So on Tuesday at the last minute, I decided to take the rest of the week off. No particular reason but Barbara was planning to go back to work on Monday after having the summer off. This is just a reminder that spontaneous plans often turn out great.
After staying up late watching TV on Tuesday and with no real plans to speak of, we slept in, thanks partly to the room darkening curtains I had installed the week prior. We had talked about going to Santa Barbara for the day, but nothing was set in stone. We finally left the house about 10:30 and headed to Panera’s for a quick and simple breakfast. Barb loves the ocean so we decided to head towards Santa Barbara, not really sure we would make it but not caring either.
After driving for about an hour and having a great time listening to music from my iPhone we drove past the Camarillo Outlets. Since I’m not much of a shopper much like the other 3 billion men in the world I just kept driving but I asked Barb if she wanted to stop for a bit, duh! So we doubled back and browsed through a few stores, picking up a few things “we needed” but it was fun just being together.
An hour and a half later we continued our drive. Since we had only had a very small breakfast, I started getting hungry – again, (this by the way is a constant problem). I knew of a small seafood place at the harbor in Ventura, so we decided to satisfy those deadly hunger pangs with a platter of halibut, shrimp, scallops & calamari along with the ever present fries. They were great!
It is now like 3:30 in the afternoon and we’re still 40 miles from our destination, but being the troopers that we are, we pressed forward. Barb wants to see the water so we head to the pier. — I love Santa Barbara pier, mostly because it reminds me of the week I spent in Santa Barbara when I was about 13. My brother and I spent it with my 15 year old cousin and we spent part of it fishing off that pier catching God know what. But for a 13 year old it was just a great time. – So we walked up and down the pier catching glimpses of “the dinner” being caught by the multitude of 12 & 60 year old “boys.” It was really quite a nice afternoon for it.
Afterwards we head up State Street which is the “Westwood” of Santa Barbara, tons of shops and eateries line both sides of the street. We had no particular place to go, but since we spotted a Ben & Jerry’s we knew it deserved a stop, so I obliged. Sometimes it’s fun to walk into stores with no intension of buying anything and just look at all the stuff they are trying to “unload” on us. Come on, do I really need a wine aerator, really? Or a stick that looks like a “T” to turn over my crepes? No offense to those of you who do, lol.
We decided to start heading back, but instead of jumping on the freeway, I decided to drive through some back streets. As we are driving we stumble on this small park. Actually it was a public garden; Alice Keck Park Memorial Gardens, it was really, really nice. I highly recommend it for a nice quiet stroll. It’s not an old park, less than 30 years old, but was designed very well. Barb and I spent about an hour there, - young men, listen up, plan a picnic and take your girl there and you’ll steal half her heart in one date, listen to me, don’t waste your time and money on a movie, trust me! In any case, there were about a dozen people under a large tree and they all had guitars or violins, and they were just having a grand time playing this music that reminded me of the type of music played around the 1860’s.
By now it is getting late, close to 7:30, so reluctantly we head back, as we are approaching downtown Los Angeles, that constant problem, I was telling you about earlier hit me again. So I mentioned to Barbara about stopping in East L.A. and getting some “street tacos” I mean the kind that are sold on a sidewalk. Now I know some of you non East L.A. type are thinking, “you got to be kidding” no I’m not, let me take you one day, be brave. –This brings to mind of the time about 7 or 8 years ago when a group from our church went to Tacate, Mexico to do some humanitarian work. I was one of a few if not the only Latino amongst the predominately Anglo group. I love those brothers, but come on, live a little. After our work we all start heading back across the border with plans to eat at Carls Jr. Are you kidding me! As we are caravanning to the border crossing, I ditched the group with plans to meet them in an hour or so. I take my two kids who were with me and make a dash for a local taco stand. I’m telling you, YOU DO NOT GO TO MEXICO AND NOT STOPAT A TACO STAND it is just plain wrong! It’s like going to Italy and eating only what you cook and heading to dominos when you get back to the U.S. Now, I will say you do need to know how to pick the right stand, but that’s easy, just look for a clean one with lot’s of people. – Any way getting back to the one in East L.A., I pulled up to a particular one, I’ve frequented before, it is set up in front of a small house on Indiana and the 5 FWY. It’s always there, you walk up tell them what kind and how many and literally one minute later you are eating. After standing there and polishing off a few (they have no places to sit, you eat standing up) and Barb having her fill you tell the 13 year old cashier, (I think, he is the only one who speaks English) how many you had and he quickly tells you how much. Simple, fast and tasty. With that we jump in our car and head back home fully satisfied with a new string of memories.
So thus ended a most perfect day. It reminded me of the movie, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, only this was a whole lot more fun, particularly because Ferris, didn’t have my Barbie to share it with and I did!
For those of you unfamiliar with downtown Los Angeles, this is where immigrants set up shop, where the poor sell fruit and tacos from ice chests. This is where people who have $20 set aside for Christmas come and buy their children toys. This is where you can buy a bag of bruised fruit for a dollar or two. This is also a place where people sleep on sidewalks, where people talk to themselves and preachers yell from street corners of the coming apocalypse. As I walk, I must move out of the way of people who seem to have no place to go and yet are in a hurry to get there. Store owners offer me cheap rubber band like bracelets if I will enter their store. Other tell me I need a suit and they have just the one that I require. If I need a sweater vest it can be had for as little as 99 cents yet if I fancy some roasted corn I’ll need $1.50.
My eyes are filled with sights. I see mothers pushing strollers filled with children and fruit, old ladies with clothes they’ve had for at least 30 years. I see struggles and hardship. I see people who seem to have very little being lured by merchants wanting to take the little they do have. I see trash that has become part of the landscape and I smell urine. I see drunkards asleep right on the sidewalk as people maneuver around them without a concern. I see police walking and driving, knowing that they can only do so much or worse yet, immune and indifferent from years of conditioning.
I love walking in this area. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t do it for entertainment as this is not at all entertaining. It is sad, it is painful, and it is sometimes hard to watch. But I do see life through my walks. It gives me perspective, it give me gratitude for my home, for my family and even for the simple things like my socks. It causes me to think about life’s choices, about parents choices, about children born in broken homes. It also teaches me about being judgmental and pious making me realize that “there but by the grace of God, go I”.