Taint Sucky It's Kain Tucky

I am writing my latest load of crap from the back seat of a 1974 AMC Gremlin with my trusty bottle of Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill in my right hand while trying to figure out how best to lobby for the best selection to be played on the cassette player. After all, the stupid Loverboy tape has been played 4 frigging times already. How many times can you listen to You Take Me To The Top? Enough already.

Really, I am at my corporate office that usually produces my best work and as I seldom make any entries while I am at my home 20...you can assume that I am where I belong. Anyway, I stopped in and visited a good friend. A friend that has been in the view from way back in high school. It is funny, how few of these people really are there for you after this long. There are some that I have kept in touch with somehow. This guy has been there for me all along as well as his cool parents. The things we did are the stuff of legend. Or at least the stuff that appears legendary after enough beer. I am not sure, but none the less, it was a cool time. It is funny that I remember it so clearly with fondness because, I also remember being somewhat bored quite a bit of the time. I remember wanting more but, who knows what we really want. I guess I was just bored of that darned place and wanted something different. There were drinking contests, party fests, dates, races and fights that seemed to put a wrinkle in the normal part of our lives. There was the time that my friend told the car next to us that his tail light was out and the guy got violent and somehow the hatchet that belonged to my grandfather ended up embedded in the guys windshield as he tried to hit my friend with his car. He did not stop to return the hatchet. We were fun people that would fight at the drop of a hat. The fighting was just a way of changing the scenery a bit. We were all bored.

We all want something different that is why I joined the Navy. Different? You bet. High paying? No way. I was driving to work while in the Navy. The ship was stationed at Pier 28 in San Francisco on the Embarcadero. I was driving from Vallejo every morning and had quite a few variations of the view of the San Francisco skyline and the Golden Gate Bridge every single morning. All I could think about on the way to work was whether the traffic was going to allow me to get to work on time and agonizing about the fact that I needed to get my car into the shop before it broke down. I was too busy to enjoy one of the most beautiful places on Earth.

I was just this morning talking to my friend about this place at Mt. Baldy that we would park and stand outside smoking cigarettes and drinking beer. The elevation was about 5,000 feet with the City of Pomona far below. The mountains come together and form a "V" and at the bottom of the v is the Valley. The lights were beautiful and the mountain air without all the smog from below was refreshing. Beer tasted better and the conversation was always lively. The highway patrol would occasionally sneak into the little turnoff and try to catch us doing something or other. That is why we would stand outside of the cars. Upon first sight of the Chippy's, we would jettison our bottles down the mountainside and stand there looking innocent as though we were perhaps waiting on the train or a bus. It was an accepted game at the time and to not throw away your bottle was in some way disrespectful and crossing the line. You see, the police officers of old really did not want to have to bust you. But they would bust the dim-witted or the stupid.

I asked my friend if he truly missed Pomona. He replied that he did but that it had changed a lot and you really can't go back to that. I guess he is right. You can't ever go back home again. It is not there. Dedication :/