1936 - 2016

By kiki

December 13, 2016, marks another milestone in my life journey; my 80^th birthday. I keep doing the math, hoping to see a lesser number, but that big 8.0. keeps coming up, so considering the alternative, I will fully embrace it. Below is a brief essay about those 80 years.

I was born at a very young age on a Sunday in 1936 at the Los Angeles County General Hospital, - My parents, Aurelio and Eulalia Baltazar, with my older sister Rachel, lived at the Simons Brickyard at the time (South Montebello). I was so young I don't remember much of those babyhood years. But it must have been fun just hangin' and chillin' around the house for the first 5 years of my journey. Around 1941, or was it 1942? Either way, at the beginning of WWII, I started kindergarten at a segregated school (Vail Elementary). Even though Vail was segregated, it was fun to attend, making the years seem months. 

Soon WWII was over, and so were the '40's. And as we entered the '50s, I too entered Montebello Junior High School (1950), And in 1952 I entered Montebello High School. My teen years at Montebello junior and high school were some of my more memorable years - In April of 1954, I met Connie, and on December 13 (my 18th birthday), we were married. Two years after we married, the kids started arriving, and with that, I started transitioning from a teenager to young adulthood. Soon, we were into the 1960s, and I began to see my young adulthood move to older adulthood. But somewhere in between, I got stalled in the process, and I was just kinda drifting, marking time without any great passion for moving forward. It could be that I liked where I was and wanted to stay longer. But time has a way of pushing you on, and in the '70s, with more kids than I could count, I found myself entering middle age. By the '80s and '90s, my youth was just a distant memory.

The '90s were over in a jiffy, and now with grandkids and two or three great-grandkids to go along with my graying hair, I entered, as a retired man, some would say a kept man, and I wouldn't argue with them, the new millennium. So, with the enjoyment of the grand and great-grandkids, the first decade of the new millennium went by fast, but the second decade is like a slow blur because some days I am here, and other days I am with my imaginary friends. In a geriatric stupor...And now, as I travel the last few miles of my life journey, I would like to thank my family and friends who have made my life memorable. Without their love and support, I wouldn't have made it to this ripe old age...Along the way to this ripe old age, I've loved, and I am sure, I was loved by some. I've won a few and lost a few, but in between, I lived life to the fullest. - It has been a long journey and a wonderful experience, and my friends, I've seen a lot, and I've done a lot as I traveled life's roads, yet, I can't say that I've seen and done it all. Life is too complicated to see, and do it all in one lifetime, no matter how long your life is.

Has life been good to me? I have to say yes. I have a loving family and have had 80 years of happiness, and who could ask for more? - Regrets? I have a few, but like the Frank Sinatra song says, "A few, but then again too few to mention" Okay, maybe I do have a minor regret, and it might be a selfish regret on my part: I don't recall ever having a birthday party. I would have loved to have had one, maybe at a very young age, with cake and ice cream, a pinata hanging from our apricot tree, a clown to make me laugh, and perhaps a magician to pull rabbits out of a hat, now that would have been nice. But please don't interpret this as feeling sorry for myself because, like I said, it's just a minor regret, and I am okay with that.

And so now that the sun is setting on me, I wish I am not judged too harshly when judgment day comes around.

On a side note: today is also our 62nd wedding anniversary and the 4th anniversary of my older sister Rachel's death...Happy Anniversary, Babe. And Rachel, R.I.P

Baseball Bats in Simons

By kiki

I don't know why, but I woke up in the middle of the night thinking about the baseball bats we used in our late 1940s summer baseball games...Baseballs and bats were sacred in Simons because nobody could afford them. 

So whenever our one and only bat would be used as firewood in somebody's wood-burning stove, we would improvise and replace it with a long two-by-four. Then, when that two-by-four would become ashes in somebody's stove, we would fall back on "desperate times calls for desperate measures" How you ask? First, we would walk to Vail Elementary School, where the playground was open for summer programs. If the equipment room was empty, one of the guys would walk in and grab a bat, and then we would all run like hell down the hill from the playground and disappear into our safety zone of El Hoyo Simons to start a game with our new bat. We never had a problem in El Hoyo:  we kids needed help finding a solution...And there was never a dull moment either. 

2016 Presidential Election

By kiki

The 2016 presidential circus is over, for now, anyway. Now let me say that I am extremely disappointed with the results. Not because my choice for president didn't win, but because of the man that won, and I don't say that because he says he is a conservative Republican (he is not a conservative) In  the past we have had conservative Republican presidents and we've done okay - My disappointment comes from seeing a pathological liar and racist who used inflammatory language to degrade his opponents to win the highest and most powerful office in the world - And we, as a country are better than that. And we have always, rightly or wrongly, expected our presidents that represent us on the world stage to be a few notches above us in the moral compass, someone we and our children can look up too as a good role model - and, to conduct themselves with class and dignity, not that they always have (see Bill Clinton and Richard Nixon) but none have risen from the gutter, to become our president as our next president has. Of course, he doesn't live in the gutter, but he acts and talks like he does - Trump has taken America to a dark place, a place that we had thought to have left behind us years ago - I asked, do you trust Trump, who by his own words, is a sexual predator, to be alone with your daughter? Do women feel safe around him? And is that the kind of a man we want representing America? Hard questions, I know, but they need to be asked.

Now let me say that I will always respect the office of the presidency, and I will accept that Trump won and will be the next U.S. president, but I will not respect or accept him as my president because of the way he has conducted himself with women and people of color, not to mention war heroes.  And with all the reasons he has given us the man is unsuited to be Commander in Chief - Let me end by saying that it is sad to see our country lower its self to the gutter. And that scares me, not so much for me as I am in the tail end of my life, but for my children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and great-great-grandchildren - Like most empires, our country will be brought down not by outside forces, but from within. Harsh words? Maybe, and, yes, I hope I am wrong.

I Am Far From What I Used To Be

By kiki

Yesterday, as I fast approach my 80th birthday I tried to reflect back on my life, and the best I could do was "I am far from what I used to be", but then. Beto, one of my imaginary friends whispered in my ear "dude, you still have your moments" I think I'll buy Beto menudo and a beer on Friday for been so kind to an old friend....Without friends like Beto, we would all be lost, lonely souls. 

Dime A Dance

By kiki

Earlier this morning, I watched an old movie (1951) shot in various parts of downtown Los Angeles. One scene takes part in front of Dream Land Taxi Dance Hall. Dream Land was a dime, a dance hall, where lonely men in need of companionship would pay a dime to dance one song with a young girl or some older woman...I remember one time around 1950 or '51 when some of my buddies and I rode our bikes from the Simons Brickyard to downtown and tried to sneak into Dream Land only to be thrown out on our asses for being too young, not that we had any money, but that didn't matter, we just wanted to dance...For me, those were the good old days!!

A Johnnie Flores story

By kiki

Johnnie Flores, late Los Angeles boxing manager, trainer, and WWII hero told me all kinds of stories back in the day. For example, he said to me as we were flying to Miami in 1977 was about a Mexican boxer who was sent to him in the early '60s to handle while the boxer was in Los Angeles to fight a local hero. When promoter Aileen Eaton called a press conference to promote the fight, Johnnie discovered that the fighter didn't have any decent clothing to appear in front of the press; Johnnie told me that the boxer needed to be dressed up, but how? First, he was not about to drop a couple of hundred bucks at a Robert Hall Clothier store for a suit, then he remembered his uncle Zeferino Ramirez. 

Mr. Ramirez was the owner of a Southern California chain of mortuaries. Johnnie said he called on his uncle and asked for a favor. After Johnnie explained the situation to Mr. Ramirez, the mortician said he would be happy to help him. Mr. Ramirez, whose dying male clients were mainly on the poor side, had closets at his mortuaries that were full of cheap, cheap, ill-fitted suits to sell to the families of the newly departed grandfathers, fathers, uncles, etc., etc. - Johnnie drove the fighter to the Zeferino Ramirez Mortuary which was located on Brooklyn Ave in East Los Angeles. He dressed the fighter in a white shirt, blue tie, and a black ill-fitted suit. Johnnie said that as they were leaving, Mr. Ramirez told them to be sure to bring the threads back as soon as the press conference was over as he had a client who was the same size as the fighter waiting on the slab to get dressed...I asked Johnnie how the Mexican fighter did in the fight, "he got KO'd in the first round," he answered.

El Rancho de Doñ Dañiel and Marrano Beach

By kiki

Okay, you oldies from Montebello, El Monte's Hicks Camp, Pico, Cantaranas, Los Nietos, Simons, Jimtown, Whittier, East L.A., etc, that were alive in the dark ages. How many of you remember El Rancho de Doñ Dañiel and Marrano Beach (Rio Hondo) on the northwest corner of San Gabriel and Rosemead Blvd, PRE-LEGG LAKE?

Before Legg Lake existed, the area around those two boulevards was like a jungle. On those long-ago summer weekend afternoons, Doñ Dañiel would come alive with tardeadas (sp). Doñ Dañiel would have live music, dancing, food, and beer, and who knows what else was happening in that deep jungle.

My maternal grandfather, Papa Tony, would ride his bicycle from Pico to Rancho Doñ Dañiel, and after an afternoon of dancing and drinking, he would ride his bike back feeling a bit tipsy. There were a few times when he would get stopped by the cops, and after seeing that grandpa was slightly inebriated, the cops would put his ride in the trunk and give him a ride home. Some of us might be old, but we have our memories to back us up!

Big fight at the Montebello Park

By kiki

At the beginning of the 1951-’52 Montebello Junior High School year, two new girls transferred to MJH (9th grade) from an ELA/Boyle Heights school…The girls were both beautiful. Soon Frankie Cruz, a guy from Simons, started hitting on one of the girls, and she didn’t fight back; in other words, she liked it. But there was a problem, she had a boyfriend from Varrio Nuevo (Estrada Courts, Boyle Heights), and the boyfriend was always there waiting for the girl to leave school. One day when Frankie and the girl walked out of the school together, the boyfriend approached them and had words with both of them…He told Frankie he would wait for him the following day at Montebello Park to settle things…Word spread around the school like a burning fire “big fight at the park” was the word being spread around the school. On the day of the fight, everybody asked, “are you going to the big fight after school in the park?” When the final school bell rang, everybody ran to the park for the big fight. The big fight was not such a “big fight,” as Frankie quickly beat the crap out of the boyfriend. And so it was! 

Fite Nite at Doyers Statium

By kiki

The original date for the fights at Dodgers Stadium was a week before the fights took place. A week before that ill-fated night, Connie and I were sitting ringside in a downpour of rain when in the 11th hour, a decision was made to postpone the fights. A week later, give or take a day, the fights were held, and we all know the outcome of that tragic night: Davey Moore lost his featherweight title to Sugar Ramos, but more importantly, he lost his life. 

Hank Weaver was killed in an auto accident on his way home from the fights; Hank was the ringside TV announcer for the Hollywood Legion Stadium fights in the early 1950s. He also had a short segment on TV before the fights, "Under The Pepper Trees With Hank Weaver," where he would interview fighters and fans as they entered the Stadium.

Would the outcome have been different for Moore and Weaver had the fights been held on the original date? We'll never know, will we?

Changes in our Beloved Ghetto

By kiki

We have been living in the 'hood (La Puente, same house) since 1968. I have seen some changes in our beloved ghetto in those 48 years: The first change was the white flight when the Raza started moving in droves, 3 or 4 families to a single-family home (okay, I am exaggerating a tiny bit here). Nowadays, advertisements in the local rags are primarily written in Spanish. Unfortunately, don't know what the graffiti is written in, as it's hard to read.

Now, the new change: the Chinese are migrating east from Monterey Park, and they are also moving north from Hacienda Heights to our ghetto, and the Raza is fleeing to new digs. Now, I expect to soon see the local rags advertise in Chinese. And, look out for the traffic jams on Hacienda Blvd because, like in Monterey Park and Hacienda Heights, traffic is beginning to move slowly on our roads.....Connie and I are not fleeing to new digs as we love our beloved ghetto. When we leave, it will be in a box. 

Old Man And The Coupons

By kiki

I stopped at CVS earlier this morning to pick up a few things. When I had what I wanted, I walked up to the line of people, about six deep, waiting for the one cashier on duty to help them. I queued behind an old man (yes, he was older than me). The gentleman, between 85 and 90 years old and standing about five feet tall, turned around and told me, "Be ready to wait a while," I asked him why. He said, "fucking coupons" At that, I looked up at the lady being helped, and sure enough, she had about twenty small items, and she had a coupon for every one of those items. I laughed and told the old man, "I don't mind, I'm in no hurry, and besides, I have nowhere to go and nobody to see" He shook his head and again said, "Okay, but when you are as old as me-time is of the essence" He then said in a kind of a loud voice "fucking coupons" - That old gent made my day as there is no better way to start the day than with a good laugh.

I am glad the good Lord blessed me with the ability to see humor where most people don't - I am so happy that I can laugh with other people but, most importantly, at myself too - And being able to see the brightness in life instead of the darkness has made my life a lot easier to live. And when the clock stops ticking for me, it can be said that I laughed at the little things in life and lived life to the fullest.

How the Boy's got their start in boxing

by kiki

Contrary to rumors,  I never told my boys they had to fight. I did inadvertently introduce them to boxing; I say “inadvertently” because it was never my intention to make fighters out of them, but here’s how it all started: In 1964 when I had my last amateur fight (Los Angeles Golden Gloves, I lost) I decided to keep going to the gym just to stay in shape. One Saturday morning, as I was getting ready to drive to the Teamsters Gym, Connie asked me to take Fernie and Anthony with me; she said she needed a drama-free morning. I did, and the boys enjoyed hitting the bags while I sparred with some of the young fighters….One Saturday morning, Louie Jauregui, who ran the gym, told me he would hold a smoker show the following Friday and bring the family. That Friday, I took Connie, our daughter Linda and the boys to the smoker, and Anthony, who was all of 3 ½ years old, said he wanted to fight; Frankie, who was 6 years old, said he too would fight. Louie, who was doing the matchmaking, matched Anthony with a kid about 4 years old and Frankie with another boy about the same age. Anthony won, and Frankie lost….They kept on boxing after that, winning numerous Junior Golden Gloves titles. When Frankie was 12 years old, he told me he wanted to rest from boxing, and I told him that was fine. He came back when he was 15 to fight in the Junior Golden Gloves (he won). It was the last year he was eligible because of the age limit. Between the age of 16 and 18, Frankie had no more than 10 fights. He turned pro days after turning 18.

When Anthony started junior high, I tried talking him into taking a rest; he would have none of it. He said he wanted to keep boxing, and he did, winning at the age of 15 the 1976 AAU National Junior Olympic Title. He also won Los Angeles Golden Gloves titles. Again, when Anthony got into high school, I asked him to take the 3 years off, saying no. Anthony, at a very young age, was literally knocking out opponents. At 16, after knocking out a top local amateur in the first round at the Olympic Auditorium during an am/pro card, finding any local amateurs willing to get in the ring with him became tough. After knocking out the top local amateur, he only fought one more time as an amateur. The year between 17 and 18, he didn’t fight because we couldn’t find opponents. He, too, turned pro a few days after his 18 birthday.

Linda’s 60th Birthday - Happy Birthday, Mija

Linda at 15

Connie and I want to wish our beautiful and one and only daughter a very happy 62nd birthday

Here we are in 2018 and it seems like it was just yesterday that Connie was a 15-year-old girl and pregnant with Linda.

Our daughter in law Veronika singing happy birthday to Linda on her 62nd birthday

It's really hard to believe that 62 years have gone by since Linda was born in 1956, but they have, and for the most part they have been happy years - and so we move on to hopefully some more happy years.

Happy Birthday, Mija, you have made us proud parents. We love you and wish nothing but the best for you and yours

“What, You Hitting On Me?”

By kiki

While having breakfast at Rafael's Mexican Restaurant in Montebello I notice an elderly gent (looked older than me) sitting with an equally elderly looking lady. The gentlemen looked familiar, like somebody I knew from another life, finally, curiosity got the best of me, I got up and walked up to their table hoping that my curiosity wouldn't kill me like it did the cat: "excuse me sir, but you look familiar" I said to the gentlemen, he looked at me and asked me "what, you trying to hit on me? Just kidding" he laughed as his wife gave him that look that only a wife can give - 'damn, I though, curiosity might not kill me, but this funny old dude might just kill me with laughter' - "but did you grew up In Simons?" he then asked me "yes, I did" I responded "so did I, I am from the Garcia family" said he. With my curiosity somewhat satisfied I thanked him, and not dying like the cat, or by laughter, I walked out laughing and thinking 'okay, but what Garcia family?' I was thinking that because there was more than one Garcia family living in the brickyard....Even though I have no idea what Garcia family the gentlemen belongs to, it was still great to meet someone from my other life....Thanks for making my day, Sir!

It's times like these that I can truly say that life has been great to me!!

GOP Hatefest

By kiki

I am sure going to be glad when the GOP hatefest in Cleveland is over. In the last 3 days, we have not heard one thing positive come out of the mouth of the speakers. Not one thing about how they would go about in fixing what they see wrong in the country. (They see a lot wrong, but offer no solutions, just hateful rhetoric about Hillary Clinton) One thing I do know about the GOP and the Clintons is that the GOP have never accepted the Clinton's. They have always seen the Clinton's as been "White Trash"…..The above is just my opinion, but that’s how I see things so far in the 2016 presidential election - I will be deeply disappointed if the Democrat's take the stage at their national convention in Philly and all they want to do is go tit for tat with hateful rhetoric with the GOP, they need to offer  solutions to the country's problems or they will be seen as been no better than the GOP.

What local bar that you frequent is best describe below?

By kiki

The bar was one of those low-life dives where time seemed to stand still. Cigarette smoke hung thick in the air, with the odor of spilled beer and dried piss adding to the unhealthy mix. The tables were worn and scarred. The vinyl upholstery on the chairs and barstools was torn and duct-taped together in spots.

The customers, primarily regulars propped on sagging stools that just as well have had their names written on them, were a dodgy-looking bunch of characters, as was the bartender, a woman with multiple tattoos, and the dubious handle of Lady.

Damn Yanks

By kiki

Funny how people post stuff on the internet without knowing or checking out their facts.

On a Facebook boxing page, somebody asked what boxers are or were native American Indian. Some guy, and from of all places, South Africa, named most of the Mexican-American fighters of the recent past, including my son Tony as being part Indian. He got pissed when I told him Tony was not Indian; he said to me that Tony's mother Connie was from a tribe in Utah; this was before he knew I was Tony's, old man. When I told him that I was Tony's dad, he told me I was rude and in his words: "you are a typical yank, everything is centered around you" Damn Yanks!!!... By the way, neither Connie nor I have ever been to Utah. I'm sure that I and maybe Connie have some kind of Mexican Indian blood in us, but neither of us is classified as "Indian or Native-American."

"Damn, Yanks"

On a Fast Slippy Slope to Geriatric-Land

By kiki

Within the recent past, I had come to realizes that I have been on a fast slippy slope to geriatric-land. And yesterday I got further evidence of it via the gas bill. The gas bill, you ask? Yes; the gas bill! Let me explain why the gas bill is further proof of why I'm on my way to la-la land (Connie say I been there all the time)….I pay all our bills online via our bank website and yesterday we got the gas bill, and I opened it to see what the damage was, and to my surprise, it read “no payment due. Your account has a credit balance of $1.37” ‘what the heck!’ I thought. So I read the fine print and I saw that I had paid last month's bill twice! (like if we have lots of money to be doing that) So my friends, don’t be surprised if my next post is written from Norwalk’s Metropolitan State Hospital.

Pamela Metrzger Dietrich

By Pamela Metzger Dietrich

Dearest family and friends... as I near the end of my 6-month journey with chemo and its ups and downs I want to thank all of you who prayed for me and my family Please keep them coming .May it be Your will, merciful and healing Father, to lead me on this journey in peace, to accompany me in peace, to stand by my side and to give me life, health, happiness, and peace. Give me the strength to bear this cancer with dignity, and the power to endure it and be healed. Protect me from pain, sadness and despair, and from all the discomforts that are drawing near. Send skill, wisdom, and understanding to my doctors and nurses, Your faithful messengers, to sow goodness and light in my body. Help the chemicals accurately do their work, rooting out disease and bringing compassion to the healthy parts of my body making room for the good to strengthen and take root.Wrap me in goodness so that I will be strong of body and spirit. To live a good, full life. Give me the strength to traverse this difficult period with joy and faith – with a closeness to You.

Help me stay mindful of my family and friends who are walking this road with me.Good evening . I love you all and I am blessed to have you all stand beside and support me. I don't know what the future will hold , but I do know this , I am going to have the time of my life when I get through this terrible thing called cancer!. xoxo.

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Prayers go out to my friend, Pamela Metzger  Dietrich - Sometimes we need to read something like this to remind us how fragile our health and lives can really be  - I pray that my dear friend with the help of chemo and prayers kicks Cancer's butt and that good health is bestowed upon her by our Lord.

Joe “All Night Long” Houston

By kiki

In 1954, when Connie and I were dating, we danced to Rhythm-&-Blues and Rock-&- Roll music at Betty's Barn in Irwindale, Ca. Betty's consistently had named artists and musical groups of that era playing live in their Saturday night dances. One such artist was Joe Houston, who played jazz, rhythm, and blues. Houston, who made his home in Los Angeles, was a tenor saxophonist born in Texas in 1926 and died in 2015. Houston's signature song was "All Night Long," Connie and I would swing to that tune every time he played it.

Betty's Barn was the place for teenagers and young adults to dance back in the early '50s, and Connie and I danced at Betty's many times. - But then life got in the way: we married in December of '54, and when the kids started arriving, we had to curtail our dancing dates. Soon after, I lost track of Joe Houston.

Fast forward to the mid-1980s

By the mid-'80s, we were living in La Puente (we still do). At that time, La Puente had many beer joints and a few "Nite Clubs" One of the clubs was on Valley Blvd and Orange Ave: The now-defunct Copper Digger. The Copper Digger, who sometimes had live shows, was more like a dive that wanted to masquerade as a nite club. Still, I would stop at the Digger now and then for a beer or bourbon and coke, and one time that I stopped there, they had flyers advertising a life show featuring Joe Houston. As I read the pamphlet, my first thought was, 'wow, Houston is still alive?' As I was drinking my beer, I thought, 'boy, Connie, I think I would love to see Houston again,' so I decided to buy two tickets to see Houston and relive those Betty's Barn days

A couple of weeks later, we drove to The Digger. We walked in and were seated close to the stage. Soon after, the Joe Houston Band took to the stage. I looked at "Joe Houston," and I turned to Connie and said, "that's not Joe Houston" she asked me, "why do you say that?" "This dude is about ten years younger than me, and Joe Houston was about ten years older than me." So during a band break, I walked up to "Joe Houston" at the bar and asked him if he could play 'Cornbread and Cabbage' (another Joe Houston hit from the early '50s). He said he didn't know the tune; I told "Houston," you are not "thee," Joe Houston. "I'm Joe Houston," he said. "I don't know your real name; it might really be Joe Houston for all I know, but you are not the Joe Houston you're pretending to be." 

And, how do you know that?" he asked. "Because you are about ten years younger than me, and thee Joe Houston is about ten years older than me, plus you can't play Corn Bread and Cabbage" he smiled and said, "Okay, but please don't tell no one, and I'll buy you a drink," "I won't say anything but, it will cost you two drinks," he said that that was okay. 

The 'Joe Houston' band gave a good show. We had a good time dancing the night away, but he wasn't "thee" Joe Houston from our Betty's Barn days.

Profiled at The US/Mexican Border

By kiki

 Circa 1990, the company Connie had worked for over thirty years was sold. About three years later, the new owner announced that he was moving the company to the maquiladora (industrial) section of Meza De Otay (a few miles east of Tijuana). Connie was offered a chance to move south with the company. Hence, she asked me if we could go. At that time, I was getting ready to retire, so I said, "sure, but first, we need to negotiate a package for you" So, we set a luncheon date with the company's management team to do so. Connie wasn't sure I could handle the negotiations, so to put her at ease, I told her, "Babe if I can negotiate with Don King and Bob Arum, I can handle this" At the luncheon, I put forth a package; that I had worked on on the bargaining table. In that package, we asked for a $1,000 rent allowance a month, a 20% increase in salary, a five-year salary guarantee, plus the benefits she already had (401K, one month paid vacation, medical insurance, etc.) The company's team pushed back on our demands, but we prevailed on all counts.

So in early April of 1993, we made an appointment with a San Diego Coldwell Banker Real Estate office to look for a house close to the border. After seeing a few places, we settled on a 3-bedroom home on the hills above Bonita in south San Diego County. In mid-April, we moved south, and Connie had a week to rest and do some test runs to the border (back and forth crossing)

By mid-May, we were getting used to the routine of her going to work and me lying around the house or riding my Harley to different parts of San Diego and a few times into Tijuana - It was then that I started my career as a kept man.

"Profiled At The US/Mexican Border"

So did we get profiled as Latinos? I did a couple of times: And here's how it went down: Connie, at times, had to work a few hours on Saturday mornings, so when she did, I would drive her across the border so that after work, I could pick her up on the Harley and we could then ride to Tecate for tacos and beer. 

I was making my return trip across the border one Saturday morning, and when I got to the border, a border agent, a black woman, asked me for my citizenship (back then, you didn't need a passport to cross back and forth into Tijuana). I answered, "American" she then asked me, "how did you become a citizen?" "Huh?" was my reply. she repeated, "how did you become a citizen?" my answer to that was, "the same way you did; I was born in the good ole US of A" she was not about to let me have the last word, so she asked me "and how do you know that I was born in the USA?" I was enjoying the back and forth with the agent, so I told her, "well, I sure in hell don't think you were born in Africa" at that, she figuratively started spouting flames out of her nostrils; she was screaming and yelling at me. Finally, she was so out of control that I told her, "listen, I don't want to talk to you anymore, so call your supervisor" after taking a few deep breaths, she called her boss. He was an older gentleman that asked me what the problem was, and after I explained my side of the story, he told me, without talking to the agent, "be on your way" I did, and as I drove off, I could see the agent on the rearview mirror with her hands on her hips looking at me go off.

Another time I was crossing back after dropping Connie off, a Filipino dude/agent, in very bad English, asked me what my citizenship was. "American," I replied. He then pointed to the long line of cars behind me and said, "you see all those guys behind you? They all say American, too" I turned around and looked at the cars and said, "yeah, they are all my cousins" with that, he told me, "get out of here."

If we all look alike, we'll get profiled, que no?

After three years (1996), the company's owner decided to close the plant because of the corruption in Tijuana; the Tijuana bosses would always see him for the mordida (bribe). So we left Bonita in April 1996, with Connie getting a buyout on her contract's two remaining years. Colwell, who had plants worldwide, offered Connie a job in their Fort Wayne, Indiana, plant. So she was flown out to Fort Wayne for a plant tour there, and when she came back, she asked me, "well, what do you think, do we go?" I said to her, "no way, I ain't going there to freeze my ass" – All in all, we spent a great three years down south.

My late Best friend, John Martinez

                                                   John Martinez
By kiki

In mid-1993, my best friend, John Martinez, was diagnosed with blood cancer (Leukemia); at that time, Connie and I were living in San Diego. One day I received a phone call from John's wife, Bea; she told me about John having cancer and that the doctors had told John that he had less than a year to live. We invited John and Bea to come down to San Diego and spend some weekends with us (They were living in Lake Elsinore, which was about 50 miles from us), and they did. One weekend in early 1994, they came, and we drove down to Puerto Nuevo in Baja California, Mexico, so that John, Bea, and Connie could have lobster (Not me, I don't like seafood) while we were eating; I ask John if he would enjoy a beer or a drink, he told me the doctors told him not to drink alcoholic beverages, I then asked John,

"What else did the doctors tell you?"

"Not to smoke and to kiss my ass goodbye," said John

"John," I said, "the doctors told you not to smoke, and you're still smoking like a train, so have a drink."

He did, then had another one; after that, we hired a mariachi group for the rest of the day, and nite, John had the mariachi sing the song "De Colores" more times than I can remember. John and I had a great time reminiscing about our boxing travels.

My best friend died 5 months later - R.I.P, my friend.

Church Boxing Show

By kiki

Circa 1973, shortly after winning the lightweight title from Chango Carmona, Rodolfo Gonzalez had a boxing show (smoker) at a church in Long Beach, CA. He invited me to bring the boys to box in his show. Frankie was 15 years old, Tony was 12, and Bobby was 10. As soon as we got there, we ran into many old friends, including Jackie McCoy and Freddy Merino, who had some young boxers ready to box.

Freddy had two brothers who were matched with Tony and Bobby. I was having a hard time finding an opponent for Frankie when Freddy said, "I got somebody for him" I looked at the guy, and I told Freddy, "he is kind of old for Frankie" he had to be about 22-23 years old, Freddy replied, "yeah, but he just started boxing" I took the fight.

Tony and Bobby made quick work of their opponents; both won by second-round TKO.

Soon it was Frankie's turn; we got into the ring, and Frankie kept looking at his opponent; after the introductions, we got called to the center of the ring to get our instructions from the referee (have you noticed how I always say "We") as we headed back to our corner to start round one, Frankie looked at me and said "dad, that guy is a grown man" I asked him, "why do you say that" and he replied, "Because he has hair under his arms." Frankie won by decision, and Freddy couldn't believe it; I was to find out later why. 

After the fights, we were in the dressing room, and Jackie McCoy came in laughing his ass off; I asked him, "what so funny?" he told me that Freddy thought he was going to pull one over on me; I asked him what did he mean by that, he said that the guy Frankie fought was a pro, Frankie looked at Jackie and pointing at me told Jackie "with his guts and my blood we're going places" at that moment Freddy walked in and asked me if I had any more kids, Jackie started laughing again and told Freddy "Freddy, he beat you three out of three, two by KO and one against a pro, and you still want more?"

Memories!!

General Delivery

By kiki

The people living in the Simons Brickyard didn't have home mail services. They had to have their mail addressed to "General Delivery, Montebello, Ca." - I remember riding my bike from the late 1940s and up until the Brickyard closed in 1952 to the Montebello Post Office on 5th street (pictured) to pick up our mail (bills) - I shot this picture this morning when I was in Montebello for a haircut, and it was the first time I've seen this post office since 1952...The building has not changed much from those early days. The main entrance is on 5th street, shown is a sidestreet entrance,  - Ah memories! Just can't escape them!

Eggs and Chicharrón's

By kiki

I got up and did some laundry, and the hard work got me hungry, so I was thinking, 'The greasy spoon again? I don't think so,' but I don't cook, so what to do? I had to go to the market (Gonzalez) to get some cilantro and carrots for Smoky the Rabbit, and I was hoping that some idea for breakfast would hit my brain while shopping, and did I get a brainstorm? 

As I passed by the ready-to-eat food, I saw some chicharróns in red chili 'chicharróns, and red chili on top of some over-easy eggs' flashed in front of my eyes, but I didn't know how to cook!! Then one of my imaginary friends, Beto, whispered in my good ear, "You can fry some over-easy eggs, and we can have them with the chicharróns" Did Beto say, "We?" 

So I bought the chicharróns, went home, got Connie's new frying pan (I'm in trouble now), and put some cooking oil in it. After the oil got hot, I cracked two eggs in the oil. I turned them over after a minute or so without breaking the yolk. Damn! That's a new one for me!! So with fresh coffee, corn tortillas, and over-easy eggs with chicharróns in red chili, I had a breakfast that the greasy joint can't touch!!... Plus, I am proud of myself, but I won't tell Connie because she will tell me, "Now that you know how to cook, I won't need to cook for you," That won't work for me!

R.I.P : Abel Fernandez

By kiki

It's with great sadness that I announce the passing of a great human being, our friend, Abel Fernandez. Abel was a Los Angeles Light Heavyweight Golden Gloves Champion in the late 1940's and turned pro in 1950. During his short pro boxing career, Abel fought at the Hollywood Legion Stadium and the Olympic Auditorium numerous times. Whether he was on the card or not, Abel was a fixture at both arenas in that Golden Age of boxing...Abel was inducted into the California Boxing Hall of Fame in 2013. The Los Angeles boxing community and the City of Angels mourn the loss of a great friend.

Abel would become a co-star on the TV-series "The Untouchables." And would go on to appear in countless movies and TV shows….Rest in Peace, Friend

                                   Abel vs. Freddie Beshore...1952

Phil Rice and Janice Greene: Love Story

By kiki

Just finish reading ‘Winter Sun’ a book written by my good friend Phil Rice. ‘Winter Sun’ is a Memoir of Love and Hospice. My written words here are not meant to be a review of the book because I am not qualified to review a book that exuberances love from chapter to chapter....Phil Rice and Janice Greene met in 2005 in an Episcopal Church in Gatlinburg Tennessee. They met and felled in love. In November of 2010 during a trip to Niagara Falls Phil asked Janice to marry him, and she accepted. They made plans to marry in the Smoky Mountains in the spring of the following year. But as they were making wedding plans tragedy struck. Phil’s beautiful bride-to-be was diagnosed with stage four brain cancer. Phil writes about the last months of Janice’s life and how their love grew stronger as the cancer was taking her away from him. ‘Winter Sun’ takes you on a journey through valleys of sadness and tears and, mountains of exuberant love….I highly recommend 'Winter Sun'

Ah Memories: Rag Mop!!

By kiki

Rag Mop: This tune brings back many memories from my early teens (early 1950's). The song, a 12-bar blues, written by Tulsa Western Swing bandleader Johnnie Lee Wills and steel guitarist Deacon Anderson and performed by Lionel Hampton (vocals by The Hamptons) and published in 1949, was huge back in the mid-20th century among the Simons Brickyard (a company town) teenagers and young adults.

It was played and danced repeatedly at house parties and Friday night dances held at the Vail Elementary School Auditorium…I close my eyes and see my older late sister Rachel and her friends, Josie, Rosie, Lucy, et al. doing the jitterbug with guys like Beto, Tony, Chuy, and others at whatever house parties we 13-14-year-old teens were allowed to attend….To attend the Vail Elementary School Auditorium dances, one needed to be at least 15 years old, leaving us young teens out in the cold…At times, we tried to crash the dances, only to be thrown out on our butts by the older guys.

After we were thrown out one Friday night, we young kids climbed a knoll that used to overlook the auditorium. From that vantage point, we used our primitive slingshots (2 leather bands attached to a shoe tongue) and papered the auditorium's roof with rocks.

At one point, the school principal, Mr. Bellamy (he had to be there for the 15 and over-crowd to hold their dances), came out to investigate only to be met by a hail of rocks; he then ran back inside. We left feeling good: thinking that we had gotten our revenge over the older teens, young adults, and Mr. Bellamy...Us younger teens never did get a chance to attend a dance at the Vail Elementary School Auditorium because not long after our slingshot assault, both the school and brickyard were closed.

Connie and the Guy’s Rent Money

By kiki

I had gotten 6 comps tickets from Don Chargin for the 1972 Rodolfo Gonzalez vs. Chango Carmona fight at the Los Angeles Sports Arena. So I took my wife, Connie, and our one and only daughter, Linda, and our three sons, Fernie, Anthony, and Bobby (now we have four sons), to see the fight. 

We were 15 or18 or so rows from ringside; in front of us was a guy with thousands of dollars, and he was putting all the money on Carmona. So every time he made a bet, all funds were given to Connie to hold. When the Carmona fan was down to his last $100, he couldn't find any more takers, so I went for it and took his bet. 

Well, you should have seen the rush of guys trying to get their money from Connie after Rodolfo won, she didn't know who was who, I got my two hundred dollars from her and told her just give the money to whoever said they won and let's get the hell out of here, which we did, and the guy that lost?

I thought he was going to cry. I suspect he probably lost the rent money.

2016 Presidential Pretenders

By kiki

My take on the 2016 presidential pretenders:

Marco Rubio: Dennis The Menace: Rubio acts like a pre-teen.

Donald Trump: Bozo The Clown: Trump is a cartoonish character

Ted Cruz: Adolf Hitler: Cruz wants total world domination, there is a video of a young Cruz saying just that.

John Kasich: Rodney Dangerfield: poor John can’t get-no-respect.

Hillary Clinton: Ma Barker: the trust thing hangs over her like a dark rain cloud.

Bernie Sanders: Robin Hood: wants to take from the rich and give it to the poor, and that might not be a bad idea because I could use a few coins myself.

Another Cold

By kiki

I've been sick with a cold for about ten days now and it doesn’t seem to be getting any better, in fact it seem to get worse as days go by, so this morning I said to Connie “babe, old age hasn’t been kind to me” she replied with a hall of fame comment “that’s because you weren’t kind to your youth, you party too much” She never ceases to amaze me in that she can say so much with so few words

I Often Wonder

By kiki

I often wonder what happened to the people I briefly met throughout my life, some of whom I never learned their names. Are those boys and girls, men and women that passed briefly through my life, and I through theirs still alive? Where are they, what are they doing, are they in good or bad health. I often wonder!!

Fernie and Kim

By kiki

It's eerily quiet across the street this morning. Our son Fernie and his wife Kim sold their house and moved out yesterday. It's a sad feeling for me, as I was used to seeing them up and about for the many years they lived across from us. I even missed their wandering cats this morning. The cats were always out in the early mornings, and they would greet me as I went out to pick up the newspaper….This morning is the beginning of another chapter in our lives, and I hope it all ends well for all of us….Feeling sad!!

Debit Card

By kiki

Earlier this morning, as I was in bed reading a book, I started to get hungry, so I said to myself, "self, get your ass out of bed and go to your favorite greasy spoon and get something to eat" So I jumped out of bed and jumped in the shower for a quick wet down...As I was driving to the greasy spoon, I thought about what I was going to eat. The greasy spoon I frequent regularly has a minimal menu (but cheap), so I decided to go to another greasy spoon; even though it's a slightly higher class food joint, it is still, nonetheless, a greasy spoon...I ordered huevos con chicharrón en chili Verde, corn tortillas, and cinnamon-spiced coffee. And like the kids say, "it was the bomb" Done eating, I walked up to the beautiful honey working the till, fished out my wallet to dig out my debit card, but, damn, there was no debit card in my wallet! Luckily I had a few coins in my pocket, enough to pay the honey and tip the waitress...

As I drove out of the parking lot, I remembered where I had last used the debit card, "CVS" (bought some drugs). So I drove straight to CVS, and as I walked in, the lady that helped me saw me and said, "I was wondering when you were coming back for your debit card"...Even though it all ended well, I will not tell Connie about this because I know what she will say "so you fucked up again"...Now I don't want to give the impression that Connie uses that kind of language regularly; she doesn't; she does only when I fuck-up! 

Dolphin's of Hollywood Record Shop

By kiki

Back in the early1950s, Dolphins of Hollywood Record Shop was the place for teenagers and young adults to hang out and for boys to meet girls and girls to meet boys. In the night hours, there would be a D.J. (Huggy Boy, Hunter Hancock, and Charles Trammel, et al.) spinning records on the airwaves (KRKD), and the D.J.'s would let you dedicate on the airwaves a song to your loved one. The Doo-Wop artists of the day would make appearances and pass out autographed photos...I got to meet many of those artists. It was a fascinating time for all of us young people to experience.

                                             Lovin'John Dolphin

The 1950s was a time of blatant racism in the USA. But, in the early '50s, Lovin'John Dolphin's record shop, located in the mostly-black section of Los Angeles: on Vernon Ave and Central Ave., South Central L.A., "the music mecca of the west coast," proved that music could bridge the racial divide among the 1950's youth. 

The record shop and radio shows would unite young people of all races during segregation. Yes, young people of all races would make their way to the black community to congregate at the open 24-hour record shop, and the black, white, Asian, and Latino youth of the '50s would dance and party together inside and outside the shop till the wee hours of the morning.

I remember giving my parents headaches whenever I would do overnighters at the record shop. But some of those Dolphins of Hollywood Record Shop wee hour moments are now great memories, and I am sure my parents, while not liking that I was staying out all night, would have understood if I had just taken the time to explain; those great moments to them…For about three years, I spent most of my free time at Dolphins, but time has a habit of changing things for you, and even if you are not ready for the change, time will make sure that it happens. As I got a little older, I started exploring other parts of the City of Angels and spent less time at Dolphins. Still, the memories of those days, dancing on the shop's sidewalk with some chick whose name you didn't even know and jiving with cats of all races will forever be with me….Those long-ago memories made at the legendary Dolphins of Hollywood Record Shop will forever be alive for those lucky enough to experience 'Dolphins of Hollywood Record Shop' in the early '50s.

                                 John Dolphin and Billie Holiday

Montebello in Despair

By kiki

After having breakfast Connie and I took a cruise to Brogiere’s Dairy in Montebello to buy orange juice in glass bottles, unfortunately, they were out of it, and they said they wouldn’t have any till Wednesday. We left Brogiere's and headed south on Maple till we got to Date in Simons. We turned east on Date to Greenwood, then south on Greenwood, we then turned east on one of the side streets, maybe Elm St. not sure, but anyway, I couldn’t help but notice how rundown South Montebello is. I remember riding my bike on all those streets east of Greenwood in the early ’50s and thinking how beautiful those neighborhoods were, of course, compare to El Hoyo Simons; any other neighborhood was beautiful to a young kid riding a bike. Put together with mostly stolen parts….Most of Montebello south of Whittier Blvd seems to be in heavy despair…It was sad to see the beautiful city that I love, the one I went to junior high and high school looking so run down!!