Date:                           May 31, 2007            

Location:                    Watsonville, CA                   

1000:

            Hypocrisy is a bitter pill to swallow and a much more troublesome dinner on which to dine.  While I was perusing my daily blogs and accomplishing my normal morning routine I accidentally stumbled into an “All you can eat” buffet of hypocrisy.  I must sadly admit that the source of this behavior that bothered me most was my own opinions.  I found myself on the horns of a dilemma.  I was, seemingly, in support of a group that I abhor because of their close minded bigotry and on the side of a travesty called a political leader and Vice President of this country.  It was not a comfortable position on my part.

            This all centers around a photo of two grandparents proudly holding their new grandchild and proclaiming to the world the pleasure they feel in the birth of this child to their daughter.  This is a position that few of us would ever question and most of us have proudly experienced.  I can even appreciate the normal human emotion expressed by this proud grandfather, a man that I find reprehensible on so many levels.  I fully understand the love and pride that these new grandparents expressed as they, on an official White House web site, congratulated the parents, Mary and Heather, of this new child.  I do not find, from my perspective, a dose of hypocrisy in this position.

            The conflicting point of view comes from the group of ultra right wing nut wackos that find it impossible to understand how 2 women can be named parent’s of a child.  I will not waste my time, or yours, restating their ridiculous, bigoted, and stupid premises for this opinion.  It is theirs, I disagree and that is just how that is.  My problem is that I agree whole heartedly with their anger with Mr. Cheney, the disgrace of a Vise President that was smiling and holding this wonderful child.  I was reading this story of bigoted hate and agreeing that they had a right to be angry.  I do not agree that the definition of a parent has anything to do with the ability to donate sperm to any receivable orifice.  The biological DNA donor may well be the person that gives or receives the sperm but that does not in any way make them a parent.  It makes them a sperm donor.  A tractor placing seeds in the dirt does not make it a radish, nor does it make that machine responsible for the nurturing of the plant.  It is the farmer, the climate, the soil nutrients, the love of Mother Nature that raises that child of the earth.  As it is the nurturing of a child by the people in their lives that truly deserve the title of parent.  A parent raises a child over many years of trials and tribulations, some success and often too many failures.  A sperm donor gets a slap and a tickle and a bottle of beer, unless they happen to take on the full mantle of responsibility called parenting.

            Yet here I was agreeing with the anger felt by this bigoted hate group.  You see, they elected this smiling grandfather because they thought that he hated people just like they do.  They thought that his mind was just a shallow and filled with bigotry as was theirs.  They thought this because that is what he told them and still does on a daily basis.  They were lied to by the same disgrace in a suit as was the rest of the world.  They have their feelings hurt; the rest of the world has a pile of dead bodies to reckon for their pain.

            I congratulate the Cheney’s on their new grandson and I wish Mary and Heather much good luck on the daunting task of raising a child in this world.  I caution them on letting the grandparents get too involved in the guiding of their child.  He has a record of lying to the people that support him, lying to the people that he has sworn to protect and manipulating the world to solely profit his own pockets and those pockets of the cabal that orchestrated his election.  Certainly, Mary and Heather, never let your child go hunting with his alcoholically challenged grandfather and his drunken mistress.

            I do honestly wish the new family well and I am working on my passing ailment of hypocrisy as I enjoy the quandary that I see as the far right wing nuts of the Republican Party try to figure out how they were so blatantly misled by their hero. 

Date:                           May 30, 2007            

Location:                    Watsonville, CA                   

2230:

            After a very long and at sometimes less than enjoyable weekend I feel a need to reflect on many thoughts and feelings.  The frustrations of this weekend are derived mostly from the simple fact that it was a holiday weekend and the campground was fully occupied.  It was also the first chance for our team of college students to show their metal.  I must sadly admit that the team of young kids proved to be more kids than a collection of serious young adults that want to work at having fun.  The whole of that story is long and boring and not worth relating.  The story does have a moment that occurred on Fishermen’s Wharf in Monterey that has me talking to the campground manager on my cell phone about a meeting that I had called for the team early Tuesday morning.  It happened to be a day off for most of the team and I was not planning on paying for the time spent at the meeting.  The conversation went something like “My way or the highway.”

            The meeting took place on Tuesday morning at 8:00 am.  The team was very quiet and sullen and I was very firm with my direction.  I called it a meeting of “Team Effective Training.”  For now Connie and I are still here and I guess for now it will remain “My way.”  The weekend is over, the love affair of the group of kids with me may well be over, and, just maybe, the kids are learning how to be adults.  All of this has little to do with what caused me to postulate on my blog, but it does a fine job of catching you up with my life.

            After my business lunch phone call on Monterey’s Fisherman’s Wharf Connie and I ventured to the end of the pier.  We needed a break in our routine and walking along a holiday crowded pier in the sun of the Pacific Ocean seemed like a great place to accomplish just that.  The sea breezes helped clear our minds and the shoulder to shoulder crowd lent an air of festivity to our stroll.  To attempt to describe the beauty of Monterey Bay from our vantage point is so pointless I can not begin to attempt the futile chore.  I can only say that the myths of charm and beauty are so much under rated it is almost a crime to use tem as a description.  This is the city that can, and does, charge you just to drive along its streets to enjoy the views of Mother Nature.  They do that just because they can and there is a long line of people waiting to pay because it is worth it.  This is Monterey, this is Pebble Beach, this is Carmel by the Bay, this is all that and more.  This is where Connie and I are spending the summer.

            It was while walking on the pier that a moment of reflection passed through our lives that I must share.  It was a holiday and as entertainment on the pier a jazz/rock band had set up on the end of the pier and was offering some free music for all of the passers by.  The band was a group of 9 musicians that had a slight Blood Sweat and Tears sound and were drawing quite a large crowd of enjoyers.  Connie and I joined the throng to share in the enjoyment of the entertainment.  It was while we were listening and enjoying the music spreading along the pier that I noticed a very wonderful event.  Most of the people listening to the music, if not nearly all of the people, had smiles on their faces.  It may not have been an ear to ear I just got my pet pony smile, but it was a smile of brightness that shone on them as they bopped and danced to the melodic rhythms.

            In a time when most people wear constant frowns, we were enjoying the rhythmic music of a group of slightly over the hill BS&T wannabes that were causing these same people to shine with the hint of a smile.  Toes were tapping, buns were bopping and even some were dancing on the pier as this free sample of enjoyment filled the air and lightened the hearts of all that were fortunate enough to be in the right place at the right time.  We, as a crowd, had all found a reason to not frown and a reason to find a few moments to actually enjoy the wonder of being alive. 

            I am not sure why this moment seemed to be so meaningful to me on this day.  It was Memorial Day and we all were reminded of the reason for the day.  We all knew about the overt senseless loss of life called “A war on Terror” being fought at the direction of an incompetent buffoon.  In a moment of reflection and loss we, as a gathered crowd, found a smile that came from our inner soul and floated to our faces on the notes of this pick up jazz band.  There must be a lesson to learn from this.

            Just maybe if we all turned off Fox News, CNN or any other pseudo news organization and instead pulled out our old BS&T records we might find a few more smiles in our lives.  I am not idealistic or naïve enough to believe that this would fix all of our problems, but I do know that it felt great to stand on the pier in Monterey Bay and dance to the rhythm as smiles shone around me. 

Date:                           May 23, 2007

Location:                    Watsonville, CA                   

0800:

            The “weekends” that Connie and I have free from our work time are often not on the traditional Saturday and Sunday.  This week, our weekend was really on Monday and Tuesday.  This may be a bit confusing to the rut oriented working members of our society, but to we retired, nomadic children it is quite normal. As a friend once told me; “Every day is Saturday and tomorrow is Sunday.”  On this Saturday Connie and I decided to explore, yet another California Sate Park.

            This park is just down the road and, of course, on the beach.  We did not realize it until we parked our car and trudged the 6 feet or less to our beach side picnic table but we were in or very near Rio del Mar. This is a small sea side town with a large flat beach area and a collecting spot for many sunset worshippers.  We were at the beach long before the sun was ready to give up the pleasure of a 70 degree day and we were enjoying the awe of the slightly energetic ocean as it slapped at the beach shore line.

            Connie had made one of her characteristic fantastic picnic lunches and I was stationed at the bar-b-que podium flipping some great burgers.  All of this with a 60 foot cliff behind us covered in flowers and sea grasses and a long sandy beach in front of us leading to the glistening Pacific Ocean.  The temperature was in or near the mid 70s and we were quite pleased.  For some reason the burgers tasted great and the salad was fantastic.  We had purchased some special bread for burger buns and Connie and packed just the right additions to our food menu to make the picnic awesome.  We were having a great Saturday on this Tuesday.

            It was kind of interesting to see the reactions as Connie and I stayed in our “campground” demeanor.  That is, we said hello to the people as they walked on the beach walk in front of our picnic site.  This is a normal exercise in a campground, but in the “normal” world we all seem to want to stay in our own little solitary shell.  Some of the people nearly stumbled as they broke stride to respond to our “hello” or “nice day,” but they all seemed to enjoy the simple recognition of their existence.  The banter back an forth was not monumental but as the beach strolling sun enjoyers continued on their way, they seem to have a bit more of a smile and maybe a little more spring in their step. It is nice to be noticed and to notice someone in return.

            After lunch we spent the day reading and trying to capture as much sun as is humanly possible.  We also watched flock after flock of pelicans practice their close order flying drills as they soared over head and skimmed the waves of the ocean as they searched for their afternoon meal.  I made an absolute pig out of myself as I devoured a container of fresh strawberries as my picnic lunch dessert.  Did I mention that Watsonville is the strawberry capital of the USA?  Am I in heaven or just in the neighborhood?

            It may not seem like we had a very exciting day.  Setting and reading most of the day and flipping a couple of burgers on the grill may seem a bit boring for a weekend excursion.  It may seem mundane until you add the context of where it was enjoyed.  We are on Monterey Bay in very sunny California, our feet were buried in the sands of the Pacific Ocean and the waves of the ocean are a rhythmically pounding surf symphony playing in front of us.  And, did I mention that we are less than 5 miles from our home?  If I was not so happy to be here I would feel sorry that you are not.  I do wish that more of you deprived multitudes could personally see the beauty that we enjoy; feel the warmth of a glistening sun as it slowly slides toward a sparkling ocean; and smell the salt and flowers of the west coast beaches.  I truly do wish you the pleasures and wonders of our everyday existence here along the Monterey Bay shore line, but I don’t have room in my heart to feel any negative energy.  I just can feel the pleasures of being where it seems I should have been all of my life.  Every day is a weekend or a holiday, and everyday is yet another stroll through paradise.   

Date:                           May 22, 2007

Location:                    Watsonville, CA                   

0830:

            A home is not a home until you make an attempt to make it just that.  It was our chance, today, at making an attempt to make Santa Cruz KOA, site 57, our home on a beautiful day in May in sunny California.  That is a very verbose way of saying we had some chores to do, and the weather was all too fantastic.

            Connie had her weekly chore of making our clothes presentable to the world and I had the pleasure of working outside our home on our large plot of land.  Yes, I had to cut the grass and trim the hedges.  It very literally took me longer to ride down to the maintenance area and get the equipment then it did to accomplish the job.  We are, after all, in a campground and the RV covers up most of our site.  I did get the mower and push it back and forth a couple of times and pretend that I was mowing a lawn.  I actually mowed our neighbor’s site also, because they decided to leave quite abruptly and now we have a vacant lot next to us.  It still took me longer to type these facts then it took me to accomplish them.

            Connie spent the morning in the laundry doing whatever it is women do in those places.  She also spent some time in a women’s coffee clutch with our campground general manager doing whatever it is women do in those situations also.  By the end of the morning we had clean clothes, my wife had become a confidant, sort of, with our new boss, and I had trimmed trees, mowed grass and made our site a bit more ours.  It must be time to play.

            After a grueling morning of enjoying the sunshine and cool breezes of Monterey Bay Connie and I decided that we needed a break and a lunch.  We did not want to be extravagant so we just went a very few miles down the road to a small dinning establishment that we happen to enjoy and that has provided us with more than one great meal.  It just so happens that this restaurant is located at the end of the pier in Santa Cruz and just down the street from the world famous Santa Cruz Boardwalk.  Is life great or what?  We had our lunch of red snapper in jalapenos and salsa and an order of fish and chips watching the Pacific Ocean explode its waves on the coast of the Monterey Bay with the gleeful cheers of summer emanating from the, now very active, boardwalk beach area.  Yes the beach is lined with sand volley ball courts and yes they courts are filled with sun tanned glisten bodies of young sun worshippers. I think there might have a few male volleyball enthusiasts, I am not really sure.

            After lunch we decided to explore another state park, this one just a couple of miles up the coast from our pier.  If you have ever seen a travel brochure for this part of California you have seen a surfer approaching a large hole in a rock as the glistening white spray of crashing waves explodes on the shore line.  That picture was taken at Natural Bridges State Park in Santa Cruz and that is where we spent the afternoon.  There were no movie crews or surfers at the beach during our visit, but the waves were just as dramatic and the natural bridge of sandstone is truly beautiful. We have found that around here you do not have to doctor a picture to make it breath taking you just have to stop and enjoy the majesty of Mother Nature’s true beauty.

            Let me see if I can kind of recap our day; we did some minor house chores that seemed more like a pleasure than a duty; we enjoyed the gentle cool breezes of the Pacific Ocean as we ventured forth to tackle what might pass as lawn chores; we had a fantastic lunch listening to the chorus of sea lions and pelicans as we sat over the pounding surf of the ocean and we strolled on the beach in an area that is so beautiful that it is a classic photo opportunity for every tourist brochure made in this area.  All of this was less then 15 miles from our parked home.  Yep, that pretty much describes our very normal day at the Santa Cruz KOA.  Is there any question as to why we are here?

            By the way, I forgot to mention that after returning home from a beautiful day in Santa Cruz we decided to pack a bottle of wine, a few crackers, a sampling of hummus and proceed to the Sunset Beach State Park and wish good day to the sun as it slid behind the coast line of the beach we had spent the day enjoying.  Life in Santa Cruz is a bottle of wine, a beach being washed with the white splashes of the Pacific surf, the explosions of red as the sun slides behind the horizon and your best friend next to you helping you enjoy the beauty and wonder of this reality.  As I heard a visiting camper say last weekend; “This area has to be the greatest place in the world to live.  The only place that might come close to this is heaven.”  I will not say that this is not an exaggeration, nor do I find much in his statement with which I disagree.

Date:                           May 20, 2007

Location:                    Watsonville, CA                   

1130:

            Hello world, we are still here and still playing at the Santa Cruz KOA.  We have been spending the last week getting acquainted with our new team members and preparing for the reality of a busy summer at a very busy KOA campground that just happens to be on the coast of Monterey Bay in California.

            The new team members that we met this week are young college kids that have been lucky enough to land a position at this KOA for the summer.  They are going to be very involved in the activity aspects of our campground as well as actually working during the week at the normal needs of a very large and busy park. So far they have been getting acquainted with the other workers at the park and the fun of being on the activity team.  I am sure that reality will approach them as the days unfold and they are expected to actually work for a few hours.  Yesterday they spent their first real “working day” playing with the kids and the parents of our rather large camping weekend crowd.  An overheard conversation kind of  describes their experience to this point:

“It is great to be in California and so near the ocean.”

“Yeah, we are bouncing on this large inflated jumping pillow and riding the train all day while having fun with the kids.”

“I can’t believe that we are getting paid for this.”

            I must admit that, at times, there are more than one or two adults that might have those same thoughts running through their grey haired heads.

            To this point we have been very impressed with the energy and demeanor of the young people that are going to be spending the next 3 months with us.  It is kind of a spirit lifting comfort to see that there are good, energetic, respectful young people preparing to venture into the world and carry on the job of societal evolution.  There are things that, I am sure, my generation did not do as well at as they should have but we did try to our best most of the time.  It is nice to see that the next generation is far better prepared to enter the real world than we might be led to think if we used the square box of distorted pictures that beams into our living room each evening as our only source of information.  If you look at the world through your TV set, you are really not seeing much beyond the back of your set.  You do really need to get out and meet the wonderful people that make up our country, both young and not so young.

            It is almost time for Connie and me to go to a Rah Rah meeting on how to be KOA employees and to set a good example of “Making it GREAT at the KOA.”  This is, quite honestly, not our favorite part of working at a “COP” (Company Owned Property,” but it is a requirement.  It is also proof that into each dream a dose of reality must be added.   It is time for us to sample our latest dose of KOA reality.  Plus we have a short meeting with our KOA Crew to let them know what a super job they did on their first day as fun enthusiast. 

Date:                           May 14, 2007

Location:                    Watsonville, CA                   

1000:

            It has been a long time since I have taken the opportunity to use my space to vent and share my ever so valuable opinions with those in cyberspace that happen upon my little territory of the internet that is called Auroa313.Spaces. Live.Com.  For those of you that have no desire to read my diatribe, you are forewarned.  For the few of you that choose to continue and read on, you are also warned and will just have to accept that these are my opinions and so be it.

            This weekend Connie and I had a lot of time to interact with many different people and many different cultures as we experienced our first relatively busy time at our new home.  We were at the registration desk for most of Friday afternoon and until closing Friday night, which allowed us to greet and meet most of the 200 plus families that had paid to enjoy a weekend at the Santa Cruz KOA.  This campground is not a cheap place to spend time, although it does offer an enormous amount of amenities and a very large staff to help you enjoy your stay.  The value of the stay is pretty much a subjective personal opinion, but we are, already, nearly full for the whole summer.  I must conclude form that business fact that the value of this park is well appreciated by many of the Californian and traveling campers.  If you have not made a reservation at least a year in advance we can not guarantee you your favorite site, and may not be able to find a site for you on our busiest weekends.

            It is from the interaction with families and campers this weekend that I draw my need to express a few thoughts and opinions.  These thoughts and opinions may, and probably will, change as the year progress, but as I, in the future, read my own blog I may want to remember this time, and how I felt at the time with fresh memories.  You will just have to suffer with my ramblings or surf to another site now and find a better way to waste your fifteen minutes on the web.

            Our weekend was a special opportunity for many families.  The promotion being run by the KOA Corporation was for a free night of camping if you stayed Friday night. That may not seem like a lot to some of you, but at this park that free night was worth over a hundred dollars and offered an opportunity to experience the Santa Cruz KOA to some families that might have not chosen to in the past or in the near future.  It was also a chance for some that could well afford a stay here to save a couple of dollars.  All of the profits from this weekend were donated, by KOA, to Care Campgrounds around the country to provide a place for children with cancer to experience an adventure in the outdoors.  Children that are living the enormous stress of dealing with a disease that is trying to bring an abrupt end to their lives can and do need a chance to be normal, or at least as close to that feeling as they can possibly reach.  A chance to allow a family that is suffering the imminent reality of the loss of a child the few moments of joy that can be felt in a campground is a fantastic charity and one that Connie and I chose to contribute some of our surplus blessings.  It is especially meaningful to us because we have a Care Camp located near our home on Keuka Lake in New York.

            It was while I was standing in the serving line on Sunday that my fire for this blog was ignited.  It does not really have a lot to do with this past weekend, nor does it specifically have a lot to do with children with cancer.  It is not about the financial disparity so evident in a country that seems to be run for the few, by the few at the cost of the many middle class suffering.  It is not about the family that could not afford to stay at our campground but could only walk around just to see the festivities and dream about when they might be able to plan vacation and hopefully return to actually stay at the Santa Cruz KOA instead of at the local state park just down the road.  It is also not about the arrogant family of 40 or fifty that rented more than 10 cabins at nearly 200 dollars each per night for the weekend and then paid over a hundred dollars to rent a another site just to have a place to have a campfire.  You can only imagine which family I have more compassion toward.

            My diatribe is about a conversation that I had while placing sausages on the plates of sleepy eyed campers at our Mother’s Day pancake breakfast.  One of the other servers and I were passing he few idle moments chatting about this and that and interacting with the campers as they passed through the food line.  At some point our conversation, Bill’s and mine, turned to our time in the armed service and our experiences.  Bill is a year or two senior to me and was relating the human cost of the Korean War to me as I was more aware of the loss experienced during the Vietnam era.  The numbers are, as I am sure you are very aware, quite astounding and in my humble, but deeply felt opinion, a criminal waste of humanity.  As we compared stories and numbers of over 100,000 deaths between these two incursions into hell it came to my mind that it was not just the dead bodies in southeast Asia that we must keep in our thoughts.  Just as we are spending this weekend to serve the dying children of present day cancer inflictions we are also attempting to keep the suffering families of these children in our hearts.  It is from this thought that I leapt to the response to Bill about the over 100,000 deaths in these wars. I told him that it is not just over one hundred thousand deaths that we must never forget.  It is the hundred thousand families that are still suffering the loss of a loved one, a son, a daughter, a father, a mother, a brother, a sister, or a friend that we must keep in our thoughts.

            Even today we callously hear the causality figures of a war on the evening news and continue on with our lives as if they mean little.  5 dead here or a car bomb there; a few soldiers lost yesterday or a tortured prisoner dies in Cuba and all we care about, seemingly, is how Paris Hilton will send her drunken weekend.  Are we, as a society, that callous and unfeeling?  Can we really forget the families that are weeping uncontrollably over the loss of their son or daughter?  I do not care if that family is white in southern Alabama or a darker beige colored family from a tenement east of Bagdad, or if they are the family of a black young man that had so few other option available to him other than to enlist in an Army that is under funded, ill equipped and poorly lead by fat cat money grubbers that found multiple ways to cheat their service obligation to this country when we all were forced from our families to challenge death in far away places.

            Bill and I both agreed that the real loss of any war is not just the body bag count that may or may not make the evening news.  It is the continuing effect and pain that those long lines of coffins, that are for some reason, not viewable by the public that should be understood and remembered by we safe citizens of this country.  It is also not just the dead and the families of these lost souls that we should keep in our hearts, it also the partially dead that this administration seems to ignore and mistreat that we should remember.  We must also remember the poor living soldier that returns to his lovely wife or girlfriend with much less of a body than he had when left, that we must continue to place in our minds conscious thought.  We must never forget the pain and anguish that this soldier and also his family must now face as they attempt to piece together a life of disability and shattered dreams.

            We all know that “War is Hell.”  But, I feel the real hell is suffered by the living and not the sacrificed.  The next time you hear a casualty figure on the news, for just a moment, think about the family that is now weeping and suffering a pain that is beyond description as they attempt to struggle through the loss of a loved part of their lives.  I do not care if those tears trail down a white face, a black face or a swarthy colored face of a human sufferer that is wailing in a language that I do not understand.  Each of these tears is burning with a pain that no one will ever fully understand.  I have lost a father, a mother and a son and I know that my pain is a personal pain.  It may be a universal pain, but when it is felt it is a very personal pain.  I will, however, take a moment to struggle at sympathizing with the loss that these families feel as they face the tragedy that has been forced upon them.

            The arrogant failure that resides in Washington that led us into this present war dishonestly, and quite possible illegally, has no plan for finding an immediate and abrupt end to the carnage that is taking place in his name, and yet 1 in 3 still agree with him.  As low as that rating is in American history, I can not believe that that many stupid people walk the streets of this country.  Hang up your Republican or Democratic hat and place on your shoulders the wailing cloth of a family attempting to struggle with the reality of a dead member of their house or a dismembered husband or wife attempting to face a life of pain and disability and then try to honestly answer the question of, “Is this travesty of human suffering really worth the pain?”  “Do we need to throw another trillion dollars into the pockets of the rich and pious as they raise gas prices to $4.00 a gallon just because they can?” 

            “Has not this administration murdered, maimed and inflicted enough suffering and loss on the families of this country and the innocent families of this world?”

Date:                           May 13, 2007

Location:                    Watsonville, CA                   

1700:

            Connie and I were rudely awakened this morning by our nagging alarm clock.  It was early enough for us to beat the sun into the new day.  This is not a position that I would normally choose to enjoy, but today we had to go and help serve at the Sunday morning pancake breakfast at our Santa Cruz KOA.  As our first real busy week end comes to a close, we have almost felt like we do have a job a couple of times.  It is not because we are not still having fun, but rather because we are putting in so much time playing and having fun.  At our ripe old age we geriatrics tend to get tired a bit faster than most of the children that we have been entertaining.  Although as I stood in the serving line this morning I noticed a lot of very sleepy eyed children trailing behind their moms waiting for a sample of our famously large pancakes.

            After the last pancake had been served and the last sausage placed on the plate it was time for the staff to have their breakfast and enjoy a few moments of down time.  It is kind of neat to be associated with a team of fun loving, hard working people that not only enjoy the fellow campers at the park, but also enjoy the fellowship of each other.  It was interesting to see that the laughter and fun level at the staff table was at least as jubilant as any other table in the dining hall if not a bit higher.  We had all had a very busy weekend of playing and enjoying the campers and yet we still had time and energy to enjoy each other.  As I have said before and will, I am sure, say many more times, “If you are having fun it is not work.”

            As I ready to post my short blog update I would be tragically remiss if I did not wish all a very happy Mother’s Day.  My lovely wife has had calls from her children and fully enjoyed the wishes of love from them.  She has also tried to covey those same wishes to her mother, all be they to an answering machine because her mother seems to also have a life. 

It is with great sadness that I may only spiritually wish Happy Mother’s to my mom.  It is a selfish pain of remorse that I feel, as I do believe that she is in a much better place.  It is, as any child, that I wish that my mom could see and enjoy the fun and childish enjoyment that I am living at this senior time in my life.  I guess we never out grow the need to share our lives with our mom.

Date:                           May 11, 2007

Location:                    Watsonville, CA                   

1130:

            Life at the Santa Cruz KOA is getting really fun and exciting if you happen to be us.  We are beginning to feel what it is like to be at a premier campground that is but a stones throw away from the Pacific Coast and just down the road from where the “Lost Boys” walked on the boardwalk.  It is fast paced and very busy.  If one was of such a mind they might call it very hard work.  Connie and I are, presently, having too much fun to call it work.

            We have melded into the working rhythm of the campground quite easily.  We still have a lot to learn but we are doing our training under fire as we prepare for our Come Camp and Care week end.  That is a weekend that KOA donates all of their profits to campgrounds for children with cancer and to guarantee that there is a lot of public participation they give away a free nights camping to anyone that stays Friday night.   In this campground that is a gift worth over $100.00.  Yes, that is one hundred dollars for one night s camping at this KOA on a normal weekend.  I told you it was nice place and near the ocean.

            Connie is shouldering more and more responsibility as only she can.  She is not only getting ready to “guide” the activity director this summer, she is also organizing the group party scheduling for the campground.  Our campground manager here seems to realize the talent that she has at her beckon call, and is allowing my wife to work as hard as she wants.  Connie is having fun and Sally is getting a lot of talent for a very little bit of money.  Believe it or not, they are both happy with the arrangement.  They both have more energy than that silly rabbit with the battery up his wazoo.  My chore is to stay out of the way so that I don’t get run over or consumed in the dust and maybe help my wife with a bit of PC programming.

            I am just playing and having more fun than a human being should be allowed to have.  I must admit that, at times, I seem to pass myself as I run in never ending circles, but I am having fun all the time.  I have a great time talking with the customers, both the ones that could care less about dropping 300 dollars for one week end, or the ones that think that they can stay at a hotel for a lot less than we charge for a tent site.  If I am not on the phone trying to explain why it cost nearly a hundred dollars to pitch a tent I am driving my little train around the campground, ringing my brass bell and tooting my steam, sounding, whistle.  It is hard to believe that a 60 year old child could have more fun.

            It is about time for us to go and check in some 180 families that think a few hundred dollars is a fair amount to spend to come and play with us for a weekend.  Tomorrow morning Connie and I will don our activity uniforms and head to the “Hub” where all of the fun playing is going to be taking place.  I think that we are scheduled to “work” about 11 or 12 hours.  In reality we are going to get to play all day at a very nice camping resort that is on the Pacific Ocean and it is going to cost us nothing.  Actually they are giving us a few pennies to spend along with one of their premier sites to place our home; one of those 100 dollar a night sites to place our bus and call it home.  Sometimes life is just not fare and sometimes you are having too much fun to care.  Connie and I are truly “California Dream’n” for real.

Date:                           May 8, 2007  

Location:                    Watsonville, CA                   

0915:

            As exciting and beautiful as our first day off this week was, it can not be compared to the day we had for our second day of rest and relaxation.  The weather was just as wonderful and maybe just a bit warmer.  It was such a beautiful day that my wife and I decided that we should do our weekly and monthly chores around our house. And I will bet that you thought that I was going to regale to you another hedonistic excursion into California enjoyment.  Into each life of pleasure and wonder a little reality must be added to appreciate the adventure.  Today was our dose of reality.

            We did start our day off with a trip to Gilroy, the garlic capitol of the world.  This could have been an excursion into exploration, but it was not.  It was an excursion into the closest Super Wal-Mart to our new home.  One must keep the larder supplied and sometimes it is financially wise to search out the closest Wally World.  We were successful on many levels.  We helped the stock of  Wal-Mart elevate and we filled our poor truck/car/friend Chianti.  We did not, however, purchase any special meats or fish.  There is just too much good stuff, all be it a bit pricey, around us to even think about buying our steaks or fresh fish from Wally World.  We did purchase a new Weed-Eater.  How exciting is that?  I told you we were on a reality check.

            On our way home Connie decided that we should have some fresh strawberries and since Watsonville just happens to be the strawberry capitol of the USA, we were in luck.  The climate around here is almost always warm and the growing season is about 14 months a year it is quite easy to find very fresh produce.  Connie and I now have a local produce market listed in Sackee and we can have fresh strawberries any time we want.  And I will bet you were wondering why we love this place.  By the way, we purchased a big bunch on fresh flower also for our motorhome.  Yep, we are in the cut flower center of the US also.  The half flat of huge juicy red strawberries cost us the large sum of eight dollars.  That is six pints of picture perfect juicy delicious strawberries for little more than a dollar a pint.  Is this a fantastic place to be, or what?

            Our day may not have been one of pure excitement and wonder. We did not take a breath taking drive along the coast of the Pacific.  We did not visit 2000 year old centuries that tower well over 200 feet in to the moist sea air up the side of lush mountains.  We did not even walk along the beach and watch the sun slide colorfully into the briny sea.  We did, however, pay our monthly bills, do our laundry and weed whack the hell out of our new home camp site.  To finish the day we had calico bay scallops cooked in butter and garlic sauce along with a special bottle of New Mexico white wine.  We also, of course, had a dessert of fresh strawberries to eat red juice to wipe from our chins as we devoured these local delicacies.   It way not have been an overly memorable day, but it was a day of memories.

Date:                           May 7, 2007  

Location:                    Watsonville, CA                   

0900:

            Life is simple and pleasant at the Santa Cruz KOA and it is our day off, which makes it even more wonderful.  My lovely wife made a simple picnic lunch and we purchased a rather expensive sirloin steak that looked fantastic and we decided to head off on an exploratory adventure.  The beautiful weather of California is quite often hiding above a thick marine layer, or as we from the northeast call it, “fog.”  As we awoke on our day off the air was crisp and clean and the sky was a deep blue with a very gentile warm breeze.  It was starting out to be a perfect day along the coast of California and we had the day off to explore.

            If you have not had the pleasure of driving along the coast of the Pacific Ocean on California Highway 1, you have missed one of nature’s most wonderful experiences and one of the most beautiful stretches of roadway in this country. I am constantly reminded by my wife that we have some pretty country in New York, and I a heartily agree.  Yet, as you motor along a roadway that is sliced into the side of a mountain that is rushing drastically to the sea and the sun is glistening off the breaking white splashes of sea mist as the ocean crashes into the rugged coastline, it is difficult to think of anywhere else on earth.  The beauty and charm of this beautiful explosion of nature and earthly wonder does truly take your breath away.  Any west coast movie that you have ever seen does not come close to dong justice to the reality of seeing this awesome example of Mother Nature’s artistic beauty in its majestic reality.  It is not just the breath taking beauty that captures your heart it is, also, the winding, twisting, mountain climbing and canyon crossing road that will capture your heart and your breath as you hug the oceans edge while skirting mountains of lush trees and beautiful flowers.  This is the California that I have always dreamed of and this is one time that elevated expectations were not un-met, they are exceeded each and every turn in the road.

            If I might use one excursion that we took today to try and explain how beautiful and wonderful this trip can be.  We drove from our new home at the Santa Cruz KOA to Monterey, a scant few minutes south.  We are in the middle of the Monterey Bay coast line and Monterey and Carmel are at the southern tip of the bay.  While you are in Monterey the first sign that you see and that draws your attention is a direction to the “17 Mile Drive.”  To those of you who are unfamiliar with this scenic drive, and I truly pity you, it is a drive along the coast of the Monterey peninsula and by the Pebble Beach Golf Course.  We decided to take the drive, a second excursion on this road for us as we took this drive with our kids back in 1993, a full 14 years ago. 

            You say, “So what; a drive along a coastal peninsula.  Who cares?”  Obviously, you have never been here and experienced this 17 miles of beauty and wonder.  This 17 mile drive is through a gated community and you just pay $9.00 to enter.  Yes, it cost you over 50 cents a mile to drive around this community, and there is line of cars waiting to pay this stupid fee.  Personally I did not care about the houses or the holes in the lush green lawns, known as golf courses, but I did marvel at the awe and beauty of the crashing waves and the rugged coast line that this road and the many vistas offer.  Our poor new camera has a bad case of shutter pain as we could not help but snap picture after picture after picture.  Every where we looked was another wonderful view and a picture that will forever be etched in our minds and hopefully saved on our camera.  If it was not the charm of waves crashing over boulders in the sea, it was the plentiful sea birds soaring over head and along the rocky beaches.  It seemed that every time you placed the camera to your eye and made a futile attempt at capturing the beauty that lie before you, you would lower the box and turn but a few inches and see another scene that was just as awe inspiring if not more majestic than the one you had just viewed through your tiny window of a view finder.  To tell you that we managed to take nearly 150 pictures might give you a hint at the beauty that we were enjoying.  To tell you that as we came near the end of our 50 plus cent a mile drive we both agreed that, as silly as it sounds, the cost was well worth every penny might more accurately hint at the beauty that we had seen from this road way

            If I was to tell you that our day had ended as we exited the drive around Monterey you would believe that we had enjoyed a full and fantastic day, and you would be very correct.  Only, that was not to be our finish to this day of exploring.  We decided to continue further south on Highway 1 and experience the dramatic scenic charm of California for a little while longer.  We followed CA 1 as it meandered and explored the dramatic coast line through Big Sur and to the Lime Kiln State Park.  To describe this drive would be an exercise in redundancy, as I have already used most of my superlative adjectives and thoughts already.  It is still California: it is still a roadway that is precariously etched into a mountain range that juts into the ocean; and it is still a truly breath taking, and at times white knuckle, experience to enjoy.  It was also on the way to or private, ocean side restaurant table awaiting us on the beach in a secluded cove south of Big Sur.

            Do you remember the simple picnic lunch that I began this blog telling you about?  It was getting time to eat and we needed a picnic spot.  As beautiful and majestic as the California coast line is, there are stretches that are not conducive to beach picnics.  The mountains do actually run in to the sea and the cliffs can be from a 10s of feet high to hundreds of feet high and no beach or pleasant resting place between them.  This is what makes this drive so exciting and wonderful and what makes finding a beach side place for a picnic, at times, a challenge.  We did persevere and we left the Big Sur Mountains and forest area and my wife found a small state park on her map.  It was the Lime Kiln State Park.  I will not go on too long about the charm of this very small state park, because I think we will be returning many times and I can expound on its charm and beauty at that time.  I must, however tell you about our dinner.

            We arrived at this park and asked the ranger if we could take a barbeque on the beach.  The signs said no fires or camping, but we promised to leave nothing behind but memories and to be very careful with our small self contained hibachi of charcoal.  I guess I looked hungry, because the ranger agreed that if we promised to be careful and clean up after ourselves we could take our steak and our picnic to the beach and enjoy our dinner.  Connie and I were about to have one of those moments that linger in your mind and soul for a life time.  It may not be the best of anything, or the most dramatic event of our lives, but it will forever remain as a moment that will describe our lives and enjoyment forever.

            We set up our table and chairs in a small cove that is nestled along the coast line with towering rock ledges jutting into the sea.  The diamond sparkled waves of the Pacific crashed and exploded on to the rocks that protruded form the ocean floor just a few feet from our ocean side dinning table and we were warmed by the evening sun as it prepared to slide into the far horizon of the Pacific.  I was grilling our thick juicy steak over a few rocks as Connie prepared our table with the rest of our picnic, which, of course, included a bottle of red wine from Trader Joe’s.  There were actually some local fishermen down the beach feeding the array of sea birds with the remains of their days efforts as if to punctuate the unbelievable beauty and grandeur of this experience.  In a few moments my wife came to me with a glass of red wine, a smile and a toast to our pleasures and wonder at finding this small secluded haven to enjoy our picnic.

            The picnic was another of Connie’s master pieces, including hors d’oerves and our steak was tender and juicy.  This alone would be a description of a perfect picnic and yet it was but a small part of the experience.  We were sitting at a table a few feet from the Pacific Ocean watching and listening the breaking waves as they crashed into this rugged rocky coast line enjoying the last warmth of this wonderful day’s sun as it prepared to hide in the far reaching ocean’s horizon and we are but an hour or so from our home.  I can not begin to tell you the beauty that we felt and lived as we enjoyed our private seating for dinner in this secluded cove along the Pacific Ocean at sunset.  I can tell you that the picture that I am so inadequately able to paint for your understanding is and will forever be etched in my heart and soul.  I can still hear the roaring ocean as it echoes in this small canyon that formed this cove; I can still smell the mist of the ocean as it explodes on the rocks that protrude majestically into the sea; and most wonderfully, I can still see the glistening sun shine in the reflection of my wife’s blue eyes as we sat together to enjoy this shared moment of beauty and wonder in our lives.

Date:                           May 4, 2007  

Location:                    Watsonville, CA                   

1030:

            There are many advantages and some disadvantages to working at a campground and being part of a large corporate organization and I am not going to bore you with my assessment of these from either perspective.  I will let you free your own mind and contemplate just what it is I am speaking about.  From my personal perspective I can sum up the complex question of what we are doing and why we are doing it by re-playing a conversation I had with our campground host after a full day of some what hectic assignments.

Sally:               “How is you day going?”

Rob:                “I’m still sane and haven’t uttered a bad word all day, even while I wrestled with the cup dispenser that wanted to disobey every request that I made of it.”

Sally, (with a polite chuckle):                       “The real question is, are you still having fun?”

Rob:                “I am having a ball and still feel like a kid getting paid to play all day long.”

            Believe it or not, that is a rather accurate representation of the conversation that I had as I was heading home yesterday and it is quite true of the attitude that I have so far about being here at Santa Cruz KOA.  We do work and are at times under a hectic rush to do many things at once, and yet we are still having fun.  We are told that the busy time of the year will make this feel like a rest period, and we are eagerly await the chance to enjoy that time also.  Working is not work if it is fun, it is playing.

            The other conversation that I would like to share is one that I had with a 2000 plus year old tree that towered over me at something near 270 feet tall.  It may not have been a conversation that can be quoted as the one above can be, but it was a conversation non the less.

            Connie and I decided, on one of our free days, to explore a bit of the northern part of our new home territory.  We drove to the Big Basin Redwood State Park, which is just north of Santa Cruz.  As I am sure you are all aware, California is one of the very few places on this earth that the giant coastal redwoods grow and Big Basin is the home of some of the tallest trees in the world.  Driving through these towering giants is just as awesome as you might expect.  The younger trees of just a few centuries line the small two lane road that twists and meanders through this first state park of California.  I am still trying to get used to the mountainous terrain that literally hugs the coastline of the Pacific.  While we were meandering up and through mountainous terrain that winds through forest full of towering giants that reach hundreds of feet in to the sky it is difficult to believe that we are but a ridge line away from a beach that cascades into the Pacific Ocean.  We were in a world that felt so far from the hustle and bustle of a west coats beach town and yet we were but a very few miles from the board walk in Santa Cruz.

            Connie had prepared one of her fantastic picnic lunches and we decided to park in a grove of giant redwoods to enjoy our afternoon repast.  Redwoods grow in small circular clumps of 5 or 6 trees that ring the depression of a much older and now decomposed mother tree.  If you have never set beneath a redwood tree it is a moment of awe that you should experience.  The trees tower into the sky at almost unbelievable heights.  We had a feeling of the Adirondacks at first until we started to realize the major difference.  In the Adirondacks the trees are about 60 to 80 feet tall and that seems to be very majestic and inspiring; a feeling that we have truly enjoyed over the years.  As we sat enjoying our hummus and crackers we began to realize that these young trees of some 2 or 3 hundred years old would tower over 3 of the tallest Adirondack tress if they were standing on each other.  These beautiful evergreens stand 250 plus feet over our heads.  The branches of evergreen leaves are over a hundred feet above us forming a canopy over our picnic table.  Most of these trees were here guarding this picnic site long before the park was ever thought about, and long before this country was founded and these are the babies of the forest.

            After lunch we took one of the nature walks through the forest and met the mother and father of the forest.  The father is over 2000 years old and some 16 feet around at his base.  I actually stood next to and touched a living thing that was on this earth before Christ was born, and this creature is still alive interacting with every living creature that walks on this earth.  The scars of pain are evident in the burned remains of past forest fires which are carved into his trunk.  But also, the strength of the resolve of nature is most exemplified in the fact that this tree has grown beyond the pain of destruction and abuse to still live and breathe the same air that I share with him on my visit. Across the path and but a few steps away is the mother of the forest.  Her age was not recorded, how female typical.  She was, however, awesome in her presence and stature in the forest.  As I told you the redwoods tower like 20 and 30 story skyscrapers over this sate park.  This is an unbelievable sight in itself and might be enough for anyone to think about until you see the mother of the forest in comparison to her family of “little” children.  The tallest tree in the redwood forest is 329 feet tall and towers 100 feet over her family of giants.  When you look up 200 and 50 plus feet to see the tops of these tress it is awesome.  To see another tree top towering over all of this is breath taking.

            I think that what I have learned form my two conversations in this blog are that:

1)         If I am having fun it really does not matter what someone else would call my experience.

2)         Given the right climate and surroundings you can grow to unbelievable heights and stature and you might just have a talk to some old duffer someday that just happens to come and pay you a visit.

Date:                           May 3, 2007  

Location:                    Watsonville, CA                   

0900:

            I am sure that many of you might have wondered when and how I will ever grow up, I might have an answer for you.  I was assigned to work with the maintenance crew here at the KOA for the day.  This is a chance for me to play with the big boys at the campground and it was in the middle of the week so there were not a lot of little kids to play with.  I got to move some things from one storage place to another and to start cleaning out the maintenance storage area.  This may not sound like a lot of fun, but it is something to do and feels much like a very large NOMADS project.  The drizzling morning dew was changing to afternoon sun and I was out doors, so things were good.

            Part way through my morning one of the other workers asked me to help him load his truck with the enormous amounts of cardboard that needed to be disposed of, and I gladly agreed.  It is here that I may have found my life’s vocation.  This small few moment job lasted nearly all day long.  After we loaded the truck with our first of three loads of broken down boxes I offered to go with him to the recycling plant and help unload, if the need arise.  To make a long story more understandable, I spent the day driving back and forth to the dump with truck load after truck load of cardboard and even one load of metal stuff.  Yes, I have graduated to the life long vaunted position of trash collector.  And I will bet that there are some of you that thought I would never amount to anything.

            Connie spent the day on the registration and store operation side of the campground, trying to see if could get more frustrated.  It seems that my type A personality wife thinks that being shown the computer in the office and a very quick review of the operating system should make her an expert.  She has had nearly a full day and a half of experience and she is not the camp expert yet, so she is feeling inadequate and frustrated.  It has not taken me nearly that long to learn how to become a garbage man.  I am sure that Connie’s knowledge and expertise will grow and she will eventually satisfy her own demands of her abilities to run the camp ground reservation system, but I am not sure where my level of advancement has to take me.

             The people at this KOA are fun to work with and very friendly and we are enjoying these very new experiences. I still have the challenge of learning how to work in the real people part of our assignments and Connie needs to learn how to be more patient with her self.  I will probably be more successful that she will be, but that is how we are made.  It is almost time for us to return to our playground and for Connie to become more frustrated and for me to become a little more oriented to the campground and its computer system.

Date:                           May 1, 2007

Location:                    Watsonville, CA                   

0930:

            We are beginning to gain a rhythm for our new life style in Santa Cruz and at the KOA.  We played with the kids one day, trained half of one day and played behind the counter in the rather large camp store for another half of a day, and then it was time for some relaxation and fun.  Yes, after being on the “work schedule” for two days we were then assigned 2 days off.  I am not sure that is going to be our normal rhythm of work scheduling, nor are we expecting to have 2 days off after doing so little work.  But, that is where we are now and that is what we are enjoying.

            Being faced with our first days off after a grueling 2 day work week, we decided to do some exploring in and around Watsonville.  Our first chore was to find a post office and try to find our mail.  It had been sent to Lodi and we were not able to get to Lodi due to a slight moving problem with Aurora, so we asked the campground to forward our mail to the KOA in Santa Cruz.  They gladly did that nearly 2 weeks ago and in 2 weeks the stellar postal service of our country has been unable to ship a package from one campground in the northern part of this state to another less than 100 miles away.  No wonder our postal rates keep escalating.  It must be for the fantastic service we never seem to receive.  By the way, upon return to the KOA this evening our mail was here. It was with the mail we received from Texas, which was shipped last Friday.  Lets see if I understand this; 1500 miles it takes 3 days, less then a couple of hours drive and it takes 2 weeks.  To some postal Neanderthal I will bet that makes sense, not to me.

            On a much brighter note; Connie and I explored the small quaint town of Capitola on the Bay.  It is between our campground and Santa Cruz and is nestled in the cliffs and shore line of the Monterey Bay.  It is all that beautiful and fantastic.  It is much like most coastal, small villages with a California style thrown if for ambiance.  There are the obligatory small shops, winding roads, and wafting smells of sea and sand.  There are also many many restaurants of most any description and epicurean delight.  Most of these establishments are, of course, along the beach and a little expensive.  They seemed a little expensive to a back woods up state New Yorker, but he went in to one for lunch anyways.  Connie and I choose Zelda’s. It was rustic, and dripping with California beach atmosphere and close enough to the ocean to feel the salty sea breeze as the waves broke on the shore.  Yes, it was that special and perfect.  The food was even awesome and just enough different to let us know we were eating out and not just out eating.

            Our table, next to a window overlooking the Pacific of course, had a beautiful view of the cliffs that run to the ocean’s edge along this coast.  As, has become evident around here, every place there could be a house there was a house, except on the beach itself.  Houses climb the sharp cliff walls as if they are magnets on a metal wall.  As obtrusive as that may sound it added an element of beauty as we sat at our sea side window table and drank in the charm and warmth of a California spring day at the beach.  At the base of this wall of precariously placed housing, along the fringe of the bay shore, is a line of small connected houses that resembled a Mediterranean picture of the sea.  These small quaint abodes are painted in multiple pastels glistening in the noon day sun.  Yes, it was quite wonderful and this is our new home for the next few months.  Capitola is but a very few miles from our campground and it has a Trader Joe’s, with 2 buck chuck, and a pristine grocery called Nob Hill Foods, where the produce is fresh and the meats are to die for, all be they on the pricey side.  We were talking to another customer as we waited for our meat at the butcher counter; she told us she comes from the other side of Santa Cruz just to buy her meats here.  She whispered that the prices were a little high, but we had already figured that out for ourselves.

            We spent most of the afternoon strolling through the small winding streets of Capatola and spending money at the grocery and Trader Joe’s, along with taking many, many pictures of flowers and the resident birds that reside on the beach and along the shore of Monterey Bay.  As I mentioned, when we returned to our home our mail had arrived and we had had a pretty fantastic first day off.  I had promised my wife that I was cooking dinner, a plate of gnocchi and garlic roasted marinara sauce along with a bottle of real 2 buck chuck wine from our visit to TJ’s.  It had been a special and wonderful day.  We had strolled along the Pacific, had a decent dinner and my wife had a brand new vase full beautiful and vibrant flowers from Nob Hill to enjoy and yet the day was not finished or complete.

            After dinner my wife normally springs to action and cleans the table and washes the dishes, tonight was to be a large exception.  We finished dinner at about 7:30 pm and Connie told me to get my camera and put on my shoes because we were going to dash to the beach and say good night to the sun.  It was clear evening, no “marine layer” and just enough cloud cover to add an aura of fantasy to the evening’s sunset.  The beach is but a mile or less from our campground and evenings of beauty that match this are rare and too precious to forgo just for the cleaning of a couple of dishes.  Before the sun made its dip into the Pacific Ocean, Connie and I were out of our rig, parked at the State Park, and walking on the beach at twilight time bidding adieu to a beautiful day on the Pacific coast.

            The evening sky exploded with reds and oranges as the sun slowly slid into the horizon at the end of Monterey Bay while the calm and glistening ocean rolled it and kissed the shore line good night.  While on the beach you can enjoy the wonder and calming effect of ocean waves as they break and splash on to the shore, and you enjoy the cool evening’s gentle breeze as the sun spills its colorful majesty along the cliff lined horizon that walks into the ocean at the end of the bay.  In this section of California, and along this shore line, you also are regaled in the 30 or 40 foot cliffs of green and fertile brown soil that seclude you from the rest of the world as you stroll along your fantasy playground.  Dotted along this scene are the eucalyptus trees standing tall along the ridges with a scattering of an evergreen or two to add depth and contrast to the picture.  To all of this imaginary charm and beauty that is real and present you must also add the spattering of clumps of bright flowers, most of which I have yet to learn their names.  I do know that the yellows and oranges are mostly California poppies and the purple vines growing in the sands of the beach are sand verbena.

            I will post some of the tons of pictures that we took of this stroll along heavens entrance, but I must surely admit that the pictures are more of an insult than a true representation of the beauty that is but a very short distance from our motorhome.  On this evening Connie and I were nearly alone on the beach to enjoy this treasure of Mother Nature, and we know that this will not always be the case.  As summer approaches the numbers of fellow enjoyers will rise exponentially, I am sure.  But for a few moments, on an isolated beach, we could silently and soulfully enjoy this magic of pure beauty, as we bid goodnight to a vibrant colorful sun and hello to a full glisten moon as my lovely wife and I strolled along the warm Pacific Ocean on Monterey Bay.