By KiKi
I have some Facebook friends that use the bible when making excuses for Trump's decision making. Any president, in my opinion, that uses the Bible in making decisions that affect all of us should be impeached. A president swears allegiance to the US Constitution, and not to the Bible. In taking that oath the president and other government officials are obliged to follow our constitution in making laws that we all have to live with. and I say that because our system of government is predicated on the freedom of religion. The beauty of the US Constitution is that it gives you the freedom to believe or not to believe in a supreme being.
Now about religious beliefs: I'm a believer. I do believe in a supreme being, and I believe that the day will come when he will judge me for my actions on planet earth, I just hope he will not be too harsh on me. I also believe that my relationship, such as it is, with God is only between him and me, I sure don't feel the need to shout it out in public. I don't go to church often but I pray in my own private way, and while that might not sit well with the religious fanatics it does work well for me because I am at peace with myself and with my God.
Wednesday, June 20, 2018
Saturday, June 9, 2018
Withered and Sere
By kiki
I've been having trouble getting around the house in the last week or so. Getting more withered and sere by the day, and if things weren't bad enough, I get a freaking jury summons. I ain't going. They can come for me and put my withered ass en el bote. And if any of the homies en la cárcel want to shake me down for money or smokes, I'll tell them not to mess with me; I'll let them know that I'm busted for purse snatching that I am one badass old dude. Of course, though, I'll be shaking in my boots when I tell the homies that.
Thursday, June 7, 2018
Not One of My finest Moments
By kiki
In 1976, I had a youthful (I was 39, hey, that is still youthful, que, no?) moment I am not very proud of, but it happened. Whenever I look back at that moment, I say to myself, 'dude, you are one lucky sonofabitch' That "youthful moment" happened in Green Bay, Wis., and here is the story behind that moment: In 1976, my son Tony made the Southern California AAU National Junior Olympic boxing team. The national finals were held at St. Norbert College. St. Norbert College is a private Roman Catholic liberal art college in the Green Bay suburb of De Pere. - After having a couple of high-priced airport drinks, my boxing partner, the late John Martinez, and the late coach Lupe Morua (his son Aaron was also on the team) and I boarded with the rest of the team and other coaches/parents, the red-eye at LAX. On the flight, the teenage boxers were behaving like teenagers, and we proud parents were acting, well, like proud parents, and we were drinking to our proudness. Needless to say, with the party atmosphere on the plane, we didn't sleep a wink on the flight to Chicago's O'Hare airport. We arrived, needing to connect to Green Bay, at O'Hare's on Sunday morning. After running from one end of the airport to the other, we made our connecting flight and arrived in Green Bay at about noon, their time (Green Bay is about two hours ahead of Pacific time). As we got in line to deplane in Green Bay, I turned around and faced the guy behind me, and I said to myself, 'damn, I know this dude' it was former Green Bay Packers QB Bart Starr.
Once inside the terminal, I decided to rent a car, I don't remember what rental company it was, but the point is that I rented a 1976 Oldsmobile Cutlass with 250 + miles on its odometer. On the rental contract, I paid extra to waive the $250.00 deductible in case of an accident. The first thing we (John, Lupe, and I) did once we left the airport was get lost on our way to St. Norbert College. After going around in circles a few times, we decided to stop at a bar to get directions, but because you can't go into a bar and get something for nothing, we ordered some beers to make the barmaid happy as she wrote the directions. While we were waiting on the barmaid, a young couple told Lupe they would show us how to get there if we gave them a ride to De Pere. We, of course, said "sure" On the way to the college, the young couple asked us where we were from, and we told them we were from Los Angeles. And, in a surprise move, they invited us to a house party that they were going to that night and said they would come, if we wanted to go, to the college for us. They did; it was around dusk when they came for us. After driving for about twenty minutes, we arrived at the house party. We entered the house only to find out that the party was for gays, and since neither John, Lupe, nor I indulged in gay activity, we left the party. By this time, it was dark, and we were running on fumes without having slept since Friday night. And of course, we got lost, again! While trying to find our way back to the college, we came upon a railroad crossing. The crossing only had some blinking lights; it did not have one of those long crossing arms that comes down when a train is passing. I stopped at the blinking lights to wait out the slow-moving train (it was traveling no more than five miles an hour), And while I had my foot on the brake peddle while waiting for the train to go by, in my sleepless stupor, I left the car in D gear, and you know what happened. When I woke up, the new Cutlass was bouncing off the train; with the car still running, I put it in reverse and backed off; once I backed up, John, Lupe, and I got out of the vehicle to assess the damage on the Cutlass. The hood and fenders pointed in one direction, and the rest of the car pointed in another.
And, of course, the cops were called. They asked me if I had been drinking, and I answered, "no, sir, I don't drink" The cop then told me, "well, I have to write you up for something, so I'll write you up for inattentive driving." So he did; he also told me that it would cost me $69.00; he then asked me if I had $69.00; I guess we looked like illegal bums for him to think that maybe we didn't have the $69.00. asked him for the address to send my 69-dollar check, and he said no, you paid it now. I then asked him if I could pay him the money; he wasn't happy that maybe I thought he was on the take. No, you pay at the station, now! he kinda yelled at me. So we were driven to the station in a black and white car. I paid for the ticket, and a cab was called for us - The following day, I called the rental company. I told them that their new Cutlass was in the impound yard and explained the accident to them, and I was told I had to pay the $250.00 deductible. When I explained that I had paid extra to waive the deductible, they said I still had to pay the $250.00. So I hung up on them. I then told the tournament director, a lawyer, what was happening; he asked to see the contract. After reading it and seeing that I indeed had paid to waive the deductible, he called the rental company and talked with the manager; after getting off the phone, he said, to me, "it's all handle." So the following days if we wanted to go somewhere we walked. - Oh, and Tony? He won the national title in his weight class and was named the outstanding fighter of the first four lower weight classes.
In 1976, I had a youthful (I was 39, hey, that is still youthful, que, no?) moment I am not very proud of, but it happened. Whenever I look back at that moment, I say to myself, 'dude, you are one lucky sonofabitch' That "youthful moment" happened in Green Bay, Wis., and here is the story behind that moment: In 1976, my son Tony made the Southern California AAU National Junior Olympic boxing team. The national finals were held at St. Norbert College. St. Norbert College is a private Roman Catholic liberal art college in the Green Bay suburb of De Pere. - After having a couple of high-priced airport drinks, my boxing partner, the late John Martinez, and the late coach Lupe Morua (his son Aaron was also on the team) and I boarded with the rest of the team and other coaches/parents, the red-eye at LAX. On the flight, the teenage boxers were behaving like teenagers, and we proud parents were acting, well, like proud parents, and we were drinking to our proudness. Needless to say, with the party atmosphere on the plane, we didn't sleep a wink on the flight to Chicago's O'Hare airport. We arrived, needing to connect to Green Bay, at O'Hare's on Sunday morning. After running from one end of the airport to the other, we made our connecting flight and arrived in Green Bay at about noon, their time (Green Bay is about two hours ahead of Pacific time). As we got in line to deplane in Green Bay, I turned around and faced the guy behind me, and I said to myself, 'damn, I know this dude' it was former Green Bay Packers QB Bart Starr.
Once inside the terminal, I decided to rent a car, I don't remember what rental company it was, but the point is that I rented a 1976 Oldsmobile Cutlass with 250 + miles on its odometer. On the rental contract, I paid extra to waive the $250.00 deductible in case of an accident. The first thing we (John, Lupe, and I) did once we left the airport was get lost on our way to St. Norbert College. After going around in circles a few times, we decided to stop at a bar to get directions, but because you can't go into a bar and get something for nothing, we ordered some beers to make the barmaid happy as she wrote the directions. While we were waiting on the barmaid, a young couple told Lupe they would show us how to get there if we gave them a ride to De Pere. We, of course, said "sure" On the way to the college, the young couple asked us where we were from, and we told them we were from Los Angeles. And, in a surprise move, they invited us to a house party that they were going to that night and said they would come, if we wanted to go, to the college for us. They did; it was around dusk when they came for us. After driving for about twenty minutes, we arrived at the house party. We entered the house only to find out that the party was for gays, and since neither John, Lupe, nor I indulged in gay activity, we left the party. By this time, it was dark, and we were running on fumes without having slept since Friday night. And of course, we got lost, again! While trying to find our way back to the college, we came upon a railroad crossing. The crossing only had some blinking lights; it did not have one of those long crossing arms that comes down when a train is passing. I stopped at the blinking lights to wait out the slow-moving train (it was traveling no more than five miles an hour), And while I had my foot on the brake peddle while waiting for the train to go by, in my sleepless stupor, I left the car in D gear, and you know what happened. When I woke up, the new Cutlass was bouncing off the train; with the car still running, I put it in reverse and backed off; once I backed up, John, Lupe, and I got out of the vehicle to assess the damage on the Cutlass. The hood and fenders pointed in one direction, and the rest of the car pointed in another.
And, of course, the cops were called. They asked me if I had been drinking, and I answered, "no, sir, I don't drink" The cop then told me, "well, I have to write you up for something, so I'll write you up for inattentive driving." So he did; he also told me that it would cost me $69.00; he then asked me if I had $69.00; I guess we looked like illegal bums for him to think that maybe we didn't have the $69.00. asked him for the address to send my 69-dollar check, and he said no, you paid it now. I then asked him if I could pay him the money; he wasn't happy that maybe I thought he was on the take. No, you pay at the station, now! he kinda yelled at me. So we were driven to the station in a black and white car. I paid for the ticket, and a cab was called for us - The following day, I called the rental company. I told them that their new Cutlass was in the impound yard and explained the accident to them, and I was told I had to pay the $250.00 deductible. When I explained that I had paid extra to waive the deductible, they said I still had to pay the $250.00. So I hung up on them. I then told the tournament director, a lawyer, what was happening; he asked to see the contract. After reading it and seeing that I indeed had paid to waive the deductible, he called the rental company and talked with the manager; after getting off the phone, he said, to me, "it's all handle." So the following days if we wanted to go somewhere we walked. - Oh, and Tony? He won the national title in his weight class and was named the outstanding fighter of the first four lower weight classes.
Saturday, June 2, 2018
Ernesto Adame Jr.
By kiki
Thanks to Facebook, I have reconnected with my cousin Ernesto Adame Jr...Ernie and I haven’t seen each other in about 35 years; the Last time we saw each other was around 1980 when I visit him at his then home in San Jose, CA; we were still young men then, now both of us are old geezers…Circa 1980: Connie, my late boxing partner John Martinez and I were driving home from an amateur boxing tournament that was held in Sacramento, and as we got near to Stockton via HWY 99 I remember that Ernie’s brother, Amador, lived in Stockton. I took the first exit that would take me into Fat City, and as we were driving on the off-ramp, I spotted a gas station that had some phone booths; remember the old phone booths? You are old if you do! I pulled into the gas station and parked by the phone booths hoping that Amador’s phone number was listed; it was, so I drop a dime on Amador; he answered, and I told him where I was at, and he said, “don’t move from there, I’ll be there in three minutes” He showed up in about three minutes, give or take a few seconds. We followed Amador to his house, where we got reacquainted with his family. While visiting Amador, he suggested that we visit Ernie in San Jose “let’s go, we’ll follow you,” I told Amador. We had a great time getting reacquainted with Ernie, Amador, and their families.
Fast forward to 2016, Amador now lives in Mexico, and Ernie lives in Tracy, Ca. and since reconnecting on Facebook, Ernie and I have talked on the phone couple of times. I invited him to join us on our annual trip to the June Lake Loop for the opening day of the trout fishing season in late April, and I am happy to say that he accepted, and he said that maybe his son Ernie will join us too. After all, these years that have gone by, it will be great to see my cousin Ernie again.
Thanks to Facebook, I have reconnected with my cousin Ernesto Adame Jr...Ernie and I haven’t seen each other in about 35 years; the Last time we saw each other was around 1980 when I visit him at his then home in San Jose, CA; we were still young men then, now both of us are old geezers…Circa 1980: Connie, my late boxing partner John Martinez and I were driving home from an amateur boxing tournament that was held in Sacramento, and as we got near to Stockton via HWY 99 I remember that Ernie’s brother, Amador, lived in Stockton. I took the first exit that would take me into Fat City, and as we were driving on the off-ramp, I spotted a gas station that had some phone booths; remember the old phone booths? You are old if you do! I pulled into the gas station and parked by the phone booths hoping that Amador’s phone number was listed; it was, so I drop a dime on Amador; he answered, and I told him where I was at, and he said, “don’t move from there, I’ll be there in three minutes” He showed up in about three minutes, give or take a few seconds. We followed Amador to his house, where we got reacquainted with his family. While visiting Amador, he suggested that we visit Ernie in San Jose “let’s go, we’ll follow you,” I told Amador. We had a great time getting reacquainted with Ernie, Amador, and their families.
Fast forward to 2016, Amador now lives in Mexico, and Ernie lives in Tracy, Ca. and since reconnecting on Facebook, Ernie and I have talked on the phone couple of times. I invited him to join us on our annual trip to the June Lake Loop for the opening day of the trout fishing season in late April, and I am happy to say that he accepted, and he said that maybe his son Ernie will join us too. After all, these years that have gone by, it will be great to see my cousin Ernie again.
Friday, June 1, 2018
The Ex-Star-Prize-Fighter
By kiki
The arenas are now dark, and the crowds are gone, but the ex-star-prize-fighter, as he shuffles down the avenue, still waves and bows at crowds his dementia mind tells him are still there.
The ex-star-prize-fighter: who is too young to die but too old to live under dark dementia clouds, shadowbox down a barrio's alley waving to an imaginary crowd he sees as he shadowboxes his way to an imaginary ring at the Olympic Auditorium.
With pen and plain paper in hand, the ex-star-prize-fighter signed an autograph to a fan that only he could see. Then, he thanked and shook the fan's hand.
While skipping down the avenue with an imaginary rope, some kids asked the ex-star-prize-fighter what he was doing jumping up and down; he replied that he was getting ready for a comeback.
Selling the Knockout magazine/program in front of the old granite building: the famed Olympic Auditorium, the ex-star-prize-fighter was overheard telling fans to be sure to come back the following week because he was fighting the main event.
The ex-star-prize-fighter fighter overheard a young fan making his way into the famed arena ask his companion if he knew who the old pug was. The companion replied that he was just an old has-been fighter; hearing that, the old fighter told the young fans to remember that it's always better to be a has-been than a never-was. - And so it was with the ex-star-prize-fighter.
The arenas are now dark, and the crowds are gone, but the ex-star-prize-fighter, as he shuffles down the avenue, still waves and bows at crowds his dementia mind tells him are still there.
The ex-star-prize-fighter: who is too young to die but too old to live under dark dementia clouds, shadowbox down a barrio's alley waving to an imaginary crowd he sees as he shadowboxes his way to an imaginary ring at the Olympic Auditorium.
With pen and plain paper in hand, the ex-star-prize-fighter signed an autograph to a fan that only he could see. Then, he thanked and shook the fan's hand.
While skipping down the avenue with an imaginary rope, some kids asked the ex-star-prize-fighter what he was doing jumping up and down; he replied that he was getting ready for a comeback.
Selling the Knockout magazine/program in front of the old granite building: the famed Olympic Auditorium, the ex-star-prize-fighter was overheard telling fans to be sure to come back the following week because he was fighting the main event.
The ex-star-prize-fighter fighter overheard a young fan making his way into the famed arena ask his companion if he knew who the old pug was. The companion replied that he was just an old has-been fighter; hearing that, the old fighter told the young fans to remember that it's always better to be a has-been than a never-was. - And so it was with the ex-star-prize-fighter.
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