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!!