Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

I have read many novels over the years and the majority of them have had some sort of influence on me in one way or another.  Without question, the one book that influenced me the most is James Joyce's A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.

I remember when I read the book for a literature class years ago that is was unlike anything I have ever read before.  The way the story is told changes with changes the main character experiences.  I don't know if I can even describe why I even enjoyed it.  It wasn't so much about what the novel was about; it was more about the incredible way Joyce told the story.  It was how reading the book made me feel about myself.

The book describes the life of Stephen Dedalus a fictional alter-ego of Joyce himself.  The book takes place in Ireland during the turn of the twentieth century.  The novel tells how Dedalus starts to question the conventions of his Irish Catholic background and how those conventions put restrictions on his life.

To me, the book is about what it takes to become your own person.  Joyce is saying that the only way for a person to be truly free is that they must remove ties to family, church and state.  When I first realized that was what the book was about it initially seemed overly harsh.  The more I though about it; the more I realized that may be the most honest thing I have ever read.  To me the book is about you can choose how much influence you let others have over you.  Be that your family, church or your country.  You choose how much or how little.   In my opinion that is a very powerful message.

My Father-in-Law

This post is going to be about my father-in-law Lorenzo.  The reason I'm writing about my father-in-law is because I think his story is unique and very interesting.

Lorenzo was born in the Philippines in 1925.  He is currently eighty six years old.  He is from Dagupan City which is located north of Manila in the Pangasinan province.  He currently lives in Lakewood California.

Since he was born in 1925 that means he lived in the Philippines during World War II.  Japanese soldiers occupied the Philippines from 1942 to 1945.  That means Lorenzo was seventeen to twenty years old during the Japanese occupation.  I can't help to wonder what that must have been like.  When I have asked him about it he said you had to be very careful.  You had to make sure you were never in the wrong place and wrong time.  That just going to the market could be a very dangerous affair.  For a period of time he had a strong hatred for the Japanese people.  That has changed over the years as he has gotten older after the realization that the soldiers occupying his home did not represent the civilian population of Japan.

After World War II he joined the U.S. Navy, young men from the Philippines were allowed to enlist in the U.S. military after the war.  That was how he was able to become a U.S. citizen.  He served for over twenty years.

After retiring from the Navy in the early 60's he started a different career, actually two different careers.  He worked at McDonald Douglas, which was bought out by Boeing, and at California State University of Long Beach.  He worked those two full time jobs for over twenty years.  That's right, twenty years with an eighty hour work week.  Several years before he retired from those careers is when I met his daughter.

I don't think it would be fair to say that initially I was his favorite person in the world.  As I remember it, I don't think he liked me at all.  That is a whole other story in itself.  I have been married to his daughter for twenty six years and have known her for over thirty six.  I have known Lorenzo for the bulk of those years.  It wasn't easy for me in the early years.  Man was he strict.  We get along very well now.  Let's just say I've put in my time.

I have never met anyone who worked so hard without complaint for the benefit of his family.  I have only deep respect for him and can't wait to visit him again and listen to another story.

"Stand Your Ground" is a License to KIll

I find the recent news from Florida concerning the death of Trayvon Martin very disturbing.  The "Stand Your Ground" law in Florida in simple terms expands the parameters of what is considered self-defense.  The law states that a citizen has the right to use deadly force if they "reasonably believe" they are in danger.  The law also states that a citizen does not have a duty to retreat from any possible dangerous situation and has the right to stand his or her ground.

In my opinion that law made George Zimmerman feel confident to use deadly force without constraint against Trayvon Martin.    Zimmeran has made forty six 911 calls over the last six years reporting different situations many which included "suspicious" black men.  He aspires to be a police officer.  The law itself creates an environment that encourages people, like Zimmerman, to use deadly force, and be a fantasy police officer without the restrictions and rules that law enforcement professionals are required to operate under.  Policemen have to answer for every bullet they fire while on duty.

Let's look at the facts.  The Florida law took effect in 2005.  Since 2005 over twenty states have adopted similar laws.  In Florida, homicides categorized as justifiable have nearly tripled since the law has been enacted.    In Florida there are eighteen cases resulting in the death of an "aggressor" were no arrests were made because there were no witnesses.  The Florida law has been used by drug dealers and other criminals to eliminate rivals.  Representative Baxley, who authored the bill, claims that there have been a decrease in violent crimes in Florida since the law went into effect.  That is true, but it is also true that those rates were dropping before 2005 as well and apparently are not a result of the "Stand Your Ground" law.

Let's look at recent developments in the Trayvon Martin case.  Geraldo Rivera on Fox News stated that wearing a hoodie resulted in the incident taking Trayon's life.  Really, Geraldo; that is one of most ridiculous things I have ever heard.  I guess, the parents of Trayvon are at fault because they dressed him in a hoodie.  Rivera's comments triggered an overwhelming angry response and he has since apologized for his language but not the substance of his advice.  Information about Trayon being suspended three times from school has been released.  I still don't see the point in the stories about Trayvon's suspensions.  Is the argument that bad behavior in high school is a capital offense in Florida?  How does that justify the killing?  It doesn't matter if he was suspended in this case.  If he is running for class president, then we'll talk.

Joe Oliver, a friend of George Zimmerman, has been making the rounds on news talk shows defending his friend.  He states that Zimmeran was attacked by Trayon after losing track of him while he returned to his SUV.  He also claims Zimmerman had a broken nose and lacerations on the back of his head as a result of that alleged attack.  I personally don't believe that version of the story and here is why:  George Zimmeran weighs 200 pounds, Trayvon weighs 140; do you believe a 17 year old boy would attack a 200 pound man or would he just run away?  There is one major part of this story that is being missed; doesn't that very same "Stand Your Ground" law also apply to Trayvon Martin?  Did he not also have the right under the law to defend himself?

The Sanford Police after arriving at the scene of Trayvon Martin's death took Zimmeran's statement.  Zimmerman claimed that Martin punched him the nose which knocked him down.  Then, according to Zimmerman, Martin got on top him and start banging his head against the sidewalk.  As a result of Zimmerman's statement the police stated there was no probable cause for an arrest.  So he was released.  Trayvon Martin is dead so there is no one to dispute Zimmerman's claims.  We may never really learn what the actual truth is in regard to this unfortunate exchange between Martin and Zimmerman.  Regardless of what the details of the confrontation between Martin and Zimmerman really are, one fact remains:  The Florida law itself created the environment that made all of these tragic consequences possible.

I feel that these "Stand Your Ground" laws in Florida and other states are a recipe for disaster.  They create more violence then they prevent.  Bottom line; they are not necessary.  When Baxley, the author of the Florida law, was asked to name one case where a person defending themselves was charged with a crime, he could not.  I believe these laws create an environment that encourages violence.  As it is now, if you want to legally commit murder in Florida all you  have do is ensure there are no witnesses.  Dead men tell no tales.  The only person who can dispute your claim of self-defense is your victim.

Trayon Martin was suspended from high school 3 times and George Zimmeran was previously arrested for domestic violence, resisting an officer with violence which was lowered to resisting an officer without violence.  All of Zimmerman's cases were closed with no charges.  How can a person with a violent past get a concealed weapons permit to carry a 9mm handgun?  Maybe Robert Zimmerman can answer that question.  Who is Robert Zimmerman?  He's George's father, a retired Orange County magistrate judge.

Time to Move On

I am going to close my series of posts about stories of me living on military bases.  I just want to explore other subjects before the end of the semester.  What those subjects are going to be, I haven't quite figured out yet.

My life as a military brat has definitely had an impact on what kind of person I turned out to be.  When I attended my daughters' high school graduations it made me think what it would have been like to be in school at the same place and with the same group of people.  How would I be different?  There is no way to really know for sure. To be clear, I don't say that with regret.  I just say that with a sense of curiosity.

I learned a lot about people living in different parts of the world and the United States.  Most of what I learned is good, but not all of it.  One of the most amazing learning experiences I had was how very different people are within the United States itself.  Living in St. Louis is completely unlike living in Los Angeles.  Americans living in the North compared to the South, for example.  The United States has such varied cultural and regional diversity.  There are places in the U.S. that I have lived that I would have sworn I was in another country.

I also learned that Americans are too isolated from the rest of the world.  When I lived in Spain the people that lived there were not afraid to embrace and share their lives with you.  Most American would not be comfortable sharing their lives with people from other countries.  I don't think we are mean and unfriendly; I think we tend to fear what we don't know.  That fear influences how we treat others and it isn't one of our best qualities.  My comments are not meant to unfairly judge Americans.  I just wish we played a larger role in the world community.  Please just think about it.

Thanks for your indulgence.  Good bye for now.

San Onofre Beach

One of my favorite memories of living on Camp Pendelton was my time spent at San Onofre beach.  It was my last two years of high school and I loved hanging out at the beach.

San Onofre beach was within walking distance of my house and I would go pretty much everyday.  The nice thing about San Onofre beach was that it was on the base.  The civilian public did not have access, so we had the whole beach to ourselves.  My family lived in a trailer on the beach for two weeks while we waited for housing to become available.  If it was up to me; I would still be living in that trailer.

After we got housing, I would walk down to the beach whenever I wanted.  I would hang out with my friends and go boogy boarding or body surfing.  Boogy boarding is a poor man's version of surfing.  You use a wide board about three feet long that you lay down on instead of standing up like you would on a surfboard.  A lot easier to master than a surfboard and a lot cheaper.

It was like having a rollercoaster ride whenever you wanted for free.  You would occasionally wipe out, which could hurt.  The ocean is very powerful and isn't afraid to remind you of that.

Frequently, I think about the times I spent on that beach and I miss the ocean.  I enjoy living where I do now, but sometimes the ocean calls to me and it is difficult not to answer.

Bye for now.

Blog Assignment: Quote Garden

"Fear makes strangers of people who would be friends"  ~Shirley Maclaine


I like this quote because I feel it gets to the core of the problems of the world.  We fear what is unknown, so in turn instead of acknowledging that fear we feel, we hate instead.  Why, it is easier to admit to hate than it is to fear.  Recognizing your fear implies weakness.  We fear that we may be wrong.  We just need to learn to trust that we all face the same challenges.  That there are not really any differences when you get down to what we all consider is important.  I am going to finish with a quotation from my hero that supports the above quotation:  "All You Need is Love" ~ John Lennon.

The One That Dropped Away: Fish Tale III

This fishing story takes place at Lake O'Neil on Camp Pendleton.  It is the largest lake on base, right next to the military hospital.  This day my brother, Bryan, and I drove out to Lake O'Neil to go fishing, which we did on a regular basis.  We would often rent a canoe for the whole day and use that to fish from.

We paddled out to the far side of the lake where all the cattails and reeds were located.  This was one of our favorite spots.  I was the first to cast.  As soon as my plastic worm touched the water I had a big bite.  When I set the hook I could tell it was a large fish.  I fought the fish for a few minutes before pulling it into the canoe.  It was a big largemouth bass, about six pounds.  The biggest fish I had ever caught up to that point.

I began to put the monster on the stringer when I heard Bryan say "let me put him on the stringer."  I replied with "no way are you even touching this fish".  He kept pestering me until I finally agreed.  I carefully handed him my trophy.  Let me take a moment to explain about the stringer.  It was one of those with metal hoops that kind of works like large safety pins without the sharp point on the end.  As I turned to grabbed my paddle I heard a metallic "ping" and a loud sickening "SPLASH".  So I asked "was that my fish"?  No reply.  I turned toward him and could tell by his demeanor that he had indeed dropped my prize fish into the lake.  I considered the possibility of throwing him in the lake so he could chase down my fish.  After careful thought, realizing I couldn't justify my actions to my mother, I decided not to throw him in after all.  I instead told him it was alright we would just get another one.  We just enjoyed the rest of the day.  The truth of the matter is simply this; I can always catch another fish but I really don't know how to catch another brother.

Bye for now.

Fish Bandit: Fish Tale II

In my last post I described that are three locations on Camp Pendleton to go fishing.  This story revolves around Casey Springs.

Casey Springs is located up in the high country of Camp Pendleton.  It is a set of natural springs set on top of hilly plateau.  Bryan and I had a friend we would occasionally fish with whose name is Mike.  On this day, Mike's Dad, drove the four of us up the dirt road to go fishing at Casey Springs.

Casey Springs was known for being a good spot for Largemouth Bass.  We were not disappointed.  We were doing pretty good.  Casey Springs was a perfect place to go fishing, except for one thing.  Casey Springs was home to a notorious fish bandit.  A large golden eagle called Casey Springs home.  He would perch in this old dead tree right next to the fishing hole and wait for an unsuspecting fisherman to make a mistake.

If you didn't put your stringer of fish deep enough in the water, he would swoop down and take your whole stringer of fish.  He would then sit in that old tree and eat your fish right in front of you almost daring you to try to get them back.  The eagle was smart he would wait until the stringer was full.  Well Mike's Dad made that mistake the eagle was waiting for.  He dropped down from his perch and grabbed our whole stringer of fish with his talons.  He then flew back into that tree with his prize and proceeded to eat our, I mean his, fish right in front of us without any guilt what so ever.  Several empty stringers decorated that old dead tree like trophies.  They were a testament to his ability as a fish bandit.

You might wonder how a bird could bully four men so easily, not all of us were grown men but you get the point.  Golden eagles are large.  Golden eagles have a sharp beak and large talons.  He was very intimidating.  There was no way I was going to mess with that bird, especially over a stringer of fish and besides he was obviously the better fisherman.

Fishing Under Fire: Fish Tale I

My younger brother, Bryan, and I would regularly go fishing when we lived on Camp Pendleton.  Bryan is two years younger than me and we did and do a lot of things together.  Camp Pendleton had basically three places you could go to fish:  Lake O'Neil by the military hospital, Casey Springs up in the high country, or Pulgas Lake.  This story is going to take place at Pulgas Lake.

When we went fishing at Pulgas Lake is was necessary to call first to verify that the Marines weren't playing War that day.  You could call the command center and they would tell if the area was closed due to training exercises.  On this day, however, nobody answered the phone.  They always said yes before, so we decided to go anyway.  We got on bikes with fishing gear in tow and headed out to Lake Pulgas which was located about five miles down the road.

It was a nice day.  When we arrived at the lake we were pleasantly surprised to find we had the whole lake to ourselves.  Nice, we could fish any spot we wanted to.  Well, we fished for about half an hour, before we started hearing....."boom".....""boom".....and finally..... "BOOM".  Then we were treated to a light show just a few feet above our heads.  Which, to find out later were live tracer rounds.

A few moments later a Military Police truck came rushing down to where we fishing.  They seemed shocked to see us there for some reason.  We quickly got loaded in the back of the truck with our bikes and brought home.  The MPs dropped us off and talked to our Mom for a few minutes about our fishing adventure.  Looking back I am always amazed how calm my Mom could be no matter what my brother and I did and we did a lot.  I am not saying she wasn't mad, just calm considered we were just fishing in a firing zone.

Next, another fishing story.

Camp Pendleton

I am going to move my story now to the times I lived on Camp Pendleton.  I lived on this Marine base on three separate occasions.  First time was when I was only three, second time I was like eleven to twelve years old and finally the third time I was seventeen to eighteen or so.

Camp Pendleton is located half way between Los Angeles and San Diego in southern California.  Southern California with it nice weather and beaches.  I miss the ocean.  It is a large base and represents what southern California looked like before all the development.  Long stretches of untouched beaches and a haven for protected wildlife.

Housing was very nice especially the last time I lived there.  The base is broken down into different areas like Mainside, Los Pulgas, and San Onofre for example.  When I was in my last year of high school we lived at San Onofre.  My bedroom window had an incredible view of the ocean and a not so incredible view of the San Onofre Nuclear Plant. 

It was a very nice place to live.  It was only a mile from the San Clemente which is beautiful beach community.  San Clemente is where I worked my first job.  It is also home to my high school.  Go Tritons!  To be honest, we couldn't win a basketball or football game.  We could, however, win a water polo game or a surfing contest.  Yes, surfing was a sport at my high school.  That is the reason I was outstanding at PE.  I took swimming the whole time I went to school here, which was just me hanging out at the pool.  It is a beach town after all, I was trying to fit in.

View of San Clemente from the pier

In future posts I will get into some stories about my time at Camp Pendleton.  Bye for now.

Adios, Espana

We lived in Spain for three years.  I would have to say my stay there is without question one of my more memorable adventures.  The people I met living there are some the nicest people I have met anywhere.  Many of them had no money or wealth compared to us, but were willing to give you their goat or share their meal with you even when they couldn't afford to.  I will always remember them fondly and wonder to this day if they are doing well.

I believed I mentioned in an earlier post that we had no television the whole time we lived in Spain.  We missed some important events back home in the United States while overseas:  Dr. Martin Luther King's and Robert Kennedy's assassinations, the Moon landing and the anti-war protests.  We were living in this little bubble that was outside the events happening in the States.

So, when we did come back home in 1971 it felt weird.  When you get back, your parents go through customs so they put the children in this big room with a television.  Oh my God....that's a TV, I almost forgot what they looked like.  I remember this like it was yesterday, my first reunion with TV was with a McDonalds commercial.  I remember thinking this United States is a very strange place.  It really is a hard thing to try to explain.  Let's put it this way, when people from other countries don't quite understand the United States I'm totally empathic to that feeling.  It's like visiting some place where you used to live or went to school.  It looks familiar but it doesn't feel like you belong there.  It was like we stayed still in time and the rest of world went ahead without us.  Feeling like an alien passed after a few weeks.  It was amazing how it is possible to feel like a stranger in your own land.

I have decided to move on, this will be my last post on living in Spain.  Next stop....California.

Sevilla

About 60 miles north of Rota was the wonderful city of Sevilla (or Seville in English).  We took the train from Rota to Sevilla when we visited.

One of all time favorite memories of my time in Spain was when we visited the city of Sevilla.  English says it as Seville, but I'm used to the Spanish version which is Sevilla and it sounds better that way to me.  Sevilla was full of towers, massive cathedrals and art.  It is one of the most beautiful cities I have ever been to.

Above is the Seville Cathedral third largest church in Europe.  The interior of the cathedral is massive.  There is a lot of artwork on display.  The Giralda Tower is in the background to the right.  It was constructed by the Moors, completed in 1196 and took twelve years to build.  I climbed the tower, no stairs just one ramp winding all the way to the top.  It took awhile to get to the top.

Above is inside the cathedral.  The Tomb of Christopher Columbus.

This is Torre Del Oro, or the Gold Tower, a twelve sided tower built by the Moors along side the river in the 13th century to prevent christian invaders from attacking the city.

As the photo above shows I wasn't kidding in an earlier post about fruit trees being very common.  This shows how it looked just walking around.  I hope you get some idea of what great place this is to visit.  I hope you enjoy the photos.

Adios, for now.

Going to the Rock

My family on one occasion while living in Spain had an opportunity to visit the Rock of Gibraltar.  The Rock is actually a United Kingdom territory, a little British world all on its own in the middle of Spain.  It was a very interesting place British citizens mixed in with the local population.

The coolest thing about visiting the Rock of Gibraltar is that this is the location of the Strait of Gibraltar.  At this location Morocco is only 8.9 miles across the sea, so from here while standing in Europe you can see Africa, very clearly.  I still remember that the view of Africa made the world not seem such a large imposing place to a young boy.  It made me feel connected in some way.  It was profound.

Our visit here is still one of my favorite memories of things I was fortunate enough to do.

Adios, for now.

Going To The Market

One of my favorite things to do when I lived in Spain was to go the community market in Rota.  A couple times a month my parents would take us all into Rota to shop at the market.  The market building was a large building with two stories.The market there was not to be confused with an American supermarket.  There were dozens of vendors selling all kinds of different food items and some of them were still alive.

Basically on the lower level is where all the meat and fish would be sold.  Upstairs was reserved for fruits and vegetables.  Each level has its own unique aroma.  The upper level was much more pleasant, as far as your nose was concerned, than the lower level.  I broke it down to downstairs was a treat for your eyes; upstairs a treat for your nose.

The lower level sold meat and seafood.  You would see large sharks and tuna just laying there.  Rota was a coastal community so fishing was an important industry there.  Those fish were some of largest I've ever seen.  To be truthful it was very impressive.  There was also chickens, pigs and goats for example.  If you wanted a chicken, you got a chicken.  It was up to you kill it if you wanted hot wings that evening.

Upstairs was loaded with all kinds of fruits and vegetables.  There were oranges, peaches, figs pomegranates, and dates.  Dates come from a variety of palm trees and those palm trees were very common in southern Spain.  The photo above is a date palm.  Sunflower seeds were also very common.  You could buy a large bag of sunflower seeds for about five cents.

The best thing about the market it made shopping an adventure.  Where else could you see a ten foot shark in all its glory a foot in front of you?  Much more exciting than a can of tuna at the supermarket you normally would see.

Adios for now.

My First Teachers (And Favorite)

My very first time I got to attend school was while I living in Spain on a military base.  They were known back then as DOD schools, or Department of Defense schools. As far as I know going to a DOD school isn't really any different then attending normal grade school back home in the United States.

I cannot remember the names of most of my teachers from third grade and up but, remarkably I can easily recall my first two teachers without any effort what so ever; Mrs Barnes was my first grade teacher and Mrs. Link was my teacher for second grade.  Maybe my ability to remember their names after so many years isn't that remarkable after all.  They represented, at least to me, the prototypical idea of what a teacher should be.  I don't know if my memories paint too perfect of a picture of their qualities or they truly were awesome teachers.  I'm leaning to the latter.

Mrs. Barnes had a way of always knowing if you were okay and didn't let anything faze her resolve.  She never got upset and made you feel like you could do anything.  She instilled us with confidence and pride.  I always looked forward to going to school because of her.  We were lucky.

My favorite memory about Mrs Link is that she read us the novel Charlotte's Web in class.  I still remember that story as if was told to me yesterday.  It was magical to me at that time and to be honest, still is.  I thank her for that.  She was also kind and encouraging like Mrs. Barnes.

Until next time, adios.

Spanish Crocodile

One day at the house where I wrote about the goat in a previous post we had a reptilian visitor.  Before I get ahead of myself, let me say lizards there were LARGE, about two feet in length, the photo is actually of the species in question.  The window in the bathroom was usually left often because of the nice southern Spain weather.  Well my mother went into the bathroom to close the window in question and found one of these large lizards reclining in our bathtub after coming through the open window.

The lizard hastily greeted her with a loud hiss which prompted my mother to go next door to ask our neighbor for help with the unwanted visitor.  Mike was home from work that day and came over to assist with animal control.  When Mike saw the lizard he said a word my six year old ears had never heard before, but have heard a lot since.  He also thought when my mom said "lizard" she was talking about a two inch gecko and not this two foot long crocodile as he was now calling it.  Me, I was loving it, first a pet goat now a two foot long lizard in the bathtub this place was much more interesting than the States.

Mike began the task of capturing the "crocodile" with a large trash can and a broom.  It reminded me more of watching a lion tamer at the circus then a grown man trying to capture a lizard, lots of cussing and hissing.  It took awhile, but Mike was eventually successful with his capture and released the lizard safely outside.

Bye for now.

My very first goat

It's not uncommon for you to have to wait for housing to become available when you move to a new military base.  That was the case when we got to Rota.  We lived in a house outside of base while we waited for housing on base to become available.  This is one story of what happened one day while staying at that house.

A dirt road was adjacent to our house.  Everyday in the morning a farmer would take his animals to market and the same farmer would return home in the afternoon on that dirt road.  My younger brother, Bryan, and I would say and wave "hello" to him everyday.  We liked to look at the cows, donkeys and goats.  It was like a mobile petting zoo as far as my brother and I were concerned.

About a month passed by, and on this particular afternoon the farmer approached Bryan and myself with a young goat in his arms.  He spoke to us, we didn't speak Spanish at the time, and he handed me the young goat.  Cool, I've never had a goat before.  We had a dog, but no goats.  We both shouted "gracias" and excitedly ran into the house to show mom our new pet.  She did not share our excitement.  She asked "where did you get that" in quite a loud voice as I remember it.  I explained it was our new goat, like this kind of thing happens everyday.  She hurried down the dirt road to catch up to the kind farmer.  She explained why we could not own a goat.  I am afraid to say we had to return the goat to the nice farmer.

Later my mom explained that the farmer gave the goat to my brother and myself because we always greeted him on his way to and from work.  He was just rewarding our kindness.

Bye until next time. 

Blog Assignment Wk 4: Top 5

I am going to discuss my top five movies of all time.  To be honest this list would probably change based on my mood.  It is a dynamic list without a doubt.

1. To Kill A Mockingbird:  My all time favorite.  A great movie based on a great book. A movie ahead of its time with a message.  Gregory Peck epitomizes what a movie star should represent, good actor and a good person.  First movie, I think, that Robert Duvall was in playing Boo Bradley.
2. Lawrence of Arabia:  Beautifully shot movie.  It's like a work of art.  Great cast, little trivia for you the sheik is played by Alec Guinness, you know him better as the original Obi-Wan from the first Star Wars.
3. Rear Window: A great Alfred Hitchcock thriller.  Stars Jimmy Stewart and Grace Kelly.  Grace Kelly before she became royalty.  She is absolutely gorgeous in this movie.  The movie is mostly shot from just one setting, the rear window view of Jimmy Stewart's apartment.
4. Star Wars:  This movies makes my list because of its impact on the movies that came after.  This movie became huge almost totally by word of mouth.  It had very little advertising to promote it.  Set the mark for special effects in movies today.
5. Indiana Jones and the Lost Ark:  The perfect summer movie.  Invented what we define as a summer blockbuster today.  It's almost a perfect movie, got a little of everything. It is a very entertaining movie. 

Welcome to Rota

My family moved to Spain in the summer on 1968 and lived there for three years until 1971.  My father was assigned to the Marine Barracks on the Rota Spain Naval Base.  Marines are sometimes stationed on naval bases, because they are a component of the Department of Navy.  I would advise that you don't tell a Marine they are part of the Navy.  The rivalry between the Navy and the Marines is a little intense.  Rota is located in southern Spain not far from the Strait of Gibraltar.  Rota was at that time, it still might be, home to the Mediterranean Fleet.  Every six months that fleet of about 7000 sailors would hit Rota.  That might explain why Rota, the size of Greenville, Illinois, had over hundred bars.

Some of my favorite memories as a child was while I lived in Spain.  The weather was, and still is I imagine, perfect.  Everyday it was in the seventies, not too hot or too cold.  Spanish television was not compatible to our set, so we didn't watch TV for the whole three years we lived there.  As a result of no television, I played outside all day long until dinner time.  Fruit trees are common there so if I got hungry all I had to do was climb a tree.  I had a choice of figs, peaches, dates and pomegranates.  It wasn't necessary to come home for lunch.

I think that's good for now.  Next time I will get into more stories about my time in Spain.

Camp Lejeune

My first clear memories of living on a military base was when I lived at Camp Lejeune.  Camp LeJeune is a  Marine Corps base located in eastern North Carolina near a town called Jackson.  My father was stationed there right after he returned home from Vietnam in 1967 and I was five when my family moved there.

I was very young when I lived there so I don't have a lot memories of my time there.  We only lived there just about a year.  I do remember there being a lot of pines trees there.  I remember using all of those pine needles to build small walls and mounds to play in, what can I say I was five.   I also remember in the summer it was very hot and humid.  There were also, many mosquitoes and they were as big as I was.  I wish I was kidding.  My favorite memory of my time at Camp Lejeune was my first visit to a movie theater where I saw Disney's Jungle Book.  That was the first movie I remember going to and I was totally amazed.

I was supposed to start school the year I lived in Camp Lejeune which would have been kindergarten.  For whatever reason kindergarten was not part of the public school system.  The family didn't have enough money at the time for me to attend, so no school.  I was disappointed, to say the least.  My mother taught me instead.  which in hindsight turned out much better for me personally than if I had got to go kindergarten.  She taught me a lot.  She taught me as much as I could absorb.  My mother's efforts made my time at school a year later much easier for me; I could read and write the day I started first grade.  Thanks mom.

In 1968 my dad got orders for his next assignment, Rota Spain.  That's for next time.  Bye for now.



 

Theme or Not to Theme?

I have debated on whether I wanted my blog to follow a theme this semester, or was it better just to go with whatever nonsense happened to pop in my head?  I've decided to follow a theme.  I figured it would be easier to decide what to write about and make more sense if I knew the subject.  Give the whole project some structure if you will.

I'm a military brat, so I going to blog about stories that happened to me when I was a much younger person living on various military bases.  I was a military brat during the 60s and 70s.  The only time I didn't live on a base during that time was when my father went to Vietnam in 1967.  I have lived on eight different military bases from California to Spain.  The longest time I spent at one base was when I lived in Rota, Spain for 3 years from 1968 to 1971.  I went to nine different schools within 12 grades.  I would always be asked by friends if I hated moving so much.  I would always reply the following to that question:  Compared to what?  In other words I didn't know what it was like not to move.  I am glad I moved so much and got to live in so many different places and meet so many different types of people.  I believe it has made me a better person.

We will get into more stories next time.  Good-bye for now.

I Am From

I Am From

I am from Warm Light

From Tide and Dawn

I am from the White Cozy

I am from the Bee Balm

The Oak whose long gone limbs I remember

I’m from Holiday Dinner and Determination

From my daughters Raven and Kelly

I’m from Pancakes and Coffee

And an occasional Family Party

I am from Eat Your Dinner and Clean Your Room

And Your Dad Will Be Home Soon

I’m from Family Reunions

I’m from Barstow California and the British Isles

From Potato Salad and Spaghetti Italian Style

From Mom and Dad and their many Family Members

From Baby Pictures on the wall that make us Remember