"California Split"

By kiki

In 1974, I received a call from Howie Steindler, the Main Street Gym owner, who said he needed Frankie and Tony, and me the following week at the Olympic Auditorium for a movie shoot. I always wanted to be a movie star, so I said, "we'll be there, Howie."

I don't remember what day of the week, but we showed up at the Olympic auditorium the following week. Howie introduced me to the movie director, whose name I don't recall. The movie's name is "California Split," starring George Segal, Elliott Gould, and Ann Prentiss.

When we got to the Olympic Auditorium, I saw that Joe Medrano, a Jackie McCoy fighter and bantamweight champion to be Albert Davila, was also there. The movie script called for Davila to kayo Medrano in the second round of a fight; I was to play Medrano's chief cornerman. With Medrano on the floor, I was to jump into the ring and take his mouthpiece out. Frankie and Tony were to spar before Albert and Joe's fight, which they did.

We stood around for hours while the director and his people fiddled around. We were finally called into the ring. Just like in a real fight, Davila and Medrano were introduced by Jimmy Lennon. Don't remember who played the referee, but he gave instructions to Albert and Joe. In the first round, Albert and Joe went toe to toe. After the first round, I gave Joe instructions, just like in a real fight. As I was doing so, Joe said, "Frank, I don't want to get kayo" I told him he had to get kayo, that it was in the script, and that it was just a movie, then he said, "but Frank, I've never taken a dive in my life" I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. Joe went along with the script and took a "dive," as he was lying on the floor, I jumped in the ring, and as I went for his mouthpiece, he started laughing so hard he was rolling on the ring floor. I thought he had ruined the scene, but the director said that was fine, that he had gotten what he wanted.

We were paid in cash. I was given $1000.00.  Frankie and Tony got $300.00 each, and I kept $400.00…It was not the first time the manager kept more than the fighters.

Most of our hard-worked scenes wound up on the cutting floor. As a result, my back appears for about one 10th of a second in the movie.

“El Rancho"

     

                      

By kiki

My dad had a Japanese friend who had a farm on Greenwood Blvd., just north of Telegraph Road in South Montebello. Not sure if it was in the Montebello City limits. Soon after the Dec. 7, 1941, bombing of Pearl Harbor, my dad's friend was roundup with his wife and young family and sent to a "War Relocation" camp.

We lived in the Simons Brickyard when my dad's friend was rounded up. I remember Pop's going to say goodbye to his friend the day they would be driven away from the farm. When Pops returned home, he told us we were moving to his friend's farm. I am curious to know what arrangements Pops made or with whom he made them.

I don't remember the year we moved into what we called "El Rancho," but it was during the early days of the war.

I don't know why we called it a "ranch" when it was a farm. My dad's friend, how I wish I knew his name, but I don't, grew black-eyed beans, tomatoes, cabbage, green chilies, lettuce, etc. The house on the farm was pretty good-sized. It was the first time I had had a bedroom to myself. There was a small irrigation channel that ran alongside the house. Don't remember ever jumping in the water, but that channel gave the Rancho character. I vividly remember the winter we lived on the farm when my older late sister, Rachel, and I, all bundled up in our winter clothing, had to walk to school through frozen farmland. After school, I remember picking the black-eye beans for mom to cook and picking up a cabbage that mom would cook; I love cooked cabbage!!

We didn't stay at "El Rancho" long, maybe six months, for some reason. However, a couple of memories are still embedded in my mind from those days we spent at the farm: I remember Rachel and me sitting by the window, looking out of our dark house as searchlights lit up the sky to identify unidentified aircraft…One memory that came to life when I closed my eyes was when we had retired for the night; I would lie in bed in my dark bedroom listening to the big rigs as they roared up and down Telegraph Road. I will never forget those months we lived in "El Rancho."

Strange Sensation

By kiki

This Friday morning, 9/6/13, I woke up with a strange sensation. A sensation that is trying to tell me something; what? I don’t know, but I can feel the vibes. I had felt this sensation before but never this strong. I have not felt good for quite some time now; would that have something to do with this strange feeling? Wish I knew!

 As we reach the twilight of our life journey, lots of strange thoughts enter our minds; here, I am speaking for myself, of course; I know we are not all crazy, so don’t get all excited and start calling me dirty names, even though I know I deserve some from some of you but, save them for when I can’t hear them. (laughing) Then you can call me every dirty name on the book if you want, and if it makes you feel good, please do so.

Why am I writing this? It’s not me writing; it’s that darn strange feeling that is guiding my fingers as they hit the keyboard. Well, this strange feeling and I are just going to need to have a good talk over a bowl of menudo this morning. Maybe I’ll invite my imaginary friends, haven’t talked to them in quite some time. You should have seen the looks Connie gave me when she overheard me auguring with those crazy dudes; I haven’t talked to them since. So I think if I treat my invisible friends to some menudo, they’ll help me kick Mr. Strange Sensation’s butt.

Have a great Friday, people!!

"Tales From Bradley's Nite Club"

                          "The Night Bullets Flew at Bradley's"
  
By kiki

 One night back in the late '50s, I and some friends were at Bradley's Nite Club on Whittier Blvd in East Los Angeles, having drinks and listening to live music. As couples were swaying to the slow romantic music, a guy walked in and went straight to a couple dancing cheek to cheek. He yanked the girl away from her dancing partner's arms, pulled a gun, and proceeded to shoot the dancing fool. As we drove for cover under the tables, we noticed the dancing fool looking at his right hand, which was bleeding. But he was not going to go down easy. Bleeding as he was, he grabbed the gun away from the shooter and shot him in the arm; he then dropped the weapon on the dance floor. Now the first shooter noticed he, too, was bleeding. They both looked at each other, then bolted to the front door leaving the girl and gun on the dance floor. We flew too, after them, to see what they were going to do next or where they were going. They ran, we ran! Half a block west to the corner of Whittier Blvd. and Arizona Ave. They turned south on Arizona, ran across the avenue, and entered the Angelus Emergency Hospital! With the cowboys having their wounds attended to, we went back to Bradley's to find the girl dancing with some other fool. 

                              
                                                 Part II

                                           "Chingaderas"

A friend, Coy, and I were at Bradley's Nite Club on Whittier Blvd in East Los Angeles one winter night circa 1960. We were sitting at a table nursing our drinks because we were broke. And sitting at the following table was a couple that seemed madly in love. Around midnight a guy walked in and made a beeline to the couple's table; he exchanged words with the woman, words her Lover didn't take kindly to. The Lover then jumped up and said something to the guy; the guy then told the guy who was madly in love, "that's my wife you're with, but sit down, Sancho, I don't fight over chingadera's" (trash). At that, people that overheard him call his wife a "chingadera" stood up and gave him a standing ovation. Coy and I were standing up too, and I thought I heard Coy saying, "hear, hear!"

Labor Day weekend 2013

                                   

                              (At the steps of my old high school)

By kiki

Sunday of the 2013 Labor Day weekend, I said to Connie, "Babe, let’s get out of the house" She wanted to know where we were going. So I told her, "where ever the car takes us," She said, okay.

As we were getting into the car, she told me, "drive nice, or I'm getting off."

We had not traveled more than two blocks when she started with her passenger seat driving "watch out for that car!" damn! The car was a block away!!

I then told Connie, "listen, you keep up with your passenger seat driving, I'm going to jump out of the car while it's moving, then you can jump onto the driver’s seat and drive" that was the end of her passenger seat driving.

 (In the late 1940s, this old building used to be a Mom and Pops store. The owners used to show movies one night a week at the store. My paternal grandparents, Grandma Lupe and Grandpa Francisco took my older sister, Rachel, and me to see the movies.)

We drove to Pico, Montebello, Simons, East Los Angeles, back to Montebello, where we stopped and had Connie's car washed at one of those funeral fundraisers.

                            
                     (Connie’s car getting washed at a funeral fundraiser)

We stopped at my old high school, Montebello High School, and the old swimming hole...Shot pictures at most of our stops

                               (The Montebello swimming hole)

                             
(Connie’s scarfing on a great chicharrón burrito at Pico Park)

 Our second to last stop was at Vargas's for two of their great chicharrón burritos.

(Had I see this hole in the wall bar just around the corner from Vargas’s before we scarfed up the chicharrón burritos at Pico Park, you can bet the outhouse we would have scarfed up the burritos there with a couple of cold ones)

Our last stop was at Sunset Liquor for a six-pack of Coors beer. Coors brought back the small bottles.