effortlessly the Mustang pulled the trailer up the 4000 ft. climb from the desert into the Cuyamaca Mountains. Quite impressive... And I remember talking about cars with John as we were driving through the mountains into the setting sun...
I'm not sure why I remember that particular trip so well... I guess it was just one of those "rite of passage" things... I was only 15 at the time but I was much more comfortable with people in their early 20's... And it was one of the first times I recall being treated more or less as an equal by people that age rather than a annoying kid...
But I was still happy to get home....
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