I went to the High School Graduation party, staying up all night, getting home around 6AM the next day. I then slept until later in the day and got ready to depart on my trip to Los Angeles. I remember my folks loaned me their Toyota truck (a tiny one that was black and orange, I think, with a white canopy - quite an amusing sight). I was going to move to Los Angeles to live my dreams out...to get into a music store and work for something in the way of music. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but it's all I could see myself doing: selling and working in the entertainment industry. I didn't have any other real "goals" as I was raised to not really have any. Jehovah's Witness kids were raised, in the '80's and before, to get married, have a family, and preach The Truth door to door, to Witness to everyone you meet. I wasn't expected to go to college (my father never did, my mother went for 3 years and then decided being a Sociologist in the late 60's was too difficult a field to obtain work in as "everyone was doing it"), my grandparents never went to college (the ones I knew well), so that was that...my dad's mantra to me on many a night at the dinner table was simple, "Get a good job and work hard in life, that's all you need to be successful, kid, don't fuck it up."
The trip to Los Angeles was to be an easy one, as I was taking Joel K. with me. Joel was Jerry's little brother (a year younger than me) and Jerry was Mike's best friend (Michael J., a friend of mine that I had worked with at FVM during High School - he was...I'd guess 8 years my Senior, and I graduated with his sister). Joel was going down to L.A. with me to see his brother Jerry and then drive back with my mom when she came down to pick up the truck and bring me my car, a 1972 blue Pinto with white vinyl seats. The truck was a loaner to get all my worldly possessions that I cared to take with me down to Los Angeles.
Mike was living in Lompoc near Jerry as he was at the Air Force Base, recently enlisted and assigned there. They were inseperable. Jerry was only a year older than me, and Mike followed him down there. Mike was going back to Los Angeles to live with me and one of my best friends (I had 2), named Cyndi E. She had a boyfriend named Brian. Brian was a complete dork...but, I didn't know this until I met him. Good grief he was an odd guy. He played the synthesizer, loved The Information Society (band) and was studying in Design School to be an interior designer and worked at a Sunglasses store selling sunglasses all day in downtown Los Angeles. I can't recall what Cyndi did for work now...
Anyway...Joel and I got ready to leave, I said goodbye to my family and I was off. WE were off, literally in some respects.
I vaguely remember driving but not much...at some point we made it down to the Whitaker area of California - we stopped at a rest area and about 5 minutes later I'm getting called out of the restroom by a frantic woman, "Is there a T- in here?" I called out yes and she replied with, "your friend out there burned himself really badly..." I race out of the restroom and find Joel burned and soaked - the "master mechanic" that he was (he and his brother rebuilt a couple of classic Mustangs) left him for a few minutes as he took off the radiator cap to check the coolant...without letting it cool. We drove to the nearest hospital.
Joel had 2nd and 3rd degree burns to his face, hands, arms and chest. They bandaged him up temporarily and then drove him to Chino via ambulance. About 8 hours later we were back on the road; Joel bandaged and on pain killers, me falling asleep at the wheel. Joel drove the rest of the way to Los Angeles after about an hour of me almost getting us into constant wrecks from veering off to the side of the freeway or almost into cars. It was quite insane, and I'm sure he was quite a spectacle to behold to the passing vehicles.
When we arrived in Lompoc Mike took me out for breakfast (it was 4AM, and I hadn't been asleep in over 24 hours except for a couple cat naps in the truck) at a Carl's Juniors. I'd never heard of them, and fell in love. We didn't have those in Oregon at the time.
We moved to Los Angeles later that day and I saw Cyndi for the first time in probably a year or more. She was gracious and ushered us into the tiny one bedroom apartment we'd be sharing with her and Brian. We were to sleep in the living room, which was as small as some people's fancy kitchens. Brian and Cyndi had the bedroom (which was as big as the living room) which also had the bathroom in it.
I was happy to be there...
A couple of days later my mom showed up with my car and took the truck home. I hadn't been to sleep except for a couple hours here and there in literally 3 days. She wanted to go to Disneyland, I opted to sleep. Mike took her, thankfully. Joel got a ride back to Los Angeles and went home with my mom. On the way home my mother fell asleep behind the wheel (while Joel was also sleeping) and ran the truck under a semi. She walked away with scrapes and bruises and Joel came out of it with a broken nose. He vowed never to travel with any member of our family ever again.
The view from our apartment building balcony...the first I lived in off Irolo St. with Cyndi, et al.
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