Pops 1941 Ford Woody

By kiki

 My Pops 1941 Ford Woody is pictured above at Gallatin Rd, Pico Viejo (now Pico Rivera). That is my sister Annie hanging on, circa 1953

The wood where the left rear door hinges were screwed on was rotten, so the screws wouldn't hold. And whenever I made a right-hand turn, the door would fly open or off. When it would fly out, I would have to stop and pick the door from the street and slam it back in place. My buddies used to rag on me all the time because of the door. Nobody wanted to sit on the left rear seat. The brakes also were not that great. During the summer of 1952, I packed the woody with friends while cruising and listening to R&B's on the Hunter Hancock radio show in Old Pico. My friend Albino was sitting on the left rear seat. Coming down a small hill toward an intersection, I applied the brakes to the woody just as Fats Domino started singing, "I'm Going to the River," but the woody kept going. I approached the intersection at a pretty good clip, and as I made a fast right-hand turn, the left rear door flew open with Albino flying out; this was one of the times the door didn't fall off. Albino, as he was flying out, was able to grab and hold onto the top of the door; as we were rolling down the street, he was holding onto the open door and running alongside the woody, yelling at me, "kiki, stop the car" "I can't, the brakes don't work, I have to down-shift" I yelled back at him. After I finally stopped, the woody Albino was so pissed at me and was trying to beat me up as I was rolling on the ground laughing. I think he wet his skivvies.

One time I was taking my mom and a couple of her sisters to visit another sister. My Aunt Lupe was sitting left rear holding a baby, and as I made a fast right turn, the door flew off with Aunt Lupe and the baby flying out too. Aunt Lupe landed on her butt and bounced a couple of times without letting go of the baby. Aunt Lupe and the baby were okay, but she was mad and wanted to kill me; she handed the baby to my mom and started hitting me on the chest with her tiny fist as she screamed at me. She wouldn't get in the woody after that, and she carried the baby the mile or so to her sister's house.

In the late summer of 1952, my dad bought a 1950 Chevy, and I bought my first car, a 1938 Chevy, in the early fall of 1952. And while the woody still ran, it was not used. Then, in the summer of '53, Mom and Dad took a three-week vacation to Mexico, and while they were gone, a friend, Frankie, who drove a 1940-Ford asked me if I would sell him the woody's transmission and said he needed a tranny as his had gone south. He told me I'll pay you ten dollars later; that's fine, I told him. But, again, the woody was not used, so I told him to go ahead and drop the tranny, and that he could pay me later, he dropped the tranny in no time flat.

A few days after Mom and Dad got back from Mexico, Dad told Mom, "I'll be back in a bit, going to take the woody out for a spin; it hasn't been run for a while, and it needs to be run to keep the battery up." I was looking for a rock to crawl under; finding none, I told Pops, "Pop, you can't drive the woody."

"Why not"?

"You can't drive it without a tranny”

"What happened to the tranny”?

"I sold it."

He took it well and didn't get really pissed at me. Not long after that, he sold Old Woody.

I never got the ten dollars from Frankie!!

Mother's Day...2013

By kiki

Wishing my late Mom, Eulalia Adame-Baltazar, a Happy Mother's Day. I have lots of memories of Mom, some happy ones, like when we were kids in the late 1940s, she would take us to the show to watch Roy Rogers cowboy movies, also have some not-so-happy ones, like when she would grab me by the ear and pull and twist it for such minor things as making my sisters cry, which I did, by pulling their hair or smacking them one. I would try to explain to Mom that  I was just having fun making the girls cry but being the intelligent woman she was, she wouldn't buy my explanation. Happy Mother's Day, Mom.

Love you

kiki

"The Boyfriend"

By kiki

Around 1950, while living in Simons, my older sister, Rachel, had a boyfriend, Ramon. When Ramon would come over in the evenings to see her, he had to come inside the house because big sister was not allowed to go outside with him. Ramon drove a 1939 Chevy that didn't have a key; he would just hot-wire it to get it running. 

So as soon as Ramon would walk inside the house, I would walk out the back door, and jump in Ramon's '39 Chevy, hot-wire it and go pick up my friends and go joy-riding around the brickyard. I knew when Ramon would be leaving, so I would park the '39 back in front of the house 15-20 minutes before Ramon would leave. Then, after saying goodbye to Rachel, Ramon would hot-wire the Chevy, and as he was ready to leave, he would look at the gas gauge and go nuts "they stole my f*^#kin' gas again!"...

Boston

By kiki

The Boston Marathon bombing brought back memories from my travel to the "Cradle of Liberty" city. In 1973, as head coach of the 1973 Los Angeles Golden Gloves Team, I traveled with the team to Boston for the National Golden Gloves Tournament.

We arrived at Boston's Logan International Airport on a Sunday for the week-long tournament. A bus was waiting for us to take us to a hotel in Lawrence, which is north of Boston. The tournament was held in Lowell, which is northwest of Boston.

After the first night of boxing, I went to a pizza joint, and as soon as I walked through the door of the joint, a gentleman in his late 50s approached me and said: "you are Mexican or Mexican-American, right?" I told him that, yes, I was a Mexican-American from Los Angeles, California. He then proceeded to tell me his name, don't remember it now, and how he ended up in Boston after WWII. Said that he was from New Mexico and that he too was Mexican-American, could have fooled me; he was whiter than some gabacho's I know, Said that during the war, he was station in Boston with the US Navy, and that he had met a local girl, married her and stayed in Boston. He told me how happy he was to see a follow Mexican-American because there weren't many in Boston. Met his family, wife, and grown-up children. He wouldn't let me pay for my dinner, which was okay with me. Later in the week, he had me over to his house for dinner with him and his family. And he was a cop!

One night I was at the hotel bar, which was slow in action. I asked a guy drinking at the bar if he knew of some nightclubs where a guy could go dancing. He looked me over and said, "for you, about five miles down the highway" I drove the five miles and ended up in a Puerto Rican neighborhood. I didn't stop, too many PRs in the street, went back to the hotel to sleep instead. Was that dude racist or what?

Mid-week we had a day off from boxing. A couple with us asked me if I would like to go to Salem and see the Witch Houses. So I did, but I was disappointed; I didn't see any witches.

Tournament over, we were coming home with one national champion "Roy Hollis."

Checking in for our flight back home at Logan, a lady working the check-in counter said to me, "you are Chicano, so am I" She then told me she was from Texas but had moved to Boston; I asked her why, but she wouldn't tell me. I think she was on the lam from a husband or a boyfriend!

Flying back home on a 747, a bar was set up on a counter in mid-plane. On top of the counter was a small galvanized tub full of 6oz cans of Coors beer in ice. A flight attendant was selling the Coors for fifty cents a can. I think she was drinking more than she was selling because she started acting like she was at a party, kinda wild!! I parked myself next to the beer tub and drank for free, by the time we landed at LAX I wasn't feeling any pain.

Connie’s Driver Exam

By kiki

Connie is studying for her CA. DMV written exam, which she is taking this morning. Here in Califas, when you hit the magic number of 70 years, you need to go in for a written and eye exam and a new mug shot when your driver's license comes up for renewal.

Yesterday she told me, "I'll be back, going to the beauty shop to have my hair comb" I replied, "have your hair comb?, you just had your hair done last week" I couldn't believe what she told me next. "I know, but I need to have my hair comb for my driver's license picture" Say what?!!!!

A Cruise Down Memory Lane

Lupe's, East Los

 By kiki

A few years ago, I had an appointment with a Hematologist at USC's Norris Cancer Center. My bone marrow sometimes did not produce enough red blood cells. My red blood cell numbers would go up and down like a yo-yo. After seeing and bullshitting with the doctor for what seemed like hours, it was only about twenty minutes; he said, "go to the lab and see the vampire." After waiting about 5 minutes in the lab's lobby, the vampire invited me into her cave, showing me her fangs. She told me, "sit here" I did. She then opened a drawer on her workstation and brought out a bunch of tubes. I told her, "why not just get a five-gallon bucket" she replied by giving me a look that said, 'if you don't shut up, I will; after that look, I kept my mouth shut because I didn't want to die of exsanguination. After leaving the lab, I made an appointment for a two-week follow-up. The lab results would tell me if anything serious was happening. (nothing was)

USC Norris Cancer Center is located just west of Soto Street in Boyle Heights (east of downtown Los Angeles). Driving out of Norris, I visited my old stomping grounds, "East Los."

I drove south on Soto to 4th Street; I had hoped to see some old familiar haunts as I turned left on 4th Street. But most are gone; the dance halls and bars I used to hang my hat at are no longer there; in their place are fast food joints and mini-malls, but as I approached Rowan St., or is it Ave? However, one of my favorite places as a teenager to dance in the early 1950s still stood: 'Our Lady of Lourdes church. I pulled onto Rowan and parked to look at the church where Connie and I used to dance to the Amenta Brothers and The Counts, among others. We also caught the Hunter Hancock Show there a time or two. I went time-traveling as I sat in the car looking at the church, and I got lost in my yesterday memories. And that was a beautiful thing for one with more yesterdays than tomorrow. 

"Our Lady of Lourdes" church

After reminiscing for a few minutes, I continued traveling east on 4^th St., which soon turned into 3rd Street. Within a few minutes, I was in the heart of East Los Angeles, 3rd St., and Ford Blvd. East Los Angeles is so big that any intersection you happen to be on could be the heart of ELA. A block or two east of Ford Blvd. 3rd St. slopes down a bit; as I was driving down the hill, I was straining my neck, trying to see if one of my favorite eating places, "Lupe's," was still there! There it is! I street-parked and jumped out of my car to get one of their famous burritos. Lupe's is one of those places that doesn't have an inside eating area or a few stools outside on the counter, but they have some of the best Mexican food in ELA. Had a green chili burrito; it was the bomb!! Unfortunately, the lady that owned Lupe's died last year. She also owned Lupe's in Pico-Rivera until she sold it some years back. Nobody can figure out why she named her food stands "Lupe's" since her name was not Lupe; it was Tuchie; I hope I'm spelling it right.

Leaving Lupe's, I continued driving east on 3rd St. to where it ends on Atlantic Ave. From there, still heading east, I took Beverly Blvd. towards Garfield Ave, made a left on Garfield, jumped on the 60 Freeway, and in no time, I was back in 2013

It was a sweet cruise down Memory Lane!

The Lawn

                                                By kiki

I told Connie I was going to be outside watering the front lawn and she started laughing, I asked her what she was laughing about and she replied "what lawn?" She does have a point. Late last year there were some weeds, okay, lots of weeds, growing in the front yard lawn (St. Augustine) So, I went out and bought some weed killer. I sprayed it and I waited for a couple of days for the weeds to die, they didn't, so I went out and bought some more weed killer, sprayed it and again I waited. This time, my wait was not in vain because the weeds died, BUT so did the St. Augustine!!...Now the lawn looks like an Arizona Lawn, brown and dead!! And Connie is still laughing!!!