"When I Was Young"

When I was a kid, we moved from San Francisco, did a couple years in the Washington D.C. Area while my Stepfather was at The United Sates Naval Academy and then, to some Hell Hole of non-descript Ranch Style Tract Houses, people, cars, behaviors and speech patterns that were all very foreign to my Citified ears and eyes. To be blunt: "I hated the place." Southern California is for Hillbillies that had either moved there during the Depression or moved there to work in the Defense Industries or, were in the Military and just "stayed" after they got out. My Stepfather was also a Navy Guy, a musician. His folks were from Arkansas or some shit. My genetic Father was from Nebraska but, had grown up in Lost Angel-ness. Went to and graduated from Hollywood High School even. My Mom's Family were the San Franciscans. I'm Fourth Generation. I don't identify with being anything but a San Franciscan or, "Northern Californian." As far as I'm able to discern, REAL California begins somewhere around Santa Barbara and continues into Oregon.

I live in a "Town" of about 25,000 people on the Lost Coast (do your homework) now. That number is non-representative of just how many people are "Year-Round-Residents." There are allot of outlying Communities and 'Burghs, Villages and Spit-And-Miss-Its'. Combine them with the couple of Colleges in the general area and you come in closer to 100,000 people that use the area. An eclectic mix of people from not only All Over California but, All Over The World. I'm not "In Town, Proper." A few blocks into The County, which means we get: Sheriffs instead of City Cops (a good thing), more single family centered houses, wider streets and a more relaxed pace, in general. You "know"the people in your neighborhood, even if only by face and to wave "Good Day" or nod familiarly to.

The building I live in was constructed, by some guy that worked at one of the local lumber (Redwood) mills that flourished into the 1970's-'80's. My Building was built the same year I was born. I'm 60. It was also: Built entirely from flat stacked and nailed 2"x4" Oak "Stringers", the boards that stabilize a load of finished lumber on a truck trailer. The Guy That Built The Building just saved 'em up until he had enough to build a two-story Apartment Building and a two-story House. No insulation in the walls, anywhere. Solid as a brick shit house and "flexible" in Earthquakes. Really hard to drive a nail or screw into if you're hanging a picture or what-have-ye. There are many Victorian Houses in this Town. Most of them are Redwood.

My Grandparents' Home in San Francisco was framed with Redwood, floored in hardwoods and wire-lathed and plastered on the outside.The House I Was Young In. 46th Avenue and Vicente Street, just North of The San Francisco Zoo, Fleishhacker Pool (The largest, outdoor, heated, salt water pool in the world, at the time. Training for the '36 Olympics, Jesse Owens vs. Mad Adolf's Superhumans, were held in that pool. I learned to swim there.) Lake Merced and Harding Park both next to The Zoo. The Zoo was free when I lived there. Now, it costs $17.00 or something and the animals all look like they're being fed 100% Prison Loaf. It's a shadow of its' former glory. My Buddy, Leo The Lion, has passed on. No Elephants, Rhino's or large African Ungulates.

I used to wake up to the sounds of Howler Monkeys every morning. Fog, the sound and smell of the Pacific Ocean and Howler Monkeys. Neat-O! Everything's weird with a beard there now. Iron gates at the top of staircases where nobody even bothered to lock their doors When I Was Young, etc., etc..
   
It's the same everywhere on the Coast, North of San Francisco. There were HUGE salmon runs as well. They're gone. Along with the REALLY BIG trees. First Growth? Forget it. Even Redwood National Park is mostly Second Growth. I've personally wrapped my arms around a 350' Redwood and gave it a big kiss. They used to think That Tree was the largest one in the forest. Since, they've found taller ones, elsewhere. There are "pockets" of 200'-250' Redwoods here and there around Town. Most however, are Pygmy Redwoods. Which, still reach a rather impressive height after a couple hundred years. I digress...

I have a "thing" for Trees and Forests, the animals in them and around them. Unexpectedly having a conversation with some Human Being else that I may chance upon while in them. You get the picture.

When I first started tapping away at my keyboard this morning, I thought I was going to tell a Firesign Theatre anecdote, for starters. I may as well get it over with... The Guys used to do a quick routine about "Ersatz Brothers' Coffee, The REAL ONE." (Radio Advert Style) "Ersatz" refers to anything which is a substitute for "The Real Thing." It's Yiddish. During WW2, the one where we (Americans, English, etc.) kicked the shit out of the Nazis, Hirohito that Greaser/Poseur, Mussolini. The French surrendered in about three weeks or something and weren't really our Allies. Think "Vichy," here. They just didn't want to get the shit bombed out of themselves. (Know what a French Army Knife looks like? It's got a corkscrew and a white flag in it for tools.) A wonderful WW2 joke, I think.

Anyway, "Ersatz." As I'm brewing up some Ethiopian Pea Berry Dark Roast this morning, I realize that I also bought a can of "Regular Issue American Coffee" this month. Conundrum. Have the Good Stuff on Sunday or the Feeble, "Ersatz Blend" that couldn't fight it's way out of a wet paper coffee bag? I opted for the Ethiopian and a warmed Apple Fritter with butter. I also remembered the Firesign Theatre riff, simultaneously. Memory, in my case, is a strange and wonderful thing.

I never thought I'd be writing about this stuff, fifty years or so After The Fact:

Peace, Love and Apple Fritters,
-Doc