“Just a Temporary Side Track”

It’s a beautiful Sunday morning in this corner of the world as I awake groggy from my Saturday night affairs. I make a pot of java and get a quick shower. I have no pressing engagements or responsibilities to uphold, don’t you love days like that?

So I decide to drive the 15 miles down the freeway to the only open music store in the area. It’s called “Guitar Center.” I find a place to park and I walk in. I need a capo and some picks so I go to the accessories counter and pick-up my stuff. I don’t get to this store very often so I decide to go look around in their “acoustic guitar room” a glass doored room filled with beautiful high quality acoustic guitars hanging from the walls saying “Play Me” So I grab a beautiful Martin 12 string to play. It sounds and plays absolutely amazing. As I am finishing another customer with his female friend comes into the room. I see him pick up another Martin and begin playing a beautiful melody in the key of E. He is finger picking and plays very well. I decide to pick up the 12 string I was playing earlier and acompany him with some lead phrases. We are sounding great together. He looks over at me, I look over at him and his friend. We all smile. We play for about 3 minutes and end the jam perfectly. “Wow!” he says that was awesome.” “Excellent playing dude!” I respond. “That was fun!” I put down the 12 string and walk out the door of the “acoustic room”.

As I’m leaving I hear a rare song over the store sound system called “It’s a Shame About Ray” by The Lemonheads. It’s one of my favorite songs and you will never hear it on the radio. I get a really big case of the goose bumps and for a moment life is really good!

“My First Wife and Only Child” part 3

We’ve only just begun to live White lace and promises
A kiss for luck and we’re on our way
And yes we’ve just begun “The Carpenters”

”A few days later Carroll and I went down to what was once the place I lived. I went inside and grabbed my clothes, a few photos, my two guitars, my other surfboard and I said goodby to La Conchita and the single life.

It wasn’t to long that Carroll and I settled into the lifestyle of a young couple working and pooling our resouces together to sustain a comfortable lifestyle. I was able to buy a car from my friend Steve Padroni who lived at Rincon Point. It was a blue 1968 Rambler American station wagon with a six cylinder engine and an automatic transmission. It also came with a big bright orange bumper sticker that said “NATIVE CALIFORNIANS UNITE” I loved this car it was the perfect surfing vehicle. I continued working at the Plastic Factory. I was working three 12 hour days with four days off. I was also busy one night a week mopping and polishing the floors at Casa Ayala. This allowed me to eat there whenever for free.

Carroll and I had been living in her apartment for about two months under the guise that I was looking for my own place. Which I kinda was. I had checked with a few people in town that were renting rooms or small studios. But whenever I brought these up to Carroll she would get all teary eyed and sad and ask me why I wanted to leave. “Well basically your parents don’t like our arrangement” I told her. “I know” she said “They don’t like the idea of us ”Living in Sin” “OK then I’m looking for my own place so we arn’t living in sin and then your parents won’t be on our case” “Do you really want your own place?” she asked me “Well to be perfectly honest I could live with you forever if your parents didn’t mind.” Really? forever?” “Yeah probably” I said. ”Then lets get married” Gulp! “It would be just like we are now but legal and then my parents would be happy.” “Maybe we could look for our own little place and get out of my apartment.” The wheels in my brain began to turn all the positives and negatives, you know weighing things out. “Humm maybe we could find a little house on or near the water. Do I really think I can make a long term commit… fuck long term, you mean a fuckin lifetime commitment to one women. That was the hard one. ” I don’t know Carroll that’s a really big step I gotta think about it.“ “Whats there to think about don’t you love me?” Whoa! now we’re throwing that word out on the table. It had suddenly occurred to me that I had never said “I love you” to her. She had me pinned down with her marriage proposal and the “don’t you love me” thing, a one two punch to the soul. “Of course I do baby” I blurted out. “But let me think about this and I’ll get back to you OK?” “OK” she harrumphed. We didn’t talk much that evening, I was doing some serious soul searching. But I still thought she was hot!

A week later we were engaged to be married and the planning began in earnest. Carrolls parents were elated to marry their first daughter and they were going to spare no expense. Then about two weeks before our wedding day we found our dream house. We had heard from a friend that a small cottage located on Bates Road was available for rent. Bates Road is a small two lane coastal canyon road that follows Rincon Creek back up into the coastal mountains. It’s the divide between Santa Barbara and Ventura Counties. The small wooden bungalow was located right at the mouth of the canyon on the side of a small hill. It was lush with vegetation like a jungle and all you had to do was walk down to the point to ride world class waves. I was sooo stoked to get that place. I knew this marriage thing was a good idea. We were to move in one week before our wedding day.

The days and weeks flew by and before you knew it the big day was upon us. We got married in the historic Santa Barbara Mission and held the reception at Rockie Nook Park just around the corner. It was just another typical lavish wedding. If you’ve been to one you’ve been to them all. The best part was coming home to our little house on Bates Road.

“My First Wife and Only Child” part 2

I was really into Carroll and we started to see each other regularly. I was still sleeping on the couch when I stayed overnight and we were starting to burn more and more passionately every time I was there. But we didn’t fuck. We wanted to but there was something stopping her from going over the edge. Then one evening when we were really goin at it she asked me to go to bed with her. I was a little taken aback because I knew this was a big step for her and it meant alot. I asked her “Are you sure you want to do this?” “Yes” she said. She took my hand and we walked down the hall to her bedroom a room I had only been in once. She turned towards me and we kissed hard, deep and passionately. It was on, and it was good! Hours later as we lay in her bed with a full moon and a slight evening breeze bringing with it the smell of night blooming jasmine through her open sliding glass doors, Carroll began to cry really hard “Whats the matter baby” I said “Oh nothing I’ll be fine” “No your not going to do that. I want to know whats wrong.” Thats when she told me about her rape.

Carroll came from a wealthy Catholic family growing up in Orange County California. Her father had a successful thriving commercial painting business with some huge contracts. Her mother was right out of “Real Orange County House Wives” a real high maintenance glamour queen. They lived in very affluent upper class community. Carroll was an excellent student going to one of the best private schools in the area. She was also involved in community volunteer work with her church. She had one younger sister Judy. Judy was one year younger than Carroll and just as beautiful. These girls got what ever they wanted from mom and dad. Not spoiled but real close.

It happened a little over a year ago when Carroll and her girlfriend Connie decided to go to the north shore of Oahu in Hawaii during the Pro Surfing contest season. They thought it would be really fun to hang out and meet some of the Pro Surfers and locals that winter and watch some of the big wave contests. It was during a post contest party at one of the Pro sponsored dorms that Carroll ran into trouble. During the partying Connie and Carroll had no problem meeting a variety of surfers from all over the world some famous, some not so famous, and some just local neighborhood hangerounds. Carroll met the latter. He offered her a ride back to where she was staying and she took the bait. He drove her out to a secluded sugar cane road had his way with her and left her there bruised and battered. When she told me about this it turned my stomach with anger and thoughts of revenge. I had seen so much violence against my mother growing up and Carroll was such a sweet girl it just really troubled me very deeply.

After she confided in me she said that I was the first guy she really felt comfortable being with since her tragic experience. She felt comfortable being around me, hanging out with me, and now sexually. I began to spend more and more time at her apartment. Then one day when I was at “Smiths Food King” getting some things for supper at Carrolls I ran into my roommate Dave. “Hey dude we havn’t seen you around much at the pad” “Yeah I know” I said. “Well I should let you know that I’m moving out next week and I think Antman is going back to his parents house on the rock” Whoa! your moving out of Shangrala? Yeah I’m going up to San Luis Obispo to work with my dad driving a big rig.” “Cool, you’ll make some good money workin for your Dad.” I said. “Thats the plan bro. What are you gonna do?” “Uhh I don’t know, I’ll figure out something.” “Well if I don’t see ya take care and good luck!” I didn’t like the way he said “good luck” it had a sarcastic ring to it. “Yeah whatever” I said.

I had just started a new job in Carpinteria at Percal Plastics. I was operating an injection mold machine at a place that made everything from skateboard wheels to those dark green soil pots for all the wholesale nurseries in Carpinteria. That night over eggplant parmesan I told Carroll about my roommates departure from La Conchita. “Well now that your working why don’t stay here with me. We’re practically living together as it is” I thought about what she just said. I had never lived with another girl let alone one that I was romantically associating with. “Yeah but what about your parents” I said. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do it. But I couldn’t sit there and think for to long. “We’ll worry about that later” she said. I had to respond. “Yeah lets do it!” Uhh Oh…did I say that?

“My First Wife and Only Child”

It was the summer of 1975 I had been living with my roomates David and Antman in the little seaside shangrala of La Conchita California 4 miles south of Rincon Point and 6 miles south of Carpinteria.

I was doing some odd jobs like working in a large wholesale nursery filling thousands of plastic pots with soil, picking avocados, and house painting. Basically just getting by. I didn’t have a car so I had to bum a ride into town or hitch hike up Pacific Coast Highway to get to town. I was also limited to surfing the beach across the street unless someone offered to take me with them on a surf trek elsewhere. It was on this beach one hot sunny afternoon in the summer of 1975 that I met Carroll. She was a beautiful women of Italian and Mexican heritage. She was tall about 5’7” with a beautiful olive complexion and long straight dark hair down to her narrow waist. She worked as a waitress at a local mexican restaurant in Carpinteria. I had gone to this restaurant several times so I recognized her lounging in her sand chair soaking the afternoon sun. I noticed she was reading a book that I had just recently finished called “Stranger in a Strange Land” “How do you like it so far?” I asked her. Huh? she said as she looked over to where I was parked. “That book your reading, how do you like it so far?” “Oh it’s great she said, have you read it?” “Yes, I just finished it.” “Hey don’t you work in Carp at that mexican restaurant Casa Ayala” I added. “Yes” she replied. “Yeah I go in there every now and then” “Yes I know I’ve seen you but I’ve never waited on you because your never at my station.” “Well how do I get your station?” I asked. “Next time you come in just let me seat you.” “Are you working tonight?” I said “Yes, in fact I need to go in about an hour. I start at 3:00” “I’ll come up tonight for supper” I said. “I’ll look forward to it” she said. We talked until it was time for her to go. Then I helped her with her beach gear and walked her to her car. “I’ll see you later on.”I said “OK I’m there till 10:00” She slid her long sexy legs into her Opel Manta as I closed the door. “See ya later” she said. “Count on it” I said. That evening I got cleaned up and put on my Guatemalan embroidered peasant shirt , my best Bermuda shorts and my “Rainbow” flip flops. Style n for dinner.

I walked out the front of my house, down the steps from my deck, across the frontage road, and across the railroad tracks to the side of the highway and stuck out my thumb. I got a ride right away into town. I walked down Linden Ave. to Casa Ayala and walked into the front entrance. Casa Ayala was a family owned restaurant that had been a fixture in town for many years. It was a modest place that seated about 40 people. It had a nice atmosphere with tall maroon upholstered bench seats at every booth offering privacy. The lighting was dim but not too dark, and the food was consistently excellent! As was apparent by all the locals that frequented the place. I often saw many of my surfing peers chowing down when I went in to eat. “Hey Keith!” “Hey Brad, Hey Mike!”

I went up to the hostess, a beautiful girl named Elsa I told her “Carroll’s going to seat me tonight” “Oh so Carroll wants you all to herself” Elsa replied. I chuckled “I hope so” Carroll came through the double sided flapping kitchen doors carrying dozens of plates of food for one of her tables. She caught my eye and gave me a big brite smile. She was glad to see me. She came over to me and in a cute way like she had never met me said “Where would you like to sit sir?” “how about here” I said as I took a booth all to myself. “Perfect” she said as she gave me a menu. “Would you like anything to drink while your deciding?” “Yeah, I’ll have a Modello please” “Coming right up” She walked back to the bar to get my beer. I was checking her out as she turned to walk away. She was wearing a short black skirt that really showed of her legs and a white embroidered peasant top tucked into her skirt with a wide black belt around her waist. She was wearing some sandals with a slight heel on them that complemented the whole package. I liked what I saw.

I ended up going to Carrolls apartment that evening. But it wasn’t what you think or what I expected. We talked into the wee hours of the morning and when it was time for some sleep she told me I could use the couch so I agreed. You see I found out that Carroll was a good Catholic girl so I respected her wishes and in fact liked them. I gave her as big a kiss as she would allow then curled up on the couch and crashed. In the morning we had omelets, coffee and english muffins then she gave me a ride home. She asked me if I would like to come back over to her place the next evening for a home cooked meal, naturally I agreed. Things where about to heat up both physically and emotionally.

“Jobs That I Have Done”

1. Newpaper delivery both by bicycle and by automobile
2. Window washer
3. Ditch digger
4. Wood Chopper (for fire wood)
5. Butcher Shop Meat Cutter (Fired after taking one sick day to go surfing in six months)
6. Plant nursery (putting dirt in pots)
7. Production Welder (luggage racks for MG sports cars)
8. Fiberglass Chopper Gun Operator (boat hulls)
9. Injection Mold Operator (skateboard wheels)
10. Injection Mold Operator (shampoo bottles)
11. Milk Man
12. Salvation Army Truck Driver (collecting donations)
13. Liquor store clerk for 5 years (I liked that one)
14. Fiberglass Parts Sander (that was itchy)
15. Janitor/Dishwasher (paid with free mexican diners)
16. Sheet Metal Fabricator
17. Produce Delivery Driver (lots of free fruit and veggies)
18. Capet Installer (hard on your knees)
19. Painter (I hate oil base)
20. Gas Station Attendant (before self service)
21. Cutting Press Operator (cutting patterns for childrens nusery furniture)
22. Lathe Operator (gun parts)
23. Drafter/Technical Illustrator (first on ink and velum then on the computer)
23. Graphic Artist (A morph from technical illustrating)
24. Photo Film Maker (documenting and editing clean room processes)
25. Solo Long Haul Semi Truck Driver (I saw all 48 states in one year)
26. BMW Prototype Test Driver (to bad it was only temporary)
27. Pizza Delivery (I don’t like pizza anymore)
28. Auto Parts Delivery (mechanics are not happy people!)

“How to Blow a Good Thing”

Well let me just preface this next little journey with the fact that I got a little more time. Last week I had my second heart attack within the last 5 years. I’m almost 53 years old. I think it’s a hereditary thing. I caught it in time, had a second stint installed and I have been taking it easy. I’m walking 4 to 5 miles a day as usual and playing some golf. The weather here in Southern California has been absolutely beautiful the first part of February. So I’ve been out there in it!
So with my ipod playing one of my favorite songs, “Indigo is Blue” by Catherine Wheel….

So here I was living on the waters edge in a really cool funky beach colony with new friends a good job, money in the bank, a cool ride everything is perfect. Except I have an addictive personality, watch me blow it!

I was working nights at Northrup Aviation my shift was three o’clock in the afternoon till midnight. I had been working this shift for about a year but when I finally moved to the coast all I ever wanted to do was surf. I live in an area of Southern California that has some of the most pristine world class point breaks in the world, not to mention the sandy beach breaks just a few minutes drive south. It is paradise. If only you could see the sunset out my window right now! But I digress. It was my exposure to this new environment that made me want to never leave it. You see as a surf addict when the waves are good you don’t want to go or do anything but surf. Even if that thing is work. Oh the dreaded “WORK” why oh why
do we have to work? To pay the bills. But I didn’t know that part yet. I started missing more and more days from work until….I got fired.

On the night I was fired I wasn’t disappointed but I knew deep inside that this wasn’t good. I just sorta pushed it aside and said to myself “I got some bucks stashed, no need to panic.” For about two months things went great. I surfed when there were waves. Hell I even surfed when there wasn’t any waves. I hiked and explored the back country of Ventura and Santa Barbara counties. I went sailing regularly with my friend Craig. I went to parties in the U.C.S.B. college town of Isla Vista. Life was good. Then the rent came around again.

I was $150 short on the rent that month. I was out of my savings. I needed to find some work. Then my friend and neighbor Bruce said “Hey Keith how would you like to be my helper laying carpet?.” “Sure I need to make some money.” I said “OK we start Monday morning at 9:00 be down at my house.” “Great, thanks Bro” I replied. Now laying carpet is a tough job but I got good at it and for awhile things were going pretty smooth. Then the work started slowing down as it always did toward the winter season and I was no longer needed. Once again I was short on my rent. No I wasn’t short I just didn’t have it. Well that month we got our eviction notice to move out in 30 days. I let myself down. I let my roommate the Antman down. I was losing paradise. Then I decided to sell my VW panel bus so I could get some money. I sold it for $1200 and bought a 65 Chevy pickup truck for $500. Then instead of looking for a job I surfed for a month before I had to move out.

I had $500 left in my pocket two weeks before moving. Antman and a friend of his had found a 3 bedroom house just up the road on the other side of PCH in the little coastal hamlet known as La Conchita California. I didn’t know if I would be included as a roommate after the debacle I had created at the last place. I asked Antman and Dave if I could move in with them and occupy the third bedroom. I knew that my $500 would ease the burden of the deposit and first months rent. They reluctantly said OK as long as I got a job pronto! So now it was three. We were not on the waters edge anymore but we did have an ocean view and we could see Rincon Point right off our front deck. I had bought myself another month and now I was broke. I didn’t even have money for petrol. I was beginning to live the same way I had lived on the Rock one day at a time with no concern for the future. Que Sera Sera…

Rock Me On The Water

Well it’s a cold, rainy, wet wednesday morning and I didn’t get to work today. I use my cell phone alarm to wake me, but last night I turned it off because some bill collectors have been buggin me. I thought I would turn it back on before I had to wake up. Yeah right! Needless to say I over slept and with my job you can’t just show up an hour late. You have to be there at a specific time or else you don’t work. So I guess the bill collector did manage to stick it to me. So with my ipod jammin some killer tunes and me poised at my keyboard lets go!

“Grandma I need to let you know that I will be moving out in a week.” I said “What! Why on earth are you going to do a thing like that? Your living rent free with a good job and saving money. Why on earth?” Grandma you know how much I love to surf and you know how much I love the beach and I’m not leaving my job. A place right on the beach has fallin in my lap and I took it. I’ve already made a payment and deposit so it’s etched in stone.” “You do whatever you want” she said in disgust. The following week was nothing but the cold shoulder. We said no more than 5 words to each other. It was awful, and I really felt bad. But at eighteen your gonna do what you want and I did.

On April 1st the Antman and I went up to Mussel Shoals California to 1578 Pacific Coast Highway, my new address. I loved writing “Pacific Coast Highway” on my mail. I brought my surfboard and gear, my clothes and that Indian rug I’ve been lugging around. Our place was partially furnished but we wanted to decorate it to our specs. So the next day we drove out to Glendale California in my new VW panel van to an import store that had everything we needed. Doorway beads, tapestries, brass, giant throw pillows, incense and a really cool water pipe. Our place looked like the inside of Lawrence of Arabia’s tent.

Two weeks after moving to the coast I went to working nights 3pm to midnight. Perfect for surfing during the day. I was in absolute heaven. I had money, a car and was living my dream. I met new people and made new friends. I loved the lifestyle and laid back attitudes of people that lived on the coast. It was a peaceful easy feelin. So I decided to throw a big party!

About two months later in June as the days got longer and warmer I decided to take some of my money and throw a huge outdoor party. I got together with the residents of the community and we all agreed to go ahead with it. Now Mussel Shoals is a small coastal hamlet, a little niche on the coast. At that time there was probably 45 to 50 dwellings many used just as a vacation home. Maybe two thirds were year round residents. Inside this community there was a large lot about the size of half a football field. The lot was situated at the entry to an oil pier with beach on each side of the lot and the pier. A perfect setup for a party on the water. I contacted my old friend Jimi Williamson the drummer from “The Purple Freight Train” the band I once sang in. I had heard of a project that he was playing in called “Clean Slate” and I asked if they would like to come up from LA and play, Jimi agreed. I had a band! Next on my list was to get some beer. Lots of beer. I went to Pats Liquor in Carpinteria and ordered 10 kegs of beer and a bunch of red plastic cups to be picked up on the day of the event. Party promotion was all word of mouth. Keep in mind this all took place in 1974 when you could freely do such things.

Saturday morning the day of the party. I awoke to the distant sound of wood saws and hammers going. I made a cup of coffee and walked down to the “lot.” It was a beautiful sunny day with no surf, but thats OK stuff needed to be done. Arby and a couple of his carpenter friends were building a stage for the band. Other neighbors were routing lights and electricity out to the stage. I was stunned at the enthusiastic participation of the community, you don’t see that anymore unless it’s a disaster or crime. I said good morning and thank you to everyone. I walked back to my house and the phone rang. There was a guy on the other end named Ronnie he said that he was in a band and he wanted to know if they could come up and play. I don’t know how he got my number but thats not important. My mind started thinking “Wow! two live bands!” I asked him for his phone number and said that I’d call him back. I called Jimi to ask him about putting another band on the bill. He said “No problem bro.” So I called Ronnie back and said “sure dude, pack it up.” “Right on man we’re gonna rock it!” “I expect nothing less Ronnie”

4:20pm Saturday the stage is built, Clean Slate arrives and starts setting up. Not long after Clean Slate Ronnie showed up with his band called “Dreams” I decided to set up Dreams on a concrete foundation slab next to the stage, the original spot for a band if a stage was not built. Clean Slate got the stage, Dreams got the slab. Dreams opened and Clean Slate closed. Entertainment schedule done.

6:45pm I take a shower and get all dolled up. I throw on a pair of Levis my flip flops and my favorite Yater Surfboards T-Shirt. I go out to the living room and the Antman is twisting up doobies for the evening. “Spark one up bro” I select one from the half dozen rolled on the table and spark it. I have not had a hit all day and I take a nice long pull. I hold it until I begin to feel the expansion, expand hold, expand hold, expand, I let out a huge cloud of smoke and start coughing violently “I gotta drive up to Carp and get the beer” I croak out to Antman.”Hey that reminds me” said Antman “Bruce said you could use his old Chevy pickup truck to put the kegs in then you could tap three at a time and serve it off the tailgate.” “Brilliant!” I said. I walked down the street and talked to Bruce about using his truck he said “no problem” he gave me the key and I gave him a nice fatty. I fired up the old 54 and drove up to Carpinteria.

7:07pm I went to “The Spot” and got a burger and onion rings for my dinner. Always eat a good meal before you start drinkin. I arrived at Pats Liquor and got my kegs, ice, buckets, taps, red cups and started heading back to Mussel Shoals. It was getting close to dusk as I arrived back. I pulled off of PCH into the little hamlet and I was stunned. There were already hoards of people arriving. Groups of people were walking down to the “Lot,” cars were funneling off of Pacific Coast Highway and jockeying for parking spaces. I saw Bruce and the Antman as I pulled in and crept the old Chevy through the neighborhood trying to get down to the Lot. “Dude this thing is getting huge! and it hasn’t even started yet!” said Bruce. As I got the beer wagon down to the Lot there was already about a hundred people there. The bands were set up and sound checking. A cheer went up when I pulled onto the lot and found a spot right in front of the “pier for the beer.” A crowd charged the truck as I got out to climb into the bed and tap the kegs. I heard a familiar voice yell “Hey Keith you need some help?” as I looked out among the growing crowd I saw my good friend Jeff that I met shortly after moving in. “Get up here now bro!” I yelled. Jeff plowed through the crowd and jumped up into the bed of the truck and helped me get everything flowin. “This is gonna be insane dude!” he said as we worked. “Yeah I know!” I said.

That night as soon as the last sliver of sun dropped into the blue Pacific “Dreams” launched into the Allman Brothers Statesboro Blues followed by Southbound and Whipping Post turned out these guys were big Allman Brothers fans. They also played songs from The Marshall Tucker Band and 38 Special and of course Lynard Skinner I was pleasantly surprised at how good they were.

Then “Clean Slate” hit the stage. Lights Camera Action! They played almost all of David Bowies’ Ziggy Stardust as well as Mott The Hoople, Lou Reeds Velvet Underground and others. They blew everyones mind.

People danced and mingled as a big bon fire was going on the beach. I got off the truck for awhile and mingled about. As I was walking through the crowd I had three different girls come up to me at different points and say “Are you the guy that threw this party?” “Yeah” all three of them gave me a big kiss. “That makes it all worth it” I thought.

I never got drunk that night. I got a little buzzed but I needed to keep things in control. Not that I could do anything about it if it got out of control but I felt a responsibility. But what was really amazing was the cops never came! Yeah thats right the cops never came. There were no fights. No car accidents or fender benders, nothing. Buy 3:00am everything was over except the clean up. I went to bed and got up around 10am and walked down to the lot to survey the damage and clean up. As I walked down to the lot I noticed no trash along the way no red plastic mugs, cigarette packs or butts. When I got to the lot it looked like nothing ever happened. Nothing! Even the stage was gone. You see back then communities pulled together for parties and disasters.

“View From My Kitchen”

Even as a restorer of some men’s souls, the seashore has less magic than it held until a few short years ago. Seldom nowadays can one seek and find solace and refreshment from a seaside wilderness — that desert of water, sand, and sky where the only sounds are the lazy pounding of a summer surf, the faint rustle of the wind in the dune grasses, and the occasional cry of a tern. No section of our shore is now free from the jeep and the airplane. It is difficult to become attuned to the ancient rhythm of the sea while assailed by rock-and-roll from a portable radio.

Taken from The National Park Service “Pacific Coast Recreation Survey” 1960.

I had been living with my grandmother for about six months and working at Northrup as a fiberglass fabrication technician. I still didn’t have a car and Thelma was my only way to get around and getting around meant going to work and back. Sometimes I would go to the grocery store with her just to break things up a bit. My life was very boring. Sometimes my old surfing friends from the Rock “Antman” and Marcos would come by on the weekend and take me surfing. How I loved those days that I could get out and hang and surf with my buddies. Not to mention the chance to smoke a little weed and drink some Mead Wine from a botta bag.

Then one day we went to Mussel Shoals to surf the pier. Our friend Arby had moved to the coast about a year earlier and was renting a duplex there right on the water. We parked in front of his house and went surfing. The surf was really good and we surfed for about six hours straight. Later that afternoon we were all kicking back on Arbys sun deck watching the other locals getting their wave quota in for the day. Really great surfers like Dan Riley, Mike Reese, and Ross Cave were tearing it up in the late afternoon emerald green waves coming through the pier.

It was then that I thought to myself “I wanna live here, not San Diego, not Huntington Beach, not San Luis, but right here!” Then Arby said something that blew my mind. “Hey if anyone is interested the place down below is going up for rent at the end of the month.” “Really!” I said “Yeah April 1st” “How much?” I asked “$650″ said Arby. “It’s got two bedrooms and one is pretty small. But it has a nice living room and a really cool kitchen with a big picture window looking at the pier” he told us. I started thinkin.”I have some money saved up but If I moved I would need a car so I could get to work. Plus $650 would be a little tight for one person to swing. If I could split it that would be just fine. Plus I would need to give a first, last and a damage deposit.” Basically I needed a car and a roommate. I told Arby that I was very interested but I had to work some things out. He said “If you want it I need to know within a week and I’ll refer you to the owner.” “Cool, thats fine” I said.

On the way back to grandmas house I was determined to get that house on the beach. The money to pull it all off would completely tap my savings. Especially the car. I would have to buy a cheap transportation vehicle that would get me through the 40 mile round trip to work everyday. Then a few days later when Thelma and I had come home from work, Thelma was going through the mail and said “Looks like you got something, it looks important” “Shit not another surprise” I thought. I took the envelope and opened it. It was a check made out to me for $5000. It was a life insurance policy that was from my mother. I felt a tear come to my eye then I started to cry really hard. “What’s wrong Keith?” Thelma asked. I couldn’t speak I handed her the papers and check. It took seven months for my mothers death to finally hit me. “I’ll be darned” she said “What?” I said “I didn’t think they would pay on this because it was a suicide” “Well they did” I said.

I put the check in my bank account with the rest of my savings. I had enough money to move to the beach, buy a nice car and have plenty left over. All I needed was a roommate. I called Antman back on the Rock. “Hey bro whats happening” “nothing how about you?” “Well dude I called to ask you something” What is it?” “Remember when Arby said the unit down below him was going to be available next month?” “Yeah” “How would you like to move in with me and spilt the rent?” “Really” “Yeah really” “Man I’d be stoked to move in there dude, but I don’t have enough dough for the deposit.” “Tell ya what I’ll do. I’ll pay the deposit and you get the smaller bedroom. Deal?” “Fuck yeah bro that sounds great!”

I now had a roommate. The next weekend Antman and I went to Arby’s house to meet the landlord and look at the duplex. It was such a hip California beach pad. I gave them a check for everything and signed a year lease. As we were walking back upstairs to Arby’s place I mentioned that I needed to buy a car. “You looking for a ride bro?” Arby said. “Yeah” I said. Well there’s a guy right around the corner selling a really nice 1969 VW panel bus. You should go over and take a look at it.” I walked around the corner and saw the bus in the guys driveway. It was a very clean yellow VW panel van. I talked to the owner and drove it. I gave him a deposit to hold it for me for one week. I now had a car. Not just a car but a VW van to go to work in and keep my surfboard and gear in. Because in two weeks I would be living on the beach in Southern California. At age 18 the real “Surfing Lifestyle” was truly just starting.

Now all I had to do was tell my grandmother.

“Grandma Drove a Porsche” conclusion

I fought the law and the law won…

Well that holiday is over and New Years is no big deal with me. I’ve always thought of my birthday as a new year of life to plow through.

After I hung up the phone with “The Man” Thelma asked me who it was because a call for me at her house was extremely rare because nobody knew where I was. Except “The Man” “UUuhhh it was just an agent with the Federal Secret Service Department” I tried to make it sound nonchalant but thats hard to do with the words agent, federal and secret. “What! are you in some kinda trouble?” Thelma asked. “Yeah I think I am” “What do you mean you think you are? That was the Federal Secret Service your damn right your in some kind of trouble! So what is it?” “Uuhhhh I think it might have something to due with forgery” I said. “Forgery! what the hell did you do?” When my grandmother said “hell” I knew she was pissed off. “Well about a year ago I received an income tax check in my mailbox for a friend of mine that was fighting in Viet Nam. I held on to it for awhile then one day a buddy came over to my house and we managed to get it cashed at my bank.” OK I spilled the beans to granny. “Why did you do a stupid, idiotic thing like that?” she asked. “Because I was broke and hungry. I think those are two pretty good reasons.” I didn’t tell her about all the beer and weed we bought.”

So what are they going to do come over here and arrest you?” “No they gave me the option of going down to L.A. tomorrow on my own accord” I said. “Well it looks like we are both taking tomorrow off from work then” she said.” I’m sorry grandma but I’m trying to turn my life around” “Well your life might get turned around sooner than you think!” she said to me. “What do you mean by that? “There’s a good chance that you might be going to prison for a stay.” “Fuck! I hadn’t even thought about that yet.

“I didn’t sleep well at all that night. Early the next morning Thelma and I got up early to get ready for my big day in Los Angeles at The Federal Building. It was a beautiful sunny day as we made our way through the morning traffic. I had been thinking about going to prison all night long and I was getting to the where I had resigned myself to the point of accepting my fate. I had imagined how I would deal and cope with prison life with a thousand made up senereos going through my head over and over. I’ll just shut up, lift weights and kick ass if I have to.

We arrived at the Federal Building at 7:40am for my 8 O’clock appointment. Thelma waited in the lobby of the Secret Service Office as I went in to see “The Man” I sat alone in an office not unlike one you would see at a police department. There were men in suits and ties as well as a few uniformed officers around. Then a gentleman in a black suit came out to the room and said “Mr. Keith Miller” “Yes sir” I formally replied. “Come with me.” We went into a stark room used for questioning where another “agent” sat waiting for me at a table. The scene was just like in the movies where they beat the shit out of you. I sat down at the table while the man who brought me in stood behind me. The man at the table started his questioning with “Why don’t you tell me why your here today Mr. Miller” I told him why I thought I was there and I was right. “Do you know you could go to prison for up to five years for this kind of offense?” the agent said “Shit five years!” I thought to myself. “No I didn’t sir”"Well Mr. Miller we are going to have to arrest you and put you in the holding cell until later today when we can put your case before a judge” Then they handcuffed me and a uniformed officer took me to my cell. As I was being escorted I said to anyone that was listening. “Hey can somebody tell my grandmother in the lobby what’s going on so she knows.” “We’ll tell your granny” the rookie cop escorting me said with a smart ass attitude.

About an hour later a man that I hadn’t met entered the room where my holding cell was. He said he was a public defender and he told me exactly what to say when I met the judge that afternoon. “When the judge asks you how do you plead say guilty.” he said “But if I say guilty I could go to prison” I said “So you think lying is going to get you out of this? Listen kid you screwed up and they know it. That was a federal income tax check that you forged. Your in the big leagues now.” Fuck I’m up the creek for sure” I thought to myself.

Around 1:30pm I was finally sent to the courtroom to see the judge about my case. I was led into the chambers through a door that came out in the front of the courtroom off to the side. I was in handcuffs and my grandmother was in the courtroom seating. I felt so ashamed for her to see me like that. The judge announced my name and crime then he asked for my plea. “Guilty your honor” I said. “Mr. Miller this is a serious offense I don’t know what you were thinking but I think you know now it was wrong. Because you have no prior criminal record and you are employed and have a place to live I am going to sentence you to three years probation as well as a $1000 dollar fine and you are to pay back James Colton $500 for his income tax refund” he slammed his gavel down.

I was immediately lead back to my holding cell to be released. It’s a very strange feeling when a huge chunk of stress suddenly comes off of you, but I was feeling it then. All I knew was I was not going to prison. I could be good for three years and I had the money for the fines in my bank account. No problem.

I sat in my cell and waited for my release. I waited and I waited and I waited. First an hour then two then three.” What the fuck is going on” I thought. There was no one around to ask and no one was coming back to my area. Finally an officer came back in and I asked him what was going on “Officer I’ve been in here since 2:00p.m. waiting to be released can you find out what the problem is?” I asked “Since 2:00p.m.” he said “Yeah!” “What’s your name? he asked “Keith Miller” “Hold on I’ll go find out.” “Thanks man.” About another half an hour later he came back to my holding cell with the news. “Mr. Miller!” “Yes sir” “Your still under arrest” he said “What! for what!” I yelled. “Apparently you have a traffic ticket that you haven’t payed and it’s gone to warrant.” “FUCK!” I yelled. The officer turned and walked out the door. “WAIT!” I screamed but he didn’t come back. I thought of my poor grandmother out there waiting for me. “She’s out there wondering why I’m not released yet.” Then about another hour later the same officer came back to my cell and said “Mr. Miller your free to go now” as he unlocked my cell. I walked out into the same office that I started this fucked up day in and saw Thelma standing there. “Are you alright?” She asked “Kinda” I said. “Lets go home” “Thats the best thing I’ve heard all day grandma.”

“As we both rode back to Newbury Park in the Camaro I asked Thelma what was going on with her while I was stuck inside the jail. “Well I waited for about two hours and then I asked someone what was going on with your release. They got back to me about an hour later and told me about that ticket you didn’t pay. I asked how much is the bail and they told me $1000 dollars. So I decided to call your Uncle Tom at the District Attorney’s office, he pulled some strings to get you out free and clear.” “Oh yeah uncle Tom” I thought to myself. He had worked his way up through LAPD to an assistant to the District Attorney.

“Thanks grandma” I said with deepest sincerity. “Your welcome. Now do you have anymore surprises?” “UUuuhhhhhh not that I’m aware of.” I half jokingly said. We stopped at Dupars Restaurant in Thousand Oaks on the way home and had dinner. It had been a long day and we both had work tomorrow.

“Grandma Drove a Porsche” part one

We come from the land of the ice and snow, from the midnight sun where the hot springs blow… “Led Zeppelin, Immigrant Song”

So according to my calendar today is the first day of winter or the winter solstice. The shortest day of the year. Once a very celebrated and mystical day in ancient cultures.

I walked home on that wet and rainy night on New Years Eve thinking about the state of affairs my life was in and I knew I had to do something about it. I was just heading down a dead end road with no direction home, a complete unknown, like a rolling stone. I needed help from someone but who? Who really cared about me? Who would say “come stay with me till you get up on your feet” Then it hit me! But staying with her meant no drugs, no drinking and no weed. Weed is not a drug. Pills and needles are drugs. I would have to be clean and sober if I wanted her help. The more I thought about it the more excited I became, as soon as I got back to my little house on Hillrose I called my grandmother even though it was 12:50a.m.

My Grandmother on my moms side was named Thelma Louise Iddings she was the mother of three children Joyce, Lois, and Dale. My mother was Lois. So my grandmother buried a daughter and I buried a mother just three weeks earlier. My grandmother was a very attractive women of Spanish descent her maiden name being Belardez. She was single but had a regular suitor for several years, a handsome gentleman named George. The two of them traveled and played golf regularly. She lived in Newbury Park California next to Thousand Oaks.

I called information and was able to get my grandmothers phone number and gave her a call. She answered the phone with a groggy “Hello?” “Hi grandma it’s me Keith” I said. “Oh hi Keith how are you is everything OK?” her voice snapped right back into alertness. “Yeah well sorta.” I replied. “What is it?” she said. “Grandma I need to get out of this place. I need to get away from here. It’s not a good place to be. I was wondering if I could stay with you awhile?” “Absolutely. I would love to have you come and stay. I have that extra bedroom, it’s small but you can use it. When do you want to come out?” she said. “Tomorrow?” I said hoping it wasn’t to sudden. “Thats fine I’ll come out and pick you up.” she said. “No I’ll drive out myself” “In what? she said. “In my truck” I replied. “What kind of truck?” “My 48 Ford” “You won’t need it” she said “OK I’ll just leave it here.

“The next morning my grandmother showed up at my place I was packed with just my clothes, some sundries, my surfboard and of course that Indian rug. Now one thing my grandmother loved was nice cars not big luxury cars but sports cars. Cars that were fast. When I was little she had a Porsche SC that I would love to ride in with her. I remember once going somewhere with her on the freeway and she said “This is a very well made car Keith you can tell buy just holding on to the steering wheel and turning it just a little bit” She very lightly turned the wheel from right to left and back again and the car responded to every nudge. “Here you try it” she said. I reached over put my seven year old hand on the wheel and turned it just a little as her Porsche swerved suddenly. “She what I mean?” she said. But now she was driving a 1968 Chevy Camaro SS with a 327 V8 and a factory 4 speed. Instead of European finesse it was American muscle. I put my bags in the back seat and slid my surfboard and the rug into the small trunk and tied them down with some rope. Then with the tail of my surfboard and the rug hanging out the back of my grandmothers Camaro I left Sunland/Tujunga California never ever to return again.

We drove through the valley and got on the Hollywood Freeway to the 101 Freeway westbound all the way out to Newbury park which is just before the Conejo grade drops down into Camarrillo and the Oxnard plain. I was now living only 24 miles away from the ocean less than 30 minutes by car. But I didn’t have a car I left my truck back on “The Rock” which was how I would refer to my old hometown from now on as “The Rock.

“Life at Granny’s was pretty boring the first couple weeks. She went to work I watched daytime TV. Then one day she came home from work and told me she had scheduled a job interview for me. “Really!” I said “Yes really, I’m taking you with me tomorrow morning for an interview.” she said. “Thats great, thanks grandma!” I was really excited about the opportunity to work for Northrup Aviation. A good company with great pay! I went to bed early and got a good nights sleep. I awoke fresh and ready to interview. That morning I rode to work in the Camaro with grandma at the wheel. She dropped me off in front of the Corporate Office, a big concrete and glass building with three very tall flag poles flying three giant flags, the State of California, the United States and one Northrup Corporate flag. The people entering the building were all dressed in suits and ties and the women were wearing dress suits and heals. It was all very formal, conservative and a little intimidating. From the outside it was one of those places that made you think, “I wonder how you get a job in there?” So I walked in wearing my grey corduroy pants and my best button down shirt. I approached the receptionist and gave the name of the person I was to talk to.

One week later I was an employee of Northrup Aviation. I was working in the fiberglass fabrication area. I sanded the excess fiberglass and resin off of parts to be used as air ducts in aircraft. I would stand at a work station in a white suit that covered me from head to toe. I wore a respirator over my nose and mouth with safety glasses covering my eyes and latex gloves on my hands. The sleeves of my suit were also taped around my wrists to keep the fiberglass dust out. For eight hours a day I would sand parts with a hand held rotary electric sander. Despite the protective gear the fiberglass dust still managed to get into any little crack in your armor that it could find. I was itching all the time. But the pay was good and I didn’t have anything else to do so I worked and worked and worked. I offered my grandmother rent but she refused. “You just save your money” she said. So thats what I did I put every dime I made into the bank and pretty soon I had a pretty good lump of money saved up. I was clean, sober, employed and rich.

Then one day after work my grandmother and I were having supper when the phone rang. I answered it and the voice on the other end said in a stern authoritative voice “Am I speaking to Mr. Keith Miller?” “Speaking” I replied. “This is the Federal Secret Service Office in Los Angeles and we would like you to come down to our office for some questioning as soon as possible.” I couldn’t speak for awhile, I was thinking real fast through the rolodex in my head. “What have I done lately that I might be caught for? the voice on the other end of the phone came back, “Do you have any idea what this might be about Mr. Miller?” “Ahhhh, Ahh” and then it hit me like a ton of bricks and the man on the other end new it. “Mr. Miller you can come down tomorrow on your own accord or we can send a car out tonight to bring you in which would you prefer?” “I’ll be down tomorrow morning” I said. “Fine” the man said and he hung up. Now all I had to do was tell my grandmother about some baggage that I had forgotten about.