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.

Memorial Days of yore

By KiKi

Starting in the .mid-'60's, Memorial Day and other national holidays were a time for us to hit the road to the Eastern Sierra via highway 395. We made our first trip to the Sierra in a 1958 Chevy pickup. After returning from that first trip, I sold the pickup and bought a 1966 ¾-ton Chevy pickup with an 8-foot cab-over camper. We kept that pickup for about 4 years and then purchased a 19-foot Dodge motorhome. By the mid-1970, we were ready for a newer and bigger motorhome, so we bought (what turned out to be our last motorhome) a 24-foot 1975 Dodge. - From the mid-'60s till the early-'90's opening day of the trout season was reserved for guys-only trips. The national holidays were a family affair.

With the pickups and motorhomes, we could camp in many different campgrounds, which are in abounds along highway 395. By 2001, the 1975 Dodge motorhome had been sitting, without being used, in our driveway for about 6 years. At that time, I decided to donate it to some worthy cause; I don't remember what that worthy cause was, though - Nowadays, for the opening weekend (still a guy's thing) and closing weekend, my boys and I, with some friends, go to the June Lake Loop where we rent some cabins. The family trips (the last one was early-'90s) are a thing of the past as our kids are grown (read old) up and have lives of their own. Plus, some live out of state. I make fewer trips to the Eastern Sierra in my old age, but the memories of those trips of yore live on.

Motorcycle Road Trip

By KiKi

            On one of our week-long motorcycle road trips. At Bridgeport, Ca....1995

My brother Mando and his wife Pat were trying to steal money from the ATM machine (jk) with my wife Connie as the lookout.

Riding a Harley or any other motorcycle is one of the best ways to see and appreciate the beauty that is Highway 395. On our first night on the road, we camped at Mcgee Creek. - After we left Bridgeport, we rode 395 to Susanville. From Susanville, we rode west on state route 44; from 44, we took SR 89 to Burney Falls. The park was packed, and we couldn't find a campsite nearby, so we rode to Weed, where we found a campground. From Weed, we took SR 97 to Klamath Falls, Oregon. From Klamath Falls, we rode west on Oregon's SR 66 to the I-5. We then took the 5 home  – I've told members of my family and friends that any chance they get, they visit resorts all over the world, Cancun, Hawaii, Cabo, Europe, etc., to make time to check out the beauty in our own backyard.

Haircut and Greasy Menudo

By kiki

Even though I have not been feeling chipper lately (old age is really getting to me), I nevertheless drove this morning to Daniel's Hair Studio in Montebello for a cut and comb (I was long overdue). I started feeling hunger pains as Dan was working his magic. - I think that my imaginary friend Beto was also hungry because as Dan was cutting around my bad ear, he whispered in my good ear, "I need some menudo, dude, I need to cure this hangover" So I told Beto that as soon as Dan was done, I would find us a menudo joint. At that, Dan asked me, "did you say something?" I didn't answer him - It has been a while since I've had menudo. My La Indiana Friday morning's menudo runs are no more. I stopped doing the La Indiana menudo runs when the people that run La Indiana, in their good wisdom, changed the menudo recipe. We found a joint in El Monte. It was a nondescript joint on Durfee; I don't know if it's street, avenue, or blvd. We went in and ordered menudo, Beto also wanted a beer, but I nixed that real fast. Was the menudo good? No! It was probably the worse menudo I have had in my many years of eating the stuff. It was really greasy, and they make it without pata. The first thought that came to my head when I saw the menudo was 'no wonder they call us greaser' Beto ate some of his menudo, and I left mine almost untouched. Walking out, I told Beto the menudo was too greasy, and he said, 'greasy, and no pata makes for a bad menudo, but I ate mine because I have a hangover' Maybe I needed a hangover too!

Acid kicked me in behind

By kiki 

(Reposted from Facebook)

Hi guys. Sorry that I haven't been able to respond to your inquiries about my health status. And it'is not because I don't appreciate it, I do, please me believe me that I do appreciate it. And for those that asked if there is anything you can do for me, your prayers and thoughts are what I need right now.

As too what is going on?: It looks like I got hit with a severe massive acid reflux attack (had one about two months ago. Took me about 2 weeks to get over it). The pain and burning sensation that you get from these massive acid attacks can be brutal. First, you are afraid that you going to die, and when you don't you start thinking about your friends (which one has a gun that you can borrow?)

Love you guys, but please don't ask me any questions. Because I won't be able to answer them, I just don't have the strength to do so. This attack has me doing the 'old Man Shuffle' Hey! I bet Connie and I could have won many dancing contests with my new crazy moves.   I'll be checking in on your comments. Thank you for your thoughts and prayers.    

A Symphony in My Backyard

By kiki

As I was lying in bed reading the newspaper I could hear what sounded like a symphony being played in my backyard. I got up to see if I could find out who were the culprits that were playing that artistic magic I was hearing. Looking out my sliding door I could see who the culprits were that were playing the strings and horns. On my pomegranate tree, they were. The birds. They were singing and playing their beautiful music on this beautiful spring morning. Have a great day, my friends!

Coffee, Not Booze

By kiki

At 2:36 am this morning, I woke up to answer the call of nature. Like clockwork, a man my age wakes up between 2:30 and 3am to answer the call of nature. But, don't worry; you will find it unavoidable when you reach your elder years. As I crawled back between the sheets, my pup, Sister, notified me that she too had to go and answer the call of nature. So, I crawled out of bed again to open the door for her, then I had to sit and wait for her to finish doing her personal business. Done: she decided she wanted to play outside for a bit. By the time she was ready to come in, it was 3:20am, and by then, I was wide awake, so I decided to get into my drinks, coffee, not booze.