Tuesday, March 11, 2008

2008 Day Seventy Two

After work I stopped and gave my left arm to buy gas. Gas prices are crazy.

I took M to the airport. He is flying over to Bellevue for some training. He is having dinner with his friends that he knew from Premera. He will be back tomorrow night. I miss him already.

American Idol tonight they are going to sing Beatle music! My absolute favorite music!


I think I left off about popcorn balls and Halloween. . .

I loved Halloween when I was growing up It seemed every year it would get better and better. I had 2 costumes. One was Tweety Bird and the other was Sylvester the Cat. Like every holiday in our house we had a routine that we followed. After school and after homework and chores I would dress in my costume and watch American Bandstand. They would be dressed in costume too and they would play all the crazy Halloween themed songs. Then my Dad would come home from work. We would eat a quick dinner and by that time it was dark and he would take me trick or treating.

Down the street from the Walkers lived a bachelor man named Rex, same name as my dog which I thought was always funny. He had a pipe organ that took up his whole garage. On warm nights the neighborhood would grab folding chairs and put them in the street in front of his house and he would open his garage doors and give concerts. That organ was so loud it would vibrate the street and make our feet tingle. The music was enchanting.

The Locke family lived next door to Rex. Their daughter Beatrice, nicknamed Beechie, was my age. We were expected to be friends, but, we never hit it off. Not sure why. I remember she came over to our house to spend the night but got so homesick she was crying and had to go home. After that I really didn't have much to do with her even at our mother's insistance.

Further down the street was the Byrd family. Here was the craziest woman in the neighborhood. She was from Poland or some country like that so you bearly understood what she said. She was always screaming at any kids that came near their house. She had a son named Woody who would definitely become one of America's Most Wanted. Even at 5 years old he was notorious. His sister Mary was as sweet as she could be. Pretty, timid and very sweet. Its the only way I could describe her. We really didn't get a chance to get to know her because of her crazy mother. But we had several encounters with Woody and learned to steer clear of him.

Across the street lived the Ritters. Paul Ritter who was an executive at Southern Pacific Railroad was my Dad's best friend. They had two daughters Diane and Patty. We went to church with their family. We bbq'd, made homemade ice cream, went to drive in movies, travelled to the beach and did alot with them for many years. Paul had a sister who taught high school in Manteca. We drove over there one weekend and she made the yummiest fried onion rings I had ever tasted. Funny the things you remember. She was one of the first lesbian women I had ever encountered. Later the Ritters got divorced and Paul moved to San Leandro. We visited him a couple of times and I know my Dad missed him.

Those were the families we knew the best. Families came and went over the years, but I will always remember the first families with fond and happy memories. more memories to come...


pidomon said...

sounds a like when you were growing up was like me when I was growing up.

We had about four families, us the Mitchells, the Firestones, and our next door neighbors the Siskaninitz

Every weekend everyone was at one of those houses BBQ'ING playing cards enjoying the friendship that was there.

My great grandmother wrote a journal about her trip from the black forest in Germany to the United States.

You've inspired me to put that on line and then maybe who knows maybe I'll tell my story.

Have a great week see ya soon on the innertubes

Betty said...

When you stopped to get gas, they probably asked for your right arm as well.

I love reading about your life and getting to know you better.

Brave Sir Robin Hussein said...

My grandmother made popcorn balls every Halloween.

That's the only time she made them, once a year.

I hadn't hought about that in a long time.