Blog Neglect

I've missed writing in the Blog the last few weeks, a very confusing time with lots of work, fatigue and an 80th birthday and the aftermath of that. At night when I usually write it just hasn't been possible to focus well. Meanwhile I've accumulated a lot of subject matter to deal with, and some of that will not be touched until Fall or Winter. Things set me off, eg. a book on the bumpersticker phenomena: "If ignorance is bliss why aren't more people happy?"

Have I mentioned the Vatos sunglasses earlier (so essential this summer)? They have proven to be a pair that have not been damaged or lost ... so far; got them cheap at Walgreens, made in China, of course. When I asked my son what the word meant he said: "little street criminal," "hoodlum." Which took me back to an earlier time when I was obliged to mix it up with young street people in L.A., called "pachucos" in those days (forties).

Our rival playground for sports was Echo Park, the teams there dominated by Spanish speaking teenagers, who were backed up at times by the equivalent of vatos. We went to play the second, return game of football there, we won the first on our "home turf." It was a rough game, for supposedly "touch football," officiating there definitely in their favor. At halftime one of our payers got his face pushed into the water fountain hardware, he finished the second half bleeding steadily and the game definitely got rougher. The 12 to 12 tie didn't give anyone any satisfaction

On our walk back along the lake (really an oversized pond) to the streetcar we found ourselves ambushed by a gang of hoodlums. They rushed out of some bushes, some swinging razor blades on strings, others banging on us with fence pickets they had collected, and trying to force us into the water. They didn't outnumber us by much and we were able to fight our way out and run for Sunset Blvd. Our fellow passengers were somewhat surprised at our condition, and I was forced to take a clandestine shower and dispose of some of my (bloody) clothes before my Mother could ask embarrassing questions. To this day if I have any prejudices to speak of, they are of Latino/Spanish speaking teenagers.