SEND IN THE CLOWNS

We got on the road to home about nine in the morning.  By the mile we felt better...going home...HOME...be it ever so humble, there is no place like home.  I told Blythe I still preferred driving to flying...."You get alot of perspectives when you drive...things move slower...a real sense of past, present, and future....."See that grain silo?....that is the bank account of some farmer's work...that is his savings...it is safer in that silo than in some bank....look how small it looks in the distance....look how it grows as we get closer...see it in its fullness as we pass it...how big it really is..look at it now...shrinking like a burning candle...now, it is gone....Silence is golden...as far as voices are concerned....voices....those who have arisen in public view and whose mouths are always voicing....The wind...blowing off of soy bean fields, dairy farms, hay fields...sweet, so very sweet,  the sound of silence, the sound of blood, sweat, and tears....the hard worker bending over his desk under lamp light, trying to figure how to beat the odds..his pencil moves by gnarled hand...he comes to the bottom line that his family can make it with decent rain and good prices....he goes to bed and falls asleep...the sleep of the laboring man is sweet...Honesty, hard work, resourcefulness are winning the game.....This will never work....Send in the Clowns......

WHAT THE NEIGHBORS SAID RE 839

I suggested to Blythe (B)  that as we were not on a spy mission and that we had broken no laws, that we forget any imaginations as to harm.  B suggested we park our truck in the driveway of 839 when we went to visit next door..rattle some cages, maybe.  Why not now?  Why not.   We drove back to the house for sale and parked in 839 drive.  Then we walked to house next door and knocked on the door.  An older woman answered and she heard our reason for knocking:  "We were interested in the house next door and wondered if she knew anything about the people who lived there and about how long the house had been on the market."   She was very nice and invited us in.  We introduced our selves and she said that she had been friends with the woman who lived there alone..."She was in her forties and single..very attractive...I assume she was single...no ring and she never spoke of a husband. There was a man who either lived there with her or else spent alot of time there....I don't know what the relationship was.....I didn't have good feelings about him...he never spoke to me..never smiled..A truck came by about once a week and unloaded a bunch of boxes into the garage.  One night, I was up late and I saw another truck back into her driveway all the way back to the garage and the boxes were loaded onto the truck and it drove away.  I had her over for a luncheon several times and she never once invited me over. One day, about a month ago, a moving van backed in and all of her belongings were loaded and then it drove off.  I never saw her again after that event.  Two days later, a man placed the for sale sign in her yard.  You are the first people I have seen who were interested in the house.  She never mentioned her last name...she just said her name was Blanche."   Blythe looked at me and winked as if to say   "I told you so".  We thanked the lady...(she never gave her name)..and went back to our truck.  I suggested we try my back door again to see if it was still un-locked......It wasn't.   As we had decided to bring all of our camping gear with us, we both hit upon the idea of going back up the Crest highway to our first meeting camp ground and roast weenies and spend the night there....."How romantic," B. said.   "Let's buy wine and ice and alot of groceries....we may never come down again"    A wonderful romance about to be re-kindled...lot's of fun too.   (to be continued)

VISIT WITH NEIGHBORS TO 839

Blythe walked around and drove our truck to where I was standing.  I suggested we drive over to Pelanconi Park where I played as a child.  There was a baseball field with bleachers on the North end and a playground on the South end.  We parked and strolled around the park...talking.  "Blythe, I don't know about you but I feel so lost in life.  I remember back to when you worked and when you came home, we had our wine and talking session on your veranda."   On a whim, I opened my own clinic and shut it down a short time later.  You went to school and got your Private Investigator License and we worked together on one case.  Then we got tired of that.  It is almost a curse that both of us have alot of money..we don't have to work and so here we are poking around in the past...trying to find something.  I take the blame for scrwing up your life...you were happy before we met, and now I have lured you into an open sea and we have no compass."    Her response was:  "Bob, I was not complete before we met.  I was empty.  Nothing is your fault because there is no fault....we are just mariners trying to find our Island.  This is interesting to me...you are interesting...you seem to draw unusual things our way....like the man who entered your old home...no big deal..but you made an interesting deal out of it....when we investigated that wacko lady, that was real interesting...nothing boring about you at all..my investigation license is still valid in California...let's see if you can create another thriller for us.....let's approach the neighbors to 839 and see if they have any info to offer in the course of investigation about the house for sale...."   I replied :  "Nothing else to do...I have a few other places in town I want to take you, but your idea fascinates me....I may have told you this, but Bob Key was an onery and fun guy for being so old...his hobby  was freiking people out.....one time he got in contact with a real estate lady and told her he wanted a house in a neighborhood near my emementery school.  She showed him a really nice and large house and he began acting real strange....when they went into one of the bathrooms, he got down on his knees and sniffed the bowl of the toilet....he asked her if it could handle large objects....she tried to maintain her composure and asked how many members to his family...he told her he was single, but there would be at least four ladies and the madame.  She drove him back to her office and made him sit in the back seat, where he sang to her.  She parked her car and ran into her office leaving him sitting in the back seat and just shaking with laughter."    Blythe said, "Sounds like fun, let's be a team and do things like that too."   It was at that time I wondered again how I passed the state test to practice Psychology.  This is because Blythe's idea appealed to me...both of us like to laugh....sooo...we put our heads together and began to map out our first gag.....But, first, we needed to talk to the neighbors and try to find out who the man was that showed up.....(to be continued)

TOURING GLENDALE WITH BLYTHE

Both of us had a hard time getting to sleep last night.  Just about the time I thought she was asleep, she would say something; same with her.  I told her that I thought the Motel lady was fantisizing about the ghosts.  "I'll bet she has little loud speakers planted in trees and all over so she can make strange sounds come over them.  ....I think it might be a way for her to establish a rumor which would cause the thrill seekers to come here."  I said.  At any rate, we finally got to sleep and slept well.   After we got dressed and had breakfast, we set out in a tour.  I wanted to start at the beginning so I took her to 839 Norton.  I knocked at the door and no one answered.   The house was all original and that was unusual as most of the houses had add ons and looked little like they used to look..but 839 was original.  To my great surprise, there was a for sale sign in the front yard.  I wrote down the name of the Realtor and we walked around to the back....thinking someone inside would see us and think we were interested in buying.  The back yard was virtually the same other than a different tree was growing where the Chinese Elm used to be.  "This is incredible...most people have put pools in their back yards....this is just like it was except for the beautiful flowers and bushes around the border of the grass."   I walked up on the open back porch and peered inside...there were no curtains and the house was empty of furnishings.  The back door to the dining room was locked, but when I tried my door to my bedroom, it opened.  I told  Blythe that this was such good luck that I smelled a fish somewhere.  She said "Maybe if you step inside, you will be ten years old"  I actually was a little ancey about doing just that, but, we did.  It looked slightly smaller than I rememered.  I opened the closest door and the old shoe rack was still there.   It was a metal rectanguler box recessed into the wall with rods spanning side to side to put your shoes in.   We went down the hall and I said "When I was little, I used to ask Mom to leave the hall light on as the dark scared me when I went to bed."    I had a story to every room including the living room when I ran naked from the bath tub to the living room to talk to my dad and the neighbor girl was visiting and I didn't know it.  She erupted in laughter and I ran yelling back to the bath.  We were back in the living room and we saw a car pull up and park right behind my four wheeler.  A rather tall and slender man dressed in a blue suit got out and looked inside our truck He then looked right at the house we were in,  he then walked down the driveway and we saw him pass by the kitchen window.  He was headed for the back and we felt a little fear and wondering if he would come in.  "Maybe he is the realtor"  Blythe said.  We rushed to the front door and tried to open it, but the realtor's lock was on the outside and the door would not open.  We heard his key in the main back door and with no other choices, we ducked into the clothes closet and pulled it shut. "Why are we hiding...we have done nothing wrong...it is reasonable to explain we were intersted in the house...we did not break in..." Blythe said.  I countered  "He showed a little too much interest in our truck...he looked at the inside...then, he looked at this house wondering if we are here....It's very common for cars to park on the street...why was he so curious..maybe concerned"  We could hear his footsteps on the now bare wooden floors..he went into every room..we could hear doors opening and closing....Then he left and locked the back door.  We tip toed out and looked through the front window which still had the venitian blinds lowered.  He went to his vehicle, got in, and drove off.   "Let's get out of here'  Blythe said.  "Let's wait a little while, when we leave, let's go through the back gate on the fence that is between this and the house in back.  Then, one of us will walk to the truck from the street in back and pick the other one up."   Blythe looked at me and asked "Are we being silly?"   "Maybe, but recall you were a P.I. once and you know how questionable people act...I tell you, his lingering around our truck was way glaring.....(to be continued)

GLENDALE WITH BLYTHE....STORIES

1982,,,Glendale, California.....The radical change of Glendale was already in progress.  The phone book was already four times thicker than it was ago.  A large number of immigrants from Armenia had moved there and brought their money with them.  The first hints of big business were manifest in an ever growing number of tall office buildings downtown.  The Pacific Electric Rail Cars were gone.  Even the beautiful Verdugo Hills were being raped by terraced lots and big homes....climbing higher up the hills every day.  I told Blythe that I wanted her to select the place where we would stay a few days.  I always felt better having a place nailed down.  We found the old Glendale Hotel was still in business....We looked at a few rooms and decided they were way passed their hay day and we passed on that one.  I then remembered the May Lane Motel up on the corner of Foothill and La Crescenta.  It was a landmark of sorts and even a few movies had been filmed there.  We drove up and it was still there.  We parked next to the office and no one was in sight.  No cars in the parking places.  A yard sprinkler was on and throwing water over the very green grass.  There were little pin wheels stuck in the ground and they twirled when a breeze came their way.  There was a profusion of flowers everywhere.....Yellow flowered Hibiscus, Camelias....It reminded me of some one's hobby..just own a Motel and flavor it to the owner's delight. We decided to sit in a lawn swing and just enjoy relaxing....We were facing  South towards Glendale and Los Angeles....it was downhill all the way...sloping down from the base of the San Gabriel Mountains to where it leveled off quite abit around Glendale College.  There was a draw between where the Verdugo Hills met the ground and the smaller San Raphael Hills which ran North to South.  A cool Sea breeze  was blowing up the draw and we could see the gray Pacific fog way down there..moving in for the evening blanket over us.  A sudden breeze sent the windmills into a happy moment of fluttering their little "wings".....A waft of the Roses planted along the front of the lawn....A humming bird stopped in mid air right in front of us and his wings gave us a little buzzing concert..and then he was gone.   Blythe said:  "This place is pure magic..I sure hope the rooms are decent"   Then, the land lady sent us a hello from the office.  We waved and walked to her.  She showed us a room in back and it was, in its way, what the grounds were in their way.   Old, but maintained,  sinks and plumbing probably original, but they worked and were shiny from cleaning.  There were the most beautiful pictures on the walls.....many faces, and still lifes.....We said we would take it and would be staying for maybe five days.  We went to the office and I signed the paper work and paid her.  She told us something about May Lane.  Her Father built it in 1940 and it had remained in the family all this time.  She said she was not aggresive in renting out as she kept it more to keep a memory alive than to make it pay for itself.  She also told us that there were visitors who sometimes strolled across the lawn at night and faded away.  "There is a rumor that the place is haunted and the frightening stories have been around for forty years and the curiosity renters often leave in the middle of the night.  I guess it was too convincing for them"   Neither Blythe nor I was particularly afraid of ghosts simply because neither of us believed in them, so we took it with a grain of salt.  The lady said that "No one has ever been harmed here and these apparitions are very friendly....just wanting to visit places in their memories like many of us do.   They do not intrude into the living spaces, but several reports on them peeking in the windows late at night.....don't worry, there are nice curtains on the windows."   Blythe and I looked at each other and said....."This is our bag"    (to be continued)  

NERVOUS, BUT CURIOUS 1944-1948

I was not a sickly child, but I was sick quite abit during our first three years there.  In my short life, I had experienced nausea and vomiting and I became deathly afraid of that sickness.  So leary of it, that I could imagine an onset of nausea very easily.  I was also plagued with intense longing for my Mother and the safety at home when I was in the first and second grades. For reasons unknown, I developed a fear of not being perfect in the work books and tests.  I remember looking out of the class room windows and longing for my Mother.  I am not sure about this, but I suspect this was laying the ground work for my rebellion that came upon me in Junior High School...I transformed myself into a sulky little punk who made sure it was clear to all concerned that I didn't give a damn about passing their tests nor conforming to their rules.  But, I knew when I had pushed the envelope far enough, and could become a sweet little "ass kisser"  when things got hot.  Case in point:  1953,  Mr. Charles E. Cannon, Principal of Clark Jr. High, called me into his office and he had feed back from my teachers on how rebellious I was.  I could read between the lines, and he was ready to expel me.  I changed my tune and told him how sorry I was if I had offended him. He said "Now, you are talking turkey."   I had never heard that phrase before, but I assumed talking turkey was kissing ass when the ass needed kissing.  He did not expell me.!   But, I need to go back to 1948 or so.  When the war was over, there was a sudden explosion of toys ...metal toys on the market..such as bicycles!  The bicycle became my escape mechanism at speeds I never attained on my scooter or tricycle.  It took a few spills to find out what it would do and things it did not like doing.  I  learned how to "brodie"  which was riding fast and then slamming on the brake while making a sharp turn.  The skid mark was the report card on how good of a brodie it was...the wider, the better. I learned all of the no-no's like your foot slipping off the pedal and crashing down on that bar that ran from seat to steering column.  Not good for the balls..and it made me wonder why girl's bikes did not have that bar...they don't have balls.  The house my parents bought had a nice feature....there was a door in my bedroom that led to the back porch.  It took three years for it to dawn on me.....I could escape into the night through that door without disturbing my sleeping parents !   That coupled with my bicycle parked just outside, opened the doors of opportunity....I had a tremendous crush on twin girls in my class...they were so cute...to love one was to love them both.  Arleene and Adrienne.........they were so mysterious to me.....somewhat quiet, but glancing around and making mental notes.....I loved them both and I knew where they lived via the phone book.  A ride from my house to theirs was about two miles..uphill.   I did that quite a few times...way late...when the street lamps were haloed in fog and all was quiet.   Many times, I parked my bike across the street from their house and just longed....windows all dark...all asleep, and they never knew that I loved them so....Then, the ride back to my bed....so magic....I found a secret friend just standing in the window on the second floor of an apartment Bldg that faced Glenoaks.  The little Green Man made of glass...Mr Wizard Wick.  His job was to just stand there and emit pleasant aromas in the entry hall to the upstairs units.  I visited with him and told him I liked him alot and I knew how he felt.  This is exactly why I think childhood is the apex of human experience....a child's imaginery World that is so normal for a child..but not an adult......Why so?  Who laid down that rule?  What a raping of the mind through the sterilizing of lovely experiences.....I got home ok. slept well, and Mom and Dad never knew....They would not understand..anyway.....(to be continued)

MOVING TO CALIFORNIA 1944

Blythe was either being polite or she was really fascinated by my life stories..  We had gone to my three places of my best memories and I asked her if she would like to start back home to Sacramento.  She had another idea  "Let's go to Glendale ....I've never been there"   I said it sounded good to me.  We went back to the Mayo Hotel and packed and left out the next morning.  I said "We will take 66 to Albuquerque and then head South ....we will go through your namesake, Blythe, California on the border of Arizona and California.  I want to take your picture standing next to the "Welcome to Blythe"  sign. As she was a good driver, I let her drive some to give me a rest.  I asked her if I talked too much and she said  no, "It's the only way I can learn about your life, and it is anything but boring."   That was good to hear as I seemed to have something to say about every mile, every turn in the road.  We were on the Turner Turnpike which ran from Tulsa to OKC.  So, with her encouragement to blab, I started in:  After my Father left Mead Bros., he was hired by Amerada Petroleum Corp. as an accountant.  After a few years in Tulsa, he was offered a position at the Los Angeles Office, which he took.  Homer Mead of Mead Bros., had retired and lived in a nice home in Beverly Hills and offered to let us stay withy him until we found a home .  Someone mentioned Glendale as being a nice, safe town and my parents shopped around.  They finally found a house on Norton Ave.  Two bedroom and one bath..nice enough.  Good neighborhood but, there were alot of kids of all ages. Glendale was all white and people of color were tolerated, but not welcomed there. This was in 1944.  It was noised around that people of color had better be out of town by Sunset.  Our block, the 800 and 900 block, was between two major roads.  Glenoaks on the North which was two lane each way with two street car tracks down the middle.  San Fernando Rd. was to the South and it was a very heavily travelled road with lots of trucks.  To the South of San Fernando Rd., were the Southern Pacific Railroad tracks, and to the South of those was Grand Central Air Terminal which had been converted to all  military use.  Fighter planes and Bombers were flown there for re-conditioning, therefore, the sky was filled with very interesting aircraft for a kid to look at.  During the last year of the war, aircraft engines could be heard running on test blocks day and night.  It was not loud, but you could hear them when outside.  That airport became one of my favorite haunts after I grew a little older and knew my way around.  It was rather easy for an adult to move to a vastly different environment, but not so easy for a five year old.  I was moved from a quiet and familiar world of soft voices and friendly people and my little friends, to a world of strangers who did not look friendly to me.  One of the few memories I have is that when the moving van pulled up  in front of our new home, there was line of kids standing there to see what we had...it seemed.  During the first few weeks there, I longed to establish at least a couple of kids my age that I could trust.  There was a Murphy family across the street and  the youngest was Jackie.  We hit it off pretty quick.  He had two older brothers...Tommy and Charles.  One day I was with J. and T. came onto the scene and made J. mad.  J called him a "Son of a Bitch".....I had never heard that before and thought it was a compliment and I said.."He really is a Son of  Bitch"    The family to the North of the Murphys was the Morrow family.   Even back then as a five year old, I could tell that Billy Morrow was different.  He like to hide behind a bush in his front yard, and when I came out on my bicycle, he would "launch an attack" .  He came running out making some really strange war hoops and chase me.  He often times wrestled me to the ground, and one day, I came home crying and my Mom asked why.  I said that I had just beat Billy up and it broke my heart.  I can't remember that, but my Mom told me that much later in life.  There were constant war fares between different factions of kids on the block, so, one day Jimmy H. might be an enemy, and the next he would be on our side.   That time of my life was a rapid moulding of my perceptions of life.....I developed my own secret world, learned to steal, learned all the secret places to find the next frightening things......and just go on...much more to tell....(to be continued)

MOVING ON TO OTHER PLACES TULSA, OK

After our most ....haunting...trip to 216, I told Blythe I wanted to show her my first home and it was far so we would have to drive.  We walked to the Mayo parking Garage and headed out for 58th St just off of Peoria.  In 1985, when we were there, the town had expanded way far south of 58th,   but back in early 40's, it was way out in the country.  Farm fields, orchards, with a house here and there, but not many.  Our red brick house on its acre of land was still there and pretty well kept up.  No one was home, and so we walked around to the back yard.  The old tree just outside my bedroom window was still there..huge and gnarled and it looked like it was tired of living....My bedroom was actually a wooden extension built off the back of the original house. I told Blythe that this place probably had more to do with laying the ground work of my infatuation with secret places and vibes from nature than any other place in my life.  "Everything was mysterious, inviting, yet was scary.  When my Mother hung the sheets  out to dry in the wind, their blowing scared me alot.  I was terribly afraid of lightning storms at night and ran my Mother through a question time before going to bed  "Is it going to lightning or boom boom?."   She always said no and sometimes, she lied.  She read extensively from Childcraft books, and there were a number of Children's Poems I can still remember.  Her lying beside me at nap time and her soft voice, and my entering into dream land set me up for missing her so when we moved to California and I started school.  In the very early grades, I cried for her on occasions.  I developed an appreciation for music in my first home.  My parents had a cabinet radio with a pull out record player.  They also had some classical pieces and Scherazade really reached deep into  me....I would dance around in my diaper to the music and one day, it fell off, and my Aunt Mimi laughed...It made me mad, so I went over and slapped her.  My first awareness of becoming aware of and interested in ..my little thing down there..is vivid in my memory.  I was in the old cobwebby garage and I needed to pee.  I saw an old dusty pop bottle on the dirt floor and I got it and pushed my thing into the opening and peed.  I made a good seal with the bottle because as the urine rose, it pushed air out..or tried to..and when pressure built up, it suddenly erupted in a whoosh and sprayed me with what I had so generously put in the bottle.  That totaly fascinated me.....WHY?     Car grills had a great impact on me...some of them smiled and some looked in pain.  When my folks had company, I can still remember the cars turning into the drive with that huge mouth waiting to eat me up.  Lot's of things like waking up with an eyelash in my eye and screaming for Mommy....getting soap in my eyes....first feeling of possessiveness when a little visiting boy played with my toy truck....and..when my Dad decided to get rid of our dog...he took me and the dog out aways and just dumped him out.  He then sped away and I looked out the back window and saw him running...but..loosing ground....Back then, people out there dumped their garbage down on the banks of the Arkansas River.  My dad could not get the garbage to come out of the five gallon container..he kept swinging it up so it would come out...it did come out..went straight up and rained down on him...I was very interested in the sand shovels that scooped sand down at the river....often times, they would take me to see the sand shovel.....and so....we all have our memories, fears, and moments of learning something for the first time.....God Bless You....b

MY EXCURSIONS ....SUMMER 1953

On week days, Mimi went to work at the clock shop which was downtown.  She traveled to and from work via a cab.  Both Grandma and Aunt had a penchant for costume jewelry and perfumes.  Mimi also had a nice collection of dresses in the closet.  Every work day, it was a major project for Mimi to get dressed for work.  She would look in the closet and make her choice....the only two choices I can remember was the "silk chantung" or the "dotted swiss"....Then the jewelry.   Finally she would yell  "Mom, here's my cab."   Grandma would walk out to the alley on the other side of the white picket fence  (passing Nora's and Lem's house)   and help Mimi into the cab.  Mildred walked using those heavy braces and crutches...her legs were locked stiff and she would lean to one side and swing a leg foreward and then do same with other leg.  Sometimes, she fell and it was a frightening experience that made her cry.  When she was at work, Grandma was doing a variety of things like the wash, cleaning..etc., so that left me alone to invent things to do.  I walked alot that Summer..going everywhere...exploring..talking to people.   My Father sent money to them to help with my expenses and a little of it was funneled my way by Grandma.  As I told you, Grandma told me to not keep company with Carla...but....we did make plans through the open windows at night and would meet somewhere at a certain time.  Grandma and Mimi went to church every Sunday and I enjoyed going with them..lots of cute girls in Sunday School..and I  fell in love with them all.  I spent alot of time down at Tick of Time Clock shop and learned how to take apart and clean Meter Clocks used to measure gas flow at oil  refineries and pipe lines.  This was long before we discovered that certain hydro-carbons were cancer causing, and both Oscar and I would sit at the bench in the back and stir parts in Benzol to clean them.  I liked to walk the two miles to Newblock Park which was a large open area with lots of trees and a huge swimming pool. I liked to look at the girls..especially their legs....On that walk to the park, I crossed over a bridge that passed over a number of railroad tracks.  One day, I saw a train approaching slowly and as the Diesel engine passed underneith, I dropped a heavy stick of wood I found on the bridge and it hit a large fan turning on the top of the engine.  Splinters went every where and I prided my self in my aim.....Mimi will be home soon and we can watch TV together and laugh.  Every day was an opportunity to see how I could make my presence known.....and I usually found a way.....(to be continued)

MORE ON 216 HOME

As I took Blythe from room to room in Grandma's and Mimi's house of long ago, I told stories to her as they came to mind.  The kitchen was very small and cramped.  The old washing machine was here I said as I pointed to a space.   "Grandma was an excellent cook, but not a gourmet like your Father....nobody could make fried chicken like she could...I remember when I was a bout nine, they both came back to stay with us in Glendale for several months.  My Father took us to a place where we bought a live chicken.  When we got home, Grandma took the chicken into the back yard and wrung its head off.  It was so shocking to me....she grabbed it by his head and just swung him around until his head came off...there was this bony neck bone sticking out and the chicken ran around crazy like until it just fell over.  Then she plucked it and boiled it in water and pulled out the remaining feathers...it stunk so bad....then she cut it all up and took out all the guts....I could not understand how such a wonderful old lady could be so violent...But, the end result was fried chicken that beat Col Sanders who would follow with his KFC chain".  We strolled into the living room and I told more stories about the wonderful Summer of 1953....Finally, we went out to the front porch and sat down in the old swing which was still there.  The abandoned Skelly Gas Station was still there and, in a way, it looked pretty much the same except for the tall grass and weeds in the yards and the peeling paint on the once white houses.  "Only old people lived on this street..mostly ladies whose time was spent in tending their flower and vegetable gardens.  They worked from early morning until it got too hot...and they all disappeared to the inside of their homes.  I used to walk down the street when they were working and talk with them.  They seemed so glad that a boy would take interest in them.  They often invited me in and gave me ice tea or ice cream .  The insides of their homes were fascinating..lots of antique furniture and lovely old depression era glass ware.  Some of them had evaporative coolers in the windows where water dripped over a woven excelsior or what ever you call it and the waft of cool and musty air seemed to make me sleepy.  There was an air of sadness in those old homes.....the leftovers from life...all they had..memories...you could feel their weariness from a lifetime of hard work..and the atmosphere in the homes was like a great lying down to rest from the very long day...lifetime...that is why Tulsa fascinated me....the sunsets and the nighttime...you could sense how hard life was...many tired people...some young, some old..but it was like a weariness of life was coming out of the ground after a day of blistering Sun hammered it in.....Now, they are all gone and forgotten,, gone are their Iris flowers...the vegetable gardens....their Sun Bonnets were hung on some hook for the last time....Blythe, now I am glad that we made this last visit to my home...."      She did not respond, she had fallen asleep !!

POKING AROUND 216 S. FRISCO

After the excursion to the old house in back, we turned our attention to one of the units where Bertha and Mildred lived from 1948 to about 1960. Bertha was my Father's Mother and Mildred (Mimi) was his crippled sister.  She had Polio when a small child and had a number of operations to fuse her back.  She was fitted with heavy iron braces  and used crutches,  She learned to repair watches and worked at the Tick of Time watch and clock shop downtown.  I have told detail on her in previous stories.  Back then, Frisco was a tree lined street where the branches met each other over the street.  One side of the 200 block was a row of white frame duplexes with one family on one side and the other family on the other.  All of the rooms were end to end. Mildred made the income and Grandma was the home maker and took care of Mildred.  Their home was nicely furnished and it felt so homey.  I loved going there in the Summers.  I felt so accepted just as I was..so relaxing to me.  It had an ideal front porch with a porch swing and two metal lawn chairs.  There was a commanding view of the downtown skyscrapers that  just seemed to suddenly spring up from the ground. There was a Skelly Gas Station right across the street and a Safeway Food store a little ways down Third Street.  Their home was only two doors from Third.  I might add that on the corner of Third and Frisco was the notorious Je-Re-Co Club where the real low lifes went to get drunk and carouse.  Many fights in the early hours of the morning and I used to watch them fight in the street from the safety of Grandma's front porch.  Drunk women turned the air blue with there cursing and often women would fight..sounds of breaking glass and the works.  It really scared me.  Another thing that scared me were the thunder storms which usually came in at night.  I never liked loud noises and the sound from a close lightning strike  rattled my rib cage..so very  loud.  I remember lying in my little bed and looking into the small area that was a foyer to the bathroom, my room, and Grandma's and Mimi's bedroom.  The bathroom window faced the West..where the storms came from.  When a storm was coming I could see the flashes of light on the wall of that little foyer.  As  Blythe and I walked around the duplex, I paused at the back door and looked up and saw a hook screwed into the wall just under the eave.  "I screwed that hook in there in 1953...I hung my kerosene lantern on it....I loved my kersosene lanterns and brought one with me"  I tried the back door and it would not open..so I gave it a good kick like the Police do and it opened.  "This was my bedroom and there are the two windows through which Carla watched me undress and also we talked alot through our windows after we had gone to bed."  Blythe went over and looked out the window and across to the next duplex... only about seven feet between them.   "I wonder what ever happened to Carla"  Blythe said.  "That would be interesting....I hope she had good parents who nurtured her and took her to Church.....she was kind of a haunting figure in my memory."  I said.  We went  into the 5x5 foot foyer and looked into the bathroom.  The old water heater and the tub and sink and the stool.  I told Blythe that the only cooling they had until the Summer of '54 was a Homart three speed window fan that blew air out so air would come in through open windows.  It brought hot air in and when it hit 110 in 1954, they bought a window refrideration unit and it was in the dining room window.  We then went into Grandma and Mimi's bedroom which was not big, but adequate. Both of them slept in a double bed which was pushed up against the wall on one side of the bed.  "Every night and every morning, Bertha would unlace and re-lace Mimi's braces from hip to ankle.  Mimi slept on the outside and Grandma crawled over Mimi to get in bed. There was a hand woven and framed piece that hung over the head of their bed....it said   ...What is Home Without a Mother.....Grandma married John when she was only sixteen years old.  They lived in a smaller town North of here named Adair.  John was spoken of as a "real catch"  and I guess Grandma caught him.  He was a descent man, but nothing seemed to work out for him.  He failed in an attempt to run a grocery store.....after they moved to Tulsa in 1922, he landed a job with the Tulsa World Paper and was let go for some reason.   He failed mentally to the point he was put in Eastern state Hospital which was a mental institution.  My Dad went to visit him once and John thought he was a baseball umpire and was calling a game in his room.  My Dad went out side and just wept.  John died in 1944 and I can faintly remember going to his funeral.  My Dad was still in high school, and when they moved to Tulsa in 1922, my dad dropped out of school and went to work to help support the family.  Mildred was crippled by then and the only way she could move about was to sit on the floor and scoot her self around using her arms.  Grandma worked at scrubbing walls and what ever she could find to do.  Dad went to accounting school at night and worked during the day.  He obtained his degree in accounting and went to work for a Mead Brothers Drilling Contractors.  He did well and Homer Mead really liked my Father.  The Meads were a hard drinking bunch and went to parties where prominant oil people were in attendance.  At one of these parties, My Father saw a young lady on a couch and she was lying down with eyes closed.  That lady was my Mother !   Dad fell in love at first sight and went over and kissed the maiden.  They dated quite alot and my Father was so smitten, he was always on her door step.  Both of them decided they were seeing too much of each other and decided to stay apart for a week.  My Mother went to a movie alone as did my Father.  It was one of those grand downtown theatres.  The usher seated my Mother and pretty soon he seated a man who had just come in.  He seated him right next to my Mother.  That man was my Father !!!      They decided it was meant to be and left the movie together.....and..here I am to prove it."...Blythe found all of this to be so interesting.   I suggested we look at the rest of the house and promised her that there would be a story to every room..    (to be continued)

GOING THROUGH THE OLD ABANDONED HOUSE

On the walk over to Frisco St. I told Blythe about Aunt Nora and Uncle Lemuel Mauzy.  "I am not sure just where the Mauzys fit into the family tree....all I know is my Mother referred to them as Aunt and Uncle.  I am not sure they had any childen.  Lem was a carpenter.  When I was here in 1953, I was fourteen years old and onery.  My Mother...my own Mother called me a little prick once.  Back then, the Mauzys were quite old and just lazed around the house.  They didn't drive then.  I was fascinated with the lack of design of the house....obviously, it was built for creature comforts only with little concern for design.  The kitchen was tiny, and the adjoining room which I supposed to be the dining room was just a big space with doors off of it going here and there.  Their living room was also their bedroom...One bed crammed in a corner and a dresser and some chairs and a small table.  There was an old pendulum clock like an old school clock.  The small bathroom was off the dining room and it had an old linoleum floor.  There was an old pot bellied wood burning heater in their living/bedroom.  Only God knows how long they lived there...I remember visiting them when I was only two or three. Both of them died in the mid fifties and I cannot tell you if it has been lived in since, but we can probably tell if we can get in.  We waided through knee high grass and weeds....only hints of the white paint remained on the outside walls and most of it was old bare wood.We had to tear vines away from the back porch door and found the back porch had an old washing machine with a hand crank roller for squeezing water out of clothes. From there we entered the kitchen with its old plumbing  the paint on the cabinets had peeled.  I remember there were two large tin boxes installed in one cabinet..one of the boxes had a hand crank to sift the flour and send it through the spout that stuck out the bottom of the cabinet.  The other was for sugar.  I opened the door and the dispensers were still there !   "I would sure like to take them out and keep them"  I said.  From looking around,  my guess was that it had been lived in until the area was condemned.  We went into the living/bed area and everything had been removed, even the cast iron stove.   "Here is where they lived out their last days, I can still see them both..dozing in their chairs...Lem died first..then Nonie..thats what I called her....I came over to visit them alot in "53 and the neighbor girl came with me some....her name was Carla...can't recall her last name...she was tan and thinking about it..I think she was part Mexican...but..she was so cute...Nonie didn't really care for her and told me she thought she was naughty and not good for me...Nonie was somewhat senile and one time she could not find her flashlight and she accused me of stealing it...she later found it and came over to Grandma's house and apoligized..I was not very gracious in foregiving her..".let's go upstairs to the attic."  We walked back into the big open room which was a sort of dining area and a "union station"  for going to other rooms.  I opened the door to the attic and was met with a steep flight of stairs..the door squeeked and Blythe said she was already afraid to go up.  I told her it was creepy up there and I was always seeing something move out of the side of my eye and when I turned to look, there was nothing there.  We went up and the clothes racks were still there, but all the old clothes removed.  The whole East wall was one long rack of old clothes and they were dusty and dank....The ceilng followed the roof line...not a flat ceiling.  "Here is where Carla and I took our clothes off....she wanted to try on Nonie's old clothes as Nonie was a small woman and Carla thought they would fit.  Looking back on it, I still am not sure seducing me was her main motive  she was only fourteen and even though she was very interested in my anatomy....that is just normal.  She seemed to have no bashfull tendencies...that is not normal....she enjoyed the way she undressed....she was wearing Jeans and she unsnapped them slowly and drug them down slowly....then after they were off...she just stood there with those tanned and shapely legs which went well with her pink panties.  Back then, they did not sell Bikini panties..they were all full..high topped...so she made Bikinis by rolling the waist band down until the rolled band was an inch above bare leg....then she pulled them up as high as she could  and turned to look in a full length mirror leaning against the wall....I was getting an erection and it was getting uncomfortible...not enough room ...She turned back towards me and walked up face to face....then she started unbottoning my pants and slid them slowly down my legs until they were at my feet.  My undies were pushed out towards her due to my..condition....Aunt Nonie's words plus years worth of  Sunday School made their bid, but I was so turned on.  She said I looked bashful and then she took her fingers and begans to slide them back and forth through my undies...the material was rubbing the ridge on the head and I began to feel very great sensations down there...after a while, I went off in my pants and it squirted through the material and landed on the bare part of her stomach.  She pulled her hand away and said something like "You really can squirt....I heard boys do that"   Then, Nonie's voice came up the stairway...."What are you doing up there..come down this very minute"  I pulled my pants back up and she hurriedly pulled hers up and  my condition had not resided yet, so I did what the boys have to do sometimes, I pulled my shirt out and let it hang down and hide it.  We went straight out the back door and said good by to Nonie on the run.  "As to why I am telling you this, Blythe, you said you wanted to know every thing." Blythe replied:  "I wish that I had had a child hood like you did."    She always had something comforting and funny to say in difficult moments.  Nonie had a talk with Bertha and  my Grandmother told me she did not want me to associate with Carla anymore.....That was my first sexual experience and it would be thirty more years before I would have another....at a certain camp site up in the Mountains.....(to be continued)

CHANGING MY TUNE

We were on the Turner Turnpike and it had been pretty quiet between us and I had thought about some things.  I regreted telling Blythe about Bob Key and his craft. I also regreted making this trip back to where I was born.  I spoke:  "Blythe, to be honest, I don't know why we came back here; I also regret telling you about Bob Key.  It is the kind of thing that makes one doubt my mental state."  She said:  "Bob, it does not matter....you are you and I love you.  As for coming back, I am glad you are doing this, I want you to take me around and share your memories."   We checked in at the Mayo Hotel which was still going, though signs of its deteriorating.  The Mayo had a nice lounge which was legal now since liquor by the drink was made legal in 1959.  We got a room on the top floor looking West.  The Crystal Ballroom was one floor above, but had closed due to lack of patronage.  At one time, it was an elegant dance floor with crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.  Downtown was fading due to the many large shopping centers and entertainment centers in the suberbs.  Many closed businesses that had a rich heritage.  Downtown theatres were closed and a few torn down.  We watched the news and found out that the Cimmaron Ballroom was to be demolished the next day.  It was the home of Leon McAuliff and the Texas Playboys for years.  It also served as a USO club during the war.  Many great Country and Western Stars performed there in its hey day.   I told Blythe I would like to walk a few blocks and see the old building before it would be no more.  On the outside, the building was a master piece in art deco...that art form came to its zenith in the 1920's and this building was a keeper. Alas, the planners thought the space would make a good parking lot.  I noticed a front door was standing ajar and I wanted to go in.  We went in and were greeted with a cold and dank odor....we could hear water dripping from somewere.  We felt our way into the auditorium and our eyes adjusted to the darkness.  A few broken window up above let in a little light. It was a shambles.  I told Blythe I wanted to sing the last  song in the old, historic Cimmaron Ballroom.  I felt my way to the stage and belted out Ghost Riders in the Sky.  Blythe clapped !  I thought of a phrase from James Joyce:  :One by one they all became shades.  We walked on further to the Nat'l Bank of Tulsa which was the tallest in Tulsa for many years.  My father used to work on one of the floors.  During the collapse of 1929, a few leaped to their deaths from that building.  In 1949, television came to Tulsa and the KOTV transmission tower was placed on top of the NBT.  During its installation, the workman dropped a wrench and it fell all 22 stories and hit the sidewalk and then bounced across the street and hit a woman in the head and killed her. One day, my Father was at work and happened to look out of the window and saw a line of cars stopped at a red light.  A lady exited one of the cars, ran to the car in front of her and shot the driver in the head....Killed him.  Probably bad blood between them.  We walked a few more places like the abandoned Orpheum Theatre which was a great and beautiful theatre in its day.  Twinkles of light like stars in the ceiling, marble statues, and a man played a pipe organ during intermission.  I saw the movie Shane with Alan Ladd there in the Summer of 1953.  I said "Blythe, I saw that movie with the girl visiting next door.  She was cute and very precocious....she stripped naked in Aunt Nora's attic and talked me into doing the same.  She was fascinated with ....me.....and the changes......"  Oh, my, Blythe wanted to hear all about it and what else we did.  I told her I would tell her later...(maybe she will forget)..to be continued....

TELLING BLYTHE THE TRUTH ON BOB KEY

We were well into New Mexico and started seeing the "Tucumcari Tonight" signs.  Our conversation was lagging and I decided to break the silence. "Blythe, I want to tell you something that I have hidden from you because I thought it was just too much for you to swallow.  Surely you will think me sincere but beset with a mental problem.  Blythe replied   Honey, I told you at the beginning that sharing everything is paramount with me.  Even if you were a little bit crazy, I would love you the same.  But, consider that after you tell something, you can never erase it from their memory...so..you be the judge"  "I told you how I met a man named Bob Key when I was thirteen and how he changed my life around.  My parents trusted him and liked him very much. Bob and I had a secret and I understood well why he wanted it that way.  He told me the story of his childhood and it paralled mine.  It was like he was a grown up me and had come back in time to turn me away from things that made him become what he became.  He was a recovering alcoholic for one.  He never made much of himself for another.  A very strange man contacted him one day and asked how he would feel about volunteering himself for an experiment.....an extremely strange experiment to be conducted through him, but directed by a highly intelligent people on a Planet named Urserene.  This is what he told me, remember.  The experiement envolved time travel from 2012 when he was contacted, back to 1952 when I was twelve. The Urserenes had one of their agents who was assigned to contact me and work with me over a period of several years.  That agent was Bob Key.  He looked very normal..just like you and I.   He told me after the fact that his time on a very strange Island somewhere on Earth was necessary as it was a boot camp of sorts.  Time travel is very dis-orienting and not just every one can handle it.  This happened in 2012 when he was in his eighties.  He had no family and was pretty much of a drifter in Seattle. As he had nothing to lose except no one caring about him, he volunteered. Mr Key took me to this Island in the strangest Craft you can imagine.  It literally was a flying machine that was shaped like a helicopter.  It could become invisible and penetrate solid material like the Rocky Mountains or the mantle of the Earth.  It could fly at the speed of light. He had all sorts of gizmos on the ship.  One night he took me for a cruise and I swear, it made me doubt my sanity just like you are beginning to doubt mine. He put it in the invisible mode and we flew slowly over Los Angeles at night.  He showed me a device that could pick up emotional eminations from the populace below.  He explained it regestered the mean average of a certain area and not personal, one person signals.  He demonstrated this by flying over The beach cities and it showed a light blue on the screen....a state of non agitaion bent upon happiness and serenity. Then he flew over South L.A. and the screen went bright red...turmoil..gang warfare stuff.  He spent about two months on that Island and it was like the Garden of Eden.  There was coastline all around the island and he walked around the whole island in one day.  There was a very spiny looking ridge of strange rock that bisected the island and the cliffs rose at about a 45 degree angle from the base.  He guessed  the top was about a thousand feet higher than the base.  He spoke of a sealed entrance to a cave that was somewhere on the rocky spine, but he would not tell me where and he said there were spirit beings locked up inside for some reason...He said they were the spirits of the first inhabitants of the island and were killed by an invading horde from some other island...I asked if he thought they were friendly or evil....He said he did not know, but they were a gentle people until they were killed.  Their bodies numbering in the hundreds were thrown into a hole at the top of the ridge and they fell into some kind of chasm. A great earthquake centuries ago sealed the top hole, but another entrance was found down from the top of the ridge....The invading horde wanted the island for themselves and tried to set up a small civilization, but something caused them to die by the hundreds and evidently they discovered the second hole....and from what records they left..something very frightening came out of that hole ....they sealed it with a great stone and they fled in droves back to their original home.  A very special little cabin with a stone fireplace had been built for him and it was rough, but charming.  Basically it was a survival type of thing.  Catching rain water,  speering fish, eating the fruits off of very strange trees. He swam in the warm Ocean water, sun bathed, hiked, and I swear, He felt 50 yrs younger, he said.  It was an experience of being alone....nothing to talk to except himself.  The last time I saw Bob Key was when I received my degree from College.  He just disappeared.  For thiry years or more, I have wondered about the house he stayed in across and up five houses from me. When we get back from this trip, lets drive down to Glendale and I will show you his house and also where I grew up"  She was silent for a moment and said  "Bob, for some reason, I believe all of this...I will have to throw away all my knowledge of natural law....but...I choose to believe, and perhaps I will really believe if you can get in contact with Mr. Key, somehow. and see for myself..  I don't think I will sleep tonight. "   (continued) 

NEXT DAY

Both of us knew it was the next day.  The Sun rose like a huge copper disk....we could tell it was going to be a hot day.  Unknown to each other, both of us wanted to stay here for awhile. Both of us were dying for a refreshing shower with soap.  Neither of us could see any water.  Both of us were hungry and there was ham, eggs, bread, fruit, and coffee in the truck.  Neither of us could decide what to do first.  I decided on breakfast and hot coffee.  Both of us agreed.  Both of us worked on our project and both of us enjoyed a grand breakfast.  As we were finishing our cup of coffee, I mentioned that this was Monsoon season here with almost daily cloudbursts here and there.  We worried about the dry wash at our front door and we knew how walls of water could come through with no notice other than a wall of water moving fast.  Blythe had a thought.  "maybe this only looks like a wash and ends just a little way up.  There were no flash flood warning signs on the road and there was no bridge over the low place in the road."   "That's right" I said.  We put on our grubbies and high topped boots and began the walk up the sandy wash.  I found a good stick and got my knife out of it's scabbered.  The branch had a fork in it and I cut off the two branching twigs.  "The handle was about six feet long and each prong on the end was about three inches each.  "This if for rattlers"  I said.  Then, we got to talking about rattlesnake boots and purses.  Blythe mentioned that rattlesnake anything was very expensive and we played with the idea of becoming purveyors of fine rattle snake purses and boots.  We went about a mile or so and the wash made a sharp bend....and there it was...a low water dam.  Both of said  "I wonder".  When we reached the dam, oh, yes, oh yes...a fairly large pond with a few cows drinking water from the shore.  "No doubt, this is Indian Land and those are their cows."  I said.  Blythe said:  "Let's get naked...did you bring any soap?"  "NO"    She had to have soap, so I told her to sit in the shade of an Octillo and I would RUN back to the truck and get the soap...to which she agreed...."And bring the canteen so we can have water"    When I returned, Blythe bore the bad news:  she had stripped naked and splashed and swam in the pond and had spread her Levis on a bush.  A cow had ambled over to her pants and sniffed and then went back to the herd.  In the process, the cow had hooked his horns onto her pants and had dragged them off.  Actually, I didn't mind as I admired her sitting there on a rock with only her bikini panties clinging to her skin.  I got naked and we bathed and washed and frolicked quite a long time.  I swam out a ways from shore and dived down to see how deep it was.  It was at least fifteen feet deep towards the center of the pond and the water down there was cold.  I also noticed some good sized fish swim around me.  I yelled to Blythe.."Hey, swim out here, it is pretty deep and the water is cold."  Blythe was a good swimmer and showed off her back stroke.  We swam around a little more and went back to shore.   Blythe said"Honey Baby, I love you so much...would you mind getting dressed and try to find my Levis?"   OK!  I dressed, looked at where the cows were and walked a straight line towards them.  I found her pants.  They must have driven the cow crazy and he shook them off.  Blythe smothered me with kisses and thanked me so much.  The Sun was getting high and we could see the thunderheads beginning to boil and I got excited..."For being arid country, it can rain so hard here you can't see across the street for about ten minutes, then its all over."  We made it back to the cave and combed our hair. and sat down in our chairs.  I turned on my battery powered portable radio and could not understand a word...the speaker was speaking in Hopi...I think.  The sky got dark quite suddenly and the sharp cracks of close lighting was quite exciting as they seldom had this in Sacramento.  And then it came...a grey curtain moved towards us and when it hit..it just poured.  Even though we had bathed, we stripped off again and went out and got the coldest and most drenching shower we ever had.  Even with the dam upstream, the wash did run with a surprising amount of water.  Within thirty minutes, it was all over and the Sun came out and a beautiful rainbow stretched out across the mesas and all the stories of the ancients who lived here.  Yes, we agreed we needed to stay a few days and see what was really out there.....We decided to run into Winslow and buy a few things we forgot.....That night, we talked around our fire, wondered at all of the lives who might have lived here..their stories etched in canyon stone walls....the tour guide comes with his vacationers and explains their lives away....they take their pictures...and go on their way...next tour begins at 2:30 the sign says.....if the World goes on and on and some soul finds his way into our secret cove....he will never know what happened here.  The rocks stand a silent vigil over what time has wrought......We agreed to leave in the Morning to go on to to other places and things.............

OUR NIGHT IN THE CAVE NORTHEAST ARIZONA

What ever...."influence" sent my horror dream last night, is more than making up for it tonight.   We had a delightful meal of T-Bones, baked potatoes, and corn on the cob.  The wine was sooo smooth.....and now we relax in our chairs just staring into the fire.  Neither of us wanted this night to end.  The reddish walls of the cave are dancing with shadows and it is all so hypnotic.  It is like we had the only light in the Universe except for the twinkling carpet of stars above.  We were enjoying that nice relaxing haze that a good wine brings...a masking out of every worthless thought and allowing the deeply mysterious comforts to come out of the shadows and whisper in our minds.....I said:  "Blythe, there is a world of just about everything out there.  They all are vying for our attentions for evil reasons.  The evil is that listening to these hawkers of thought is a robbery attempt to hide the deep things that are so simple while being complex...feelings that no language can express....a solicitation to wonder at things that no one wonders at..like right now..I am wondering if we are the first people in the history of the World to eat T-Bone steaks here.  I wonder if any one has ever camped here ...ever. There is no indication that anyone has ever been here.. I am sure they have.  But, maybe they haven't.  Here we are, a short distance from people screaming down the highway looking for a vacation at some noisy amusement place, and here we are enjoying the wonder of silence and solitude.  It's almost funny if it were not so sad.  She thought a moment and said: "My Dearest Bob..that is so pregnant with thought.   I am really into firsts, and you have a collection of CD's in the truck and a great sound system....let's play some Oldies and let these ancient walls and spirits hear our music from long ago."  I jumped at the idea.  I put on a selection from the 50's and turned it up.  "Oh yeah..The Five Satins...1955...."IN THE STILL OF THE NIGHT....I HELD YOU..HELD YOU TIGHT...CAUSE I LOVE YOU...LOVE YOU SO...PROMISES I'LL NEVER LET YOU GO...IN THE STILL OF THE NIGHT.......I REMEMBER THAT NIGHT IN MAY....THE STARS WERE BRIGHT ABOVE....I'LL HOPE AND I;LL PRAY....TO KEEP YOUR PRECIOUS LOVE.....IN THE STILL OF THE NIGHT....SHO-DO-AND SHOBEE..SHO-DO-AND SHOBEE.................................Some things should definately be done in certain places,,but finding them is a kiss from lady luck.  We danced all night to the same song...our bare feet stirring the soft sand...perception of time was not there.. Cupid ..she came down and put us together....we became one flesh and moaned the pleasure out of us...torrents....thunder....quiet sleep...and..then we woke up staring at each other and wondering....wondering at wonder...and laughing at how sticky we were....

THE WORLD THAT THEN WAS

We decided to take my Four Wheeler instead of her Pontiac.  I asked her to not take any recorders for my stories as that was what ruined it before.  "Blythe, this is not for sale to Hollywood.....why would they or anyone be interested in my story when they have their own?"   "You sound bitter" she said.  "I am realistic"  I said."...We filled the truck up and went South on 99 to Barstow where we picked up I 44.  "This is the route old 66 we took....my Parents and I drove from Glendale to Tulsa almost every Summer from 45 to about 1957.  I made several trips of my own back to see Grandma B and Aunt Mimi....one time in '58 I went on my motorcycle.  ..My   Dad was transferred to L.A. in 44 and that is how I got to California.  I was a little boy by degrees when we took those trips in the Summer....every thing was magic..and even then, I was developing the ability to sense things not seen, but felt.  There was a mysterious foreboding that came from the land from about Flagstaff on East to the New Mexico border.  I think part of it was the little white crosses that were put besides the road to mark fatalities from accidents...sometimes there would be five crosses all together...a family..on vacation...I remember wondering if they had a good breakfast in order to get the day off to a wonderful start....maybe they thought..."What a wonderful trip this is" before they were crowned with death."  "Oh Bob,  that is sick..please don't think that way"   'I'm sorry, sometimes I get angry at something out there...I get cynical....I know one thing, I am angry because God allowed me to dream you died...I have never felt such sorrow in waking life...That dream has put a cloud over my day..today..I hope it goes away."  She said that maybe she help it go away tonight!  I was pushing the speed limit once we got on I 44.  I had my radar detector on.  I like the transition from desert to mountainous beginng around Ashfork.  Blythe did not know that I packed the tent we stayed in when I met her at our first encounter.  In fact, I brought utensils, the works, even the ice chest filled with T-Bone steaks, charcoal, ....wine.  My travel van was a four wheel drive and a high suspension so we could go off road. Huge ass kicking tires..Four Hundred Horses under the hood..... Yes, I brought a camaflauge tarp to throw over the red truck.  I haven't bounced this off of her yet, but I wanted to pull off the road a ways after we were East of Flagstaff.  I asked her if she was horny and she said she never wanted to do it again and then pinched me.  What I really had in mind was getting as close as I could remember to the spot where I, as a fourteen year old traveled with my Dad's friends who were going East.  They were going to drop me off in Tulsa.  That was in 1953 and this was 1984.  Anywhere close would do.  It was getting dusk and the summer clouds were dying along with the thermals.  I saw a sandy wash between two upraised hill like lines going off at right angle to the road.  I pulled over and stopped...I looked for scout planes and there were none..break in the traffic...go for it.  I put it in low low gear and four wheel drive and we plowed into the wash and chewed our way to about a quarter of a mile off the road.  I loved the sound of the throaty four barrel carbs and the geysers of sand flying up behind.    The wash turned left and we passed an over hang of rock and there was a dished out opening that the flash floods had dug out over the centuries.  It was actually an open cave and on a turn where the wash water ploughed into the rock and eroded it out. It  was high enough that I drove the four wheeler into it and it was completely hidden.  Blythe said the ride through the sand was fun but why were we stopping here.  I ASKED her if we could stay here tonight as I had brought every thing we used on our first date camp.  She answered not a word, but got out and walked around inside the cave and kicked her shoes off and walked around in the soft sand.  She came back and said it was lovely....better than our first camp...and called me a Romeo in the Rough.  "Look, driftwood and all...soft sand,,,sheltered...how absolutely amazing...".We quickly gathered drift wood and started a fire.  It was almost dark and the light cast shadows from the wall's out croppings..one looked like an Indian poking his head out of the rock.  I had brought folding chairs which also beat our log we used before...."Absolutely Amazing...." (defintely to be continued...I was still alive and so was my life source)

DEFIANT REQUIEM

I awakened and Blythe was already awake....I rolled over on my side and sobbed....."What is the matter, honey?"   "I had the most horrible dream"  "About what...did you become a golfer?"   "No, I dreamed we got old and you died.....I did not get one card of condolance...no one to go to..."   She patted me and said  "It could have been worse, you could have been a golfer"  "Blythe, lets quit trying to figure out what we want to do...we need to get out of here ....can we go on a trip back to Oklahoma together....you asked me to tell you my story..it would be easier for me if I tell it while I am there...Blythe, please..."   She loved the idea and we started packing that very day...

CELEBRATION TIME

Both of us wanted to conclude the project ASAP.  This was like the man who beat himself in the head with a hammer because it felt so good when he quit. Within the last two days, we finished the case and here is how:  Neither of us could find any court records of a marriage between X and her man. As the man came home unexpectedly late at night and found a car in his driveway, he had no need for us anymore.  Blythe did send a letter to the man and it went like this:  Dear Mr. xxxx     Thank you for choosing Blythe Private  Investigations.  Please find enclosed the pics of three cars parked in your drive when you were away.  You can see the tag numbers and from those, we got the names of the owners.  They were all women.  We checked out these women and all of them are lesbians, so you have no reason to worry.  You owe us nothing for my services as I will be paid by the Sacremento Bee for writing about what it is like to be a P.I.  The story will center around the case you provided for us..Please feel free to contact me again for any other concerns....Sincerely, Blythe.   NOW!  The celebration on our Veranda...a glass of wine,,,,,the sound of rustling nets,,,soft colors...and Blythe began to sing...I never knew she could sing like that..so impromptu...so, so beautiful;  she sang before me,  looking deeply into my eyes:   There's a place for us.....somewhere a place for us....peace and quiet and open air....wait for us....somewhere.....There's a place for us...a time and place for us....hold my hand and we're halfway there..hold my hand and I'll take you there......Some how.....Some way....Some where........

INTERVIEW WITH CLIFF DARBY PART 2

Blythe and I awakened with the after glow of a great loving episode which was over due.  I asked her if she remembered to take her birth control pill and she had.  We spent some time just talking in bed and we talked about having a baby.  "It would be such a good looking child....blonde with blue eyes" she said.  I said it was too late in our lives to start a family and how tied down we would be.  I also said that the times were too adverse for children and how you can get hurt either through disappointment as to how they turned out or the grief if there was sickness and even death.  She agreed to all of what I said. I changed the subject to our lives.  "It is so strange, here we are well off, not old yet, both successful in our careers and yet we seem so lost..not knowing how to spend our lives....I am tired of what I do and you surprised me by saying you were going to leave the Bee.   This stint of private investigation is stimulating, but I already know I would not want to do it forever...too dangerous and requires devious antics on our part...how do you feel about it?"   "Bob, I just don't know...I have a feeling it would grow old pretty quick  Let's just finish this one and then just coast awhile; I will wait on resigning...I think your saying that you were tired of psycho-analysis is very valid and understandible.....I know you are restless..just be patient.  We only have to live one day at a time."  She looked at the clock and said we had better get up and start for Davis as our meeting with Mr Darby was only hours away. We showered and dressed, had coffee and a roll and we were on our way to Davis.  Blythe started laughing and when asked why, she said she was thinking about my take off on Golfers....."You really don't hate golfers, do you."  " No, I don't hate golfers, I just get so irritated about the worshipful attitudes towards them and the course itself. There seems to be an adoration of Ray's Creek at Agusta.......I wonder if Ray was ever up shit creek...They name everything...Eisenhower tree, Amen corner....They should name the main restroom  The Golden Bear Dump..And how the players say they holed out on such and such hole...Didn't the ball go in?  Why did they hole out?...In interviews they say they did this and that on the golf course...I thought it was a landing field..... I even hate the sound of a ball dropping into a cup."   "Well, it was very entertaining to say the least."  she replied.  We arrived at the University on time and went to the administration office and explained who we were and why we were there.  We were given visitors badges and taken to Cliff Darby's lab where he was working.  He warmly greeted us and asked us to come with him to his office down the hall. He had alloted one hour for us.  As I had briefed the Dean of the school of engineering, there was no need to go over the same with Cliff, he had been briefed by the Dean. Blythe admitted to Cliff that her assignment was about a tempest in a pot of tea, but it would find its way into the paper and would, no doubt, draw alot of interest. Cliff said he understood and would tell all he knew about X.  "I met X a few years ago through a dating service.  Our first contact was when she called me.  I was coming off of a divorce and honestly, I think I was in a great turmoil....grabbing at straws, if you will. X and I agreed to meet at a certain restaurant at a certain time...she would be wearing a blue top and I would be wearing a short sleeve maroon sweater.  I went on inside and put our reservations in and sat in the room right inside the door.  When X came in, my very first impression was that this lady looked a little rough in the face..sort of hard...a few miles on her odometer....She was very easy to talk to..intelligent..a great figure..very small waist..We actually had a good time and agreed we would meet again...then, she said there was no need to part company and she invited me to her home.  It was a middle class home, very dark inside, though..even with the lights on.  We sat down in her living room and she asked if I would like a drink.  I accepted and we had a glass of white Zin.  The first impressions of both her home and her were  ....there was a dark and heavy spirit here..sort of a moaning..She poured us another glass and began to talk of her childhood.  She had three brothers and one sister and they lived in Missouri near Kansas City.  They lived on a lake.  Her Father was an alcoholic and used to beat the kids with a stick he kept in the house.  He also beat his wife.  I never could find a legitimate reason she divorced her husband.  The closest I could come was that he was insensitive to her preferences..she went on and on about he forgot to turn the porchlight on when she came home late from work...I went with her for about one year and we had sex together.  One time she wanted me to lie on my back and she sat on me..facing me.  We did it that way a number of times and every time, she went into a frenzy of movements and ended up by falling on me and weeping deeply.  I never could figure that one out."   I interrupted him and said that what he had told me so far explained the weeping and frantic gyrations...She was obviously trying to find the love she never had as a child...In a way, Cliff, you became vicariously her Father....Cliff pretty well covered the water front as far as X was concerned.    X had flash backs to horrible events in her childhood..she was sexually reckless...looking..looking all the time..never finding...obviously very mentally ill...Our hour was up, and we thanked Cliff for his generosity and left.   On the way home, Blythe said she was glad to be out of there and felt like she had taken a trip through hell.  I said that I had trouble remembering why we were doing all of this and she said..."Tragedy and darkness of soul sells".....We both came to agreement....never again.  (to be continued)

VERANDA.TIME

Somtimes, we just sit down and remain silent and sip our wine of the evening...tonight, it is a very good Cabernet Sauvignon.  We are kindred spirits in that we know how each feels without being told.  That is a wonderful extra in a marriage.  To illustrate, I suddenly said "Me too"...She knew what I meant and said nothing verbally.    Blythe set her wine glass down and stretched her legs out and rested her feet on an ottoman.  "Bob, I am so blessed to be your wife...I can tell you anything and you understand somehow....we have had occasions where we miffed each other, and yet, we felt hurt for only a second....foregiveness and understanding are so precious....Bob, I have lived here all of my life, first as a child, then as a teen going to school after school....I can still see Mom out there in the garden...I can still see Daddy tinkering with his Pontiac and mumbling to himself.. I can see us all around the Christmas Tree....it was so special.  Bob, this house is not really me....I have kept this because of the memories it gives back to me....Only since I have met you, have I realized for the first time that I am me...that I need to be true to me...and you....I don't think this house is you either....Life has been such a whirlwind lately..so much to think and wonder about....I am tired of busy....I now am thinking about resigning my position with the Bee and doing........"    She did not finish her thought.  Maybe she was tired of doing and wanted being.  I continued on with her thought as it was mine as well.   "Yes, I am there too...flying in all directions....I decided to open a new practice because it was the only trade I knew....neither of us has to work...but I fear a life that does not include work..an occupation.  It is not me to try retirement...I can't imagine retirement where all you do is travel, indulge fantisies that are dead inside....golf..I hate the game...all the hoopla about knocking a little white ball into a hole...all the hoopla about these pre-madonnas who wipe their ass with Rose Petals...commentators blabbing, ..cameras focusing in on a long take of the pro as he stands there after a drive...great view of the angle of his crack...his twisted leg.(reminds me of a manequin designed by Twisted Sister)....the intense stare on his face..hearing the fans yell the most imaginative comments like get in the hole. News is out that Davididerm Lovvett the third...get that..the third....I hope they stop soon as it would do wonders for the gene pool  ..well,  he has a new coach and has been told to angle his crack to about 45 degrees and do a pelvic thrust in the middle of his down swing....this will give more meaning to "Get in the Hole...Anyway"  This would allow the commentators to say  "Yes,  the angle of his crack in  juxtaposition to his back gives him more smack.  The foreward momentum of his balls extends where it falls ...the ball I mean when it lands on the green.    I am waiting to see what Liston Titt from Germany who is ranked 1,013 in World ranking, will name a new golf ball he is bringing on stream.  He wants to go head to head with Titleist.  Can you imagine....its the Masters and the camera pans those blessed souls who wear a cap with  Titleist"  on it...How honored can one be?  And then a new man steps to the tee and his cap says ..TITT LIST...I would play golf if I could wear a cap like that."      Blythe was doubled over with laughing.  I continued on, "I am one confused man...I opened this new practice and now I don't give a damn about it.  For years I have heard people pour out their problems and I have had to say just the right things to try and change their view on things.  I hate it, Blythe.  Then I went silent and Blythe began again:  "Bob, I have had the strangest emotions and perceptions during times of sickness..maybe the flu when I had a high fever..sometimes at night, I got up and just stared outside..the World asleep..maybe a stray cat ran somewhere..but it was the solitude...that resonated with how I felt...it was comforting and assuring. We arose and hugged..bonding, and for some reason, we headed for the bed.  (to be continued) 

OCTOPUSSY !

You wonder at my title.   For one, my life has exploded in many directions.  For example, I happened to remember that I had opened a new practice and had advertised it.  I then realized I had not been to my office for a week and had not checked my phone messages.  It became clear that I had bitten off far more than I could chew.  Blythe's new assignment had so enveloped us that it seemed nothing else mattered.  I needed to make a decision on my place in San Francisco.  I really believed that Blythe would resign the Bee and open her own Private Investigation Business..she loved this new work so.  So, at least eight irons in the fire..plus a wife who needed lots of attention.  Thus, Octopussy....She is getting into her comfies and soon we will enter into our libation laced discussion of...who knows.....like I said..Octopussy !  (Definately to be continued..stay tuned)

OUR INTERVIEW WITH CLIFF DARBY

With the information we had, it was no trouble to find Cliff Darby..living in Davis, California and working for the University of California at Davis.  He was the director of their Fluid Properties Lab.  Blythe and I had a long discussion about how to approach Cliff as he was obviously a gold mine of information.  We agreed that we had to find some way to observe him and assess his personality in order to determine what approach we should use  for him to trust us and become  "Oh, so sympathetic"...Blythe decided to contact the Dean of Engineering and explain that she  was a writer for the Sacramento Bee and would like to do  story on the Fluid Properties Lab.  She turned on her female and convincing tonal qualites.  Lady Luck was on our side as Dean Frizzelle said he had read her column many times and especially enjoyed the one on..."How to Find Serenity"...He wanted to know when we could come and tour the facility and meet its director, Cliff Darby  She asked when it would be most conducive for a visit and he asked if we could be there by ten tomorrow morning.  We agreed and then went home for the best part of the day....the veranda and wine time

TWO WEEKS INTO OUR INVESTIGATION

Alot has transpired in the last two weeks.  I will refer to our subject as X. Her husband went on the road ten days ago and we began our watch on her house.  We parked up the street about three houses so we could get a good view.  As the Bee newspaper was really interested in a juicy story, they financed our needs like making a fleet of cars available for our nightly use.  They gave Blythe time off from her regular job as we were busy most nights and needed sleep. The same car parked night after night is a no no.  Jobs like this are very boring until they can get hair raising.  The last two nights, a car parked in her drive and spent the nights there.  We got the tag number and it was a personalized plate  "LIKETOFLY"   We figured the guy was a pilot and as he was driving an expensive sports car, we figured he had money.  We got his name through the tag agency and then located his address.  We went to the court house to see if any records of any kind could be found.  We found records of a fairly recent divorce including the settlement.  He was the heir of his families wealth which amounted to about 800,000 dollars.  He used to live in a trailor court, but now lived in a very nice upper class home.  There were no children, and the size of his new home was far above what he needed. His wife got a few items from their home, but zilch from the estate. We guessed he had gone somewhat unrealistic and wanted to experience a  big, nice house.  He was quite abit older than X and she had a body to die for.  It all hung together.  We did a drive by on his big home one night and found X's car parked in his garage....the garage door was open.  We also found out that X had a fairly lengthy history of seeing a psychiatrist for depression and paranoia.   Under the guise of visitation from a certain church, we knocked on X's neighbor's doors and found a way to get them to talk about X.  The procedure we used was very subtle and lengthy, so I will not include detail .  I was simply amazed at how much info you can get if you want it bad enough and are clever enough.  There was some hint in what we found that suggested X was suicidal as she had put her checking account in both her and her brother's names.  X's neighbor next door was the most productive.  Both were in their sixties, retired, and enjoying life.  He loved jazz and played big band music over his speakers on his patio.  He also enjoyed his booze, but seemed responsible.  I made the pitch that "our church" had a group for people with problems...troubled.   "We have a big divorce counselling group and also people with addictions."  He asked if we had visited the lady next door yet and we said no.  He began a story about  X.  "My  next door neighbor might be a real candidate for you and your groups.  Her husband is gone alot and when he is, we see cars parked in her driveway and they stay all night..I mean one car at a time.  She went with some guy for about a year and she seemed to settle down, but they broke up and she began to act very strangely.  I am amazed her husband doesn't know about all this or doesn't seem to care.  He probably has his women while he is on the road....Sometimes he is gone for a month at a time...He is at least twenty years her senior...my wife and I doubt they are even married.   She is an alcolohic and sometimes she gets drunk and comes over here to blow off.  She is a divorcee and has joint custody of her two children.  Her ex brings them over for one week and then picks them up for his week with them.  She works for some National auto rental concern and evidently makes decent money, plus her award from the divorce.  During her going with Cliff for a year, she seemed a different person..for the better..but when he broke off with her, she really exhibited some bizarre behaviour.  She freuently asked  if we had seen Cliff or his car in the neighborhood.  She told us she found some unspent bullets in her back yard.  That was before she met the current man who lives with her.  She has only been with him for about a year.  I actually doubt they are married.  I jumped in and asked if he knew Cliff's last name.  He said  it was Darby..."When he was with her, he too, spent weekends with her ..then, he was gone for a week..I think he lived in another town and worked for some laboritory...he seemed like such a nice man and we wondered what he saw in her....he also was older, but not much.  We visited some over the fence.  Blythe asked "Did he ever mention where he worked?"   "He did, but I can't recall what he said..it was a University..a school..I think"  Blythe asked "Could it be that he said Davis?"    "Yes..that is it, Davis..that is what he said".   Blythe and I had enough to work on and we thanked him for his time.  The man then asked:  "What did you say was the name of your church?"   Oh...no..Blythe and I had failed to find a church that we claimed to go to."  Major screw up.  Blythe jumped in and said..."We will send you literature on our church and all of its programs"   He seemed satisfied with that.  Now, we had yet another assignment...find a church with all of those programs.  On the way home, I reminded Blythe we had not made love in over a week.  She answered...."I knew something was missing...."   (to be continued)

HELLO POLAND

You are my first reader from Poland...I love Polski Wyrob pickles !  pass along my site for your friends to enjoy.  bobfishback.blogspot.com/

OUR FIRST PRACTICE AT TAILING SOMEONE

Blythe had been given a picture of the woman under investigation. She had her address and a picture..also, her phone number.  I suggested we take a drive by and assess the situation.  It was now dark and she agreed to do a drive by.  On the way, she said that it was chancy, but that sometimes we might go onto the property, and if caught, our explanation would be that our dog jumped out of the car and ran in the direction of the house. We turned onto El Paso and drove by the house.  Blythe had been given the schedule of when the husband would be on the road and today was not one of them. There were dim lights coming through the front windows with nice bushes in front of the windows.  She asked me if I was comfortible in becoming a peeping Tom.  I said that I sure was not. There was a red Mustang in the drive and we got its tag number. Blythe said that they had a big dog.  I suggested that we pick a bar near the house and she said " Why not?"   We chose the Elephant Run as it looked busy even though it was only eight pm.  We parked as close to the drive entrance as we could. This bar was attatched to and part of a large multi-story Motel.  We parked and opened the front door.  The Hotel desk was in the main entrance and there was a door off the side that went to the bar.  The band was setting up for a night of noise.  It was fairly crowded.  We chose a small table towards the front and good view of the stage.  The band was named the Rag Tags and the guys looked the part; there was one female with long Blonde hair and she was the lead guitar as she kepts adjusting her massive amp  with alot of lights.  She hit a few licks and it was obvious this gal was good with her axe...Axe being a slang term for guitar.  We ordered two beers as we did not want alcohol to dim our judgements...Blythe suggested we just drive around until it was really going as "People talk louder and are more wreckless with what they say when they are stoned"   I said we might not get a seat and I wanted to see this girl play her guitar.  In fact, I told her I was very nervous about all of this and I wished she would drive on this first venture.  She looked at me and said "And you fly that plane....wow"  We got to visiting with others at nearby tables and learned that the gal guitarist was phenominal at her guitar work. We could tell the hour were getting ripe..very noisy...the band was ascending the stage...the place was packed..standing room only.  The bar and the servers were busy..running drinks to every table..the bar itself was wall to wall people.  The lead singer welcomed every one and asked "ARE YOU READY TO ROCK?"  A huge cheer and people started to come to the dance floor to get close to the band.  With just a few chords and drum beats, people were dancing and rocking.  No doubt, this band had them in the palm of their hands...Blythe and I ordered drinks (not beer)  I thought I heard her say "Screw the driving"  but I can't swear to that.  After several numbers, Blythe elbowed me and said "See that lady in red" she pointed and I saw her. Blythe pulled out the picture she had been given and said  "What do ya think?"  I looked long and hard at both pic and the lady..."Well, they look alike, at least"   Blythe pointed at a small mole on the lady's right cheek (picture)...We could not see the mole from our distance and the dim light.  I said "If you play the odds, that isn't her..nobody is that lucky"  I suggested that we watch for her to get up and make a pee run and then she could follow her in and get a good look"  Blythe agreed.  It took another hour and it was "pee time"   She got up and Blythe got up and followed after.  She came back almost pale.."That is her!"  "What on Earth do we do now?"  I asked.  Blythe said "They like to dance allot, they have been on the floor for every song almost...let's go up and dance with them and after its over, let's compliment them and try to draw them into conversation."   Good idea in a way...the Band played a rendition of Travelin' Band by CCR and we felt like fools.  Much too frantic.  As it turned out, our couple approached us and they said how good we were for mature people, then the lady introduced us to her........husband!   I was glad the man did not say "This is the private investigator  I have hired to see what you do when I am on the road !!"   Oh well, it was alot of fun.   (to be continued)

BLYTHE BECOMES A PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR

Blythe came home from work and she was bubbling.  "Guess whar?   I have a really different assignment...I have been told to write on Private Investigators and their ways of solving unfaithful spouse suspicions and also phony injury reports in order to get benefits.  I am to get a California P.I. license through taking a short course at P.I. School.  I laughed from this new turn and became excited myself as I had always thought it would be interesting to be a P.I.  "I could go with you on your missions"  I said, and she welcomed the idea.  After she finished her night school course, she then had to get a gun permit.  She went to a gun school and she had to buy at least a 357 Magnum.  She passed with flying colors and then ran an ad in the Bee...."UNFAITHFUL SPOUSE?  CALL BLYTHE.....BOGUS INJURY CLAIMS? CALL BLYTHE...and then her work phone number.  The ad was huge and the Bee ran it free gratis.  It took only one day for a fish to bight.  A truck driver wanted to know what his wife did while he was on the road.  She met with him and he gave all the info she needed.  The house was in a middle class dead end street...El Paso street in a suburb of Sacramento.  She was loaned another car as her 48 Pontiac drew alot of attention. The car was fitted with some switches so she could turn either of the headlights off.   "When you are tailing another car and if that driver suspects he is being followed, his eyes are constantly in the rear view mirror.  If he suspects he is being followed, he will make lots of turns..side streets and parking lots.  It might be ok to follow him on one turn off, but after that, keep your distance and park across the street if possible and keep your eye out.  Also, I can turn off one headlight to make him think it is another car.  I have some cellophane patches I can stick to his tail lights that gives them a purple glow and makes them easy to tail at night."  Then she brought out a car radio antenna; she pulled it out to full length and said it was good to stick under garage doors and sweep it to see if there is a car in the garage. She said she also had a Telephone Repairman's uniform and climbing spikes to climb power poles.  "One P.I. took a picture of a man digging a hole in his back yard when he was drawing pay because of an injured back."   Then, she brought out a pint of whiskey and told me if she was surveying a house and if a person came out of that house and headed for her car, she would douse herself with whisky and pretend to be passed out.  "P.I.'s have been caught snooping and some of them were beaten severly. Tonight, after it gets dark, I want to start training you myself, you won't need to go to school, but you will be savvy.  I want us to go to a bar and you pick someone or maybe a couple to watch....carry a pad and make notes of what they do.  Maybe we can sit next to them and from their conversation, see if you can draw any conclusions.  When they leave, we will leave  and we will follow them and see where they go.  And guess what?  You, my man, will be driving.  (to be continued)