Today, for no other reason than making room in my brain, I began to recall some earlier exploits from my youth in California. We can't let that go undocumented. You may expect examples of comedy, sorrow, horror, cooking, terror, car trouble, drunkenness, drugs, sex, adventure, charming stupidity, high finance, crime, scandal and so on. Um there will be boring stuff as well.
Comedy: There was the time I went to do laundry. I forgot to bring soap. They had a dispenser for itty bitty boxes of soap for fifteen cents. I didn't have a nickel or a dime. I had a quarter! Looking around I saw a pay phone. I remembered my friend, Judy, telling me that when she worked for Ma Bell, the operators had the ability to make the change come out of the phone. I dialed 0 and when the operator answered I asked her to make change for me with my quarter. She replied she could not do that. I really don't remember how I got the 15 cents, maybe someone was in the building and I asked them.
Sorrow: My roomie insisted we have a dog. We had rented a three bedroom, two bath house with a generous yard. So we went to the dog getting place. We brought home a smallish mutt who we named "Precious". The dog didn't last long. Sue backed over the poor thing one day. To be very honest, I was only borderline sad as we did not grow up with dogs. The few we had were of the very temporary variety (one week tops) who seemed to mysteriously go live with a farmer or accidentally get left at a rest stop. (sigh).
Horror: We were both house slobs. Mom would have shot us down like the dirty dogs we were. However, the excuse then was too tired, too busy etc. In reality, too lazy. One time we had a Tupperware party and a co-worker came. She was horrified by the state of the kitchen. We had piles of dishes, pots, pans, all utensils etc. Pam, being an Air Force wife and tidy person, dived in and washed dishes for what seemed like hours. She stopped about halfway through and said, "You girls can finish the rest." It remained unsaid that we ignored the rest of the mountain of dishes. When we met a gaggle of Airmen from Hamilton AFB, we had to clean up our act. It took forever!
Cooking: Now, I grew up in a house where Mom kept us fed with plenty of all home cooked meals consisting largely of home grown cow parts, veggies, milk, salad consisted of a head of iceberg lettuce cut into wedges with our choice of Russian or French dressing drizzled on top. However at NO time was I EVER instructed in actually MAKING food. Mom did not have time and I am pretty sure she didn't think there was a teachable moment. I did learn to make cranberry relish gelatin salad. My participation consisted of sitting on the bread board to keep the metal grinder from slipping! Sit Harder! Don't let it move! One weekend we both took off for the day. Sue had decided to make hard boiled eggs and off we went. When we got back there was the most horrible smell as we went inside. Sue had left the eggs boiling as we let. The pan boiled dry, the eggs burned to a deep, black, smoking crisp and they had exploded. What an incredible stink. We opened doors and windows and cleaned up the mess. Double ugh.
Terror: I was lucky enough to have my uncle Carl offer me flying lessons. All I had to do was pay for the gas. So for several Saturdays, I learned to take off and land and eventually soloed. One time after I landed the rear wheel came off and Uncle Carl wanted me to go back up but I was leery. To be truthful, I was far too stupid to be terrified. One time Sue and I met a pilot at the Petaluma Sky Ranch. He offered to take us up for a spin. We took off and flew to the Nut Tree which has now disappeared into California history. On the way over, I sat in the front seat blinking innocently at all the many dials and indicators and such.
I pointed at something that looked familiar and asked brightly, "What is this one?"
The pilot deadpanned, "A clock."
Heh. We flew back over Lake Berryessa, he pointed out an island in the lake where he said he landed once and started to go down, we screamed in terror then I think. Phew!
Car Trouble: Sue went through cars like it was Saturday night at a four wheeled roller derby. The last one happened on our way to work on swing shift. As she pulled onto Hwy 101 we smelled gas. And it got pretty strong. Shortly there were huge sheets of three foot tall flame shooting out of the sides of the hood. She pulled over and fully expecting an explosion, both dived to the side of the road. Some guy pulled up, opened the hood and threw gravel on the fire and snuffed it out. We probably did not go into work that day. I was very scrupulous in using sick leave the instant it accrued. The only car trouble I had after that was learning to drive a 57 Volkswagen and having the crank shaft crack in half shortly after purchase. But that is another tale involving a pink slip to secure the labor until it was fixed/and or paid for.
Drunkenness: I was not raised in a teetotaler house but liquor was very scarce. I remember listening to a debate amongst the adult members whether or not Mogen David wine should be served at Thanksgiving dinner. Eventually cooler heads prevailed and I did not taste wine until several decades later. I was too early for white wine spritzers. I was gently introduced to hard liquor when I briefly lived with my cousin Carl and his wife Robin the summer of 1965. He liked Cuba Libra's which is rum and coke. Fortunately casual drinking did not become part of my life.
Drugs: Pot was available if you knew a friend of a friend and for about 20 dollars a kilo. It is much more expensive now that it is legal in Oregon. I was not into the culture very much, I never attended parties where people were casually smoking refer. I did attend a get together in Sausalito one time. Everyone was mellow from good food and the aforementioned. A young well dressed, long haired gentleman turned to me at one point and asked, "Would you like to fuck later?" I tried to not gape in astonishment and politely declined.
Sex: (Husband thinks I did not have any before he married me...) I became acquainted with a gorgeous young Airman from Hamilton. He was from Hawaii and was hapa Haole (half white). He played the guitar and took lovely photographs. I fell for him like a ton of pineapples. When it became clear to him that I was a willing virgin he muttered that he just couldn't go through the trauma of breaking in another one. I wasn't outraged but I did begin thinking of how to accomplish my eventual deflowering. Method and means were as yet unknown but I was determined to rid myself of that pesky virginity. A few months later my friend decided to go visit her sister whose husband was stationed in Winnemucca at the Airforce radar station. It was going to be New Years. Well, well, I says to myself, it will be girls choice! I remember walking into one of the downtown casinos with my friends, there were five of us dressed to the nines. There were also quite a few Airmen there staring at us in amazement. They were pretty sure we weren't prostitutes because they did not go into the casinos and stayed in their little houses by the river. It was a very enlightening weekend. I do not remember how it came about but apparently flirting turned into implied consent and by the end of the weekend I returned home mission accomplished courtesy of an experienced gentleman. When I got back to California, that lovely hapa Haole boy never stood a chance. Eventually my cousin informed me that the lovely Airman had to go to Japan TDY, uh huh.
Adventure: Usually consisted of lots of driving around, gas was cheap and away we went. I traveled cross country with Judy Jones and her daughter, Michael Ann. We drove to West Virginia in 33 hours. We stopped once by the freeway in Missouri but the semi's whipped by constantly rocking the car. We slept about an hour and decided to keep on going. Getting lost was part of it for sure. At one point we were driving down back roads past swinging foot bridges and eventually found our way to coal country in Gossip Bottom. We picked up moonshine from a stump and I eschewed the chance to sample it's delights.
One time Sue and I flew to Disneyland. We went to meet her fiancé and his friend for a double date. I was faintly scandalized to be asked by a guy for a date. Hey! This is Disneyland, cut that out!And don't take pictures in the Tiki hut!!! Ass hats!
Charming stupidity: Well perhaps not so charming. My friend and I had just come out of a nice bar in downtown San Rafael. A guy on a motorcycle was stopped at the corner waiting to turn. He smiled at me. I ask him for a ride. Away we went. I was just buzzed enough to enjoy it very much. The next time I rode I was on a motor cycle squeezing the life out of my first husbands cousin, Dennis. His ribs were never the same and I have not willing hopped on a two wheeled vehicle since. Yeah, that'll teach ya.
High Finance: In the day there were lots of banks offering all sorts of enticements to open an account. One particularly delicious one was a BBQ with Santa Clara style meats which was really wonderful. Sign me up for an account. I could deposit my weekly paycheck in person (direct deposit did not exist, it was stand in a long line thing). I merrily wrote my weekly rent check of $37.50 until the landlord told me that it bounced Oh no there is money in the bank. Bounced again, then AGAIN. What the heck is going on here!! What I did not know was that the bank was taking their fee out before honoring my check, well that added up to six bucks fairly quickly and I had to pay the landlord cash to get caught up. Duh, I learned reluctantly to leave enough in the account to account for monthly fees. A discussion about banking before leaving home may have been helpful had I been inclined to listen.
Crime: One time I went to visit a friend in Sausalito. Their downstairs apartment was next to the water break and the view across the bay was glorious. Their landlady lived upstairs and was a retired concert pianist. Her playing was usually a slow melodious something that I clearly would not have recognized being raised on Country tunes and Lawrence Welk. At any rate I slept on my friends couch that night planning to get up early before my car was towed. Dammit the cops turn out early, don't they? I was so ticked off. Kris walked with me while I stomped into the police office and asked about my car.
The officer rattled off "William Henry George..."
I sniped, "No! Royce! Ilene! Berglund!"
He continued "Zero, eight, three."
Oh that was my license number. Um, where is my car? At the impound yard. I turned in high dudgeon, left with Kris and stomped down the road. About halfway there, the humor of the situation got to me and I started giggling hysterically. That was a 25 dollar teaching moment.
Scandal: It happened the one and only summer during which I obtained an actual tan by dint of sleeping on the sunny morning Stinson Beach accessed by way of the five minute tunnel. Judy and I worked graveyard and we were in the habit of going there after getting off work from Fairchild, lathering up with suntan lotion and baking for a few hours. First time I did not peel like a boiled onion. One weekend the both of us went to the aquarium in Golden Gate Park. There was a good sized crowd in front of the displays. I was wearing a rather daring pink pantsuit with dramatic low back baring all that tanned back side. Apparently it was too much for someone because I felt the distinct several second impression of someone decidedly male press into me. WHAT! Elbows flying. I was pretty sure there was a French word that described the action and did not know for years that it was assault and battery. Huh. There was no #me too movement in 1966.
All righty then, that is all that I care to put to paper at the moment and granny is overdue for her nap which comes with lap kitty. Yawn.
