California
It was the early 1960's. I was there as a kid in second grade. Those memories still purist. It seemed such a magical place. It was winter up north, but not down south. San Francisco, Santa Barbara, Los Angeles. My dad was working a job in Lompoc, CA, for an aircraft firm. We were still up in Seattle, mom and I. It was a Christmas visit to see him. Later, those memories made me fantasize I would move there one day—I did. What an adventure! It was the tale end of the 70's—the disco era. I lived in L.A. What a different world from what I'd known. Summer in the middle of winter—warm, sunny, great restaurants, fast drivers, tons of freeways, people seemed friendly. Those sunsets—golden horizon all a glow, palm trees waving in the sea breeze. Then came the real fires—you could see the hills with their red glow and the smoke. Strange and foreboding. Not far away—but everyone just carried on like it was no big deal. I worked in a huge hospital—wow so many things happening at the same time. It was a great experience for a young man. I was in an upbeat wide open mood—everyday learning something new and different. I am so glad I went there. It's always with me. Inside. I think back on cold and rainy days here in the north—think back to the warm weather, the beaches, the famous people I saw, the fun and adventures I had—I think back and wistfully muse about—that Sunshine State.
