Monday, August 31, 2015

Cat's Tale

A  L  O  H  A !
Click These Photos!
Dawn Over Marin Wetlands

“ The morning always has 
a way of creeping up 
on me and peeking
 in my bedroom windows. 
The sunrise is 
such a pervert. ” 
                           Jarod Kintz












East Bay Mountains

“ There's a sunrise and
 a sunset every single day, 
and they're absolutely free. 
Don't miss so many of them. ” 
                                       Jo Walton













“ In someone's darkest hour 
your simple act of kindness 
may imitate the sunrise, 
and to sad eyes 
you become their 
only source of light. ” 
                          Richelle E. Goodrich


 =^..^=

Pixie cat is 
SO delighted
to be home from
summer camp!

She was a rescue
when she came to us,
had been abandoned,
and had spent long 
weeks in the shelter.
A shy girl, her hopes
for adoption seemed slim.
That was four years ago

I had never left her before
and told her
"I will be back for you!"
when I took her 
But my heart was 
breaking.

Would she be glad to see
me after two weeks,
or permanently miffed?

Well she is as happy
to see us, as we are
to be with her.

We are sharing the love.
She slept with us all night.

Love conquers all!
But no more vacations.

If we go far,
it will be together,
and for good.

Stay tuned Friends!

                 Fondly, cloudia
& Pixie
Back in my favorite chair!

Sunday, August 30, 2015

Comforts

A L  O  H  A !
Comforts Cafe, St. Ignacio Calif.
Click Photo to Enlarge

" If we knew 
each other's secrets,
 what comforts 
we should find. "
                      John Churton Collins

Linking to


Thanks, Friend!
                                 cloudia

San Gregorio

A  L  O  H  A !
Click on Photo to enlarge store
San Gregorio is an unincorporated community
 in San Mateo County, California.

Population: 214 people. 

Considered part of
the San Francisco Bay Area, 
she is south of Half Moon Bay.

The proprietors of the venerable
San Gregorio General Store 
are my friends George C. 
& his lovely wife Josephine.

It is a remarkable place
where you can buy aspirin,
farm clothes, books (!)
and all manner of things
you MUST have.
(Like my new bandanna  
of cloud types).
There is also a bar,
and live music on weekends.

George sells more copies
of my book than any 
store in Hawaii!

The San Gregorio General Store 
has been operating since 1889.








 San G is little more 
than a crossroads
in the middle of farm country
a short distance from 
Pacific Beaches.
Above is the old Stage Stop
just across the road
from the store.











Today, the San Gregorio Stage Stop
is a private home, albeit with the 
sign, a historic plaque (far right)
and gaily painted kites
(or are they masks?)










Not to be outdone in eccentricity
the farmer across the road
from the other two
(it is a crossroads)
Air dry's his ocean catch
along the fence!




:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::


" Named after Pope Gregory I 
(Saint Gregory the Great).
 San Gregorio was a booming town 
in the 1850s, when wealthy San Franciscans would travel to the San Gregorio House by stagecoach to enjoy fishing, hunting, 
sea bathing, and boat races. 
The original stagecoach stop stands across Highway 84 from the store.  
In 1915, the community was 
home to seven cheese factories. "
                                      Wikipedia


OK, Back in the car!

                        Warmly, cloudia

Saturday, August 29, 2015

Give Us

A  L  O  H  A !
“ Give us this day 
our daily Faith, 
but deliver us,
 dear God, from 
Belief. ” 
               Aldous Huxley


(\__/)
(='.'=)
(")_(")   


Trip was great, but 
being without internet 
made me miss 
all my online pals!
Fondly, cloudia

Confession Time

A  L  O  H  A !
OK, Time for me 
to come clean:
I've been traveling in
Northern California
for almost two weeks.








My head is swimming,
my wheels are humming,
but I'm back
in the islands,
and looking forward
to visiting YOUR blog
again soon.










“ The larger the 
island of knowledge, 
the longer the 
shoreline of wonder. ”   
                 Ralph W. Sockman

And let's link to

Good to be back!

         Fondly, cloudia

Friday, August 28, 2015

Moloka`i

A  L  O  H  A  !


Let's spend some time 
on the Friendly Isle-

Thank YOU
for visiting!
                                      cloudia

Chinatown Night Dragon

A  L  O  H  A !
Nyctophilia is a Medical Definition:
 Preference for the night or darkness. 














Night is the time
of strange sights














"Art is not a thing;
 it is a way." 
                        Elbert Hubbard












Small Comforts
get us through
the Night









Wishing You Wealth! Gold Ingots

" Valuable beyond price 
are good feelings. "
             H. R. Haweis




Valuable
beyond price
is YOUR
visit!
                                    cloudia

Thursday, August 27, 2015

Green Chain Rope

A L O H A !
" The supernatural is 
the natural not
 yet understood. "
                        Elbert Hubbard













" We awaken in others 
the same attitude 
of mind we hold 
toward them. "
                      Elbert Hubbard
















" Love grows by giving. 
The love we give away is
the only love we keep. 
The only way to retain love
is to give it away. "
Elbert Hubbard


















" And in the end, 
the love we take
 is equal to the 
love we make."
                   Beatles














Thank You!
            warmly, cloudia




Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Your Key

A  L  O  H  A !


" To love and be loved 
is to feel the sun 
from both sides. " 
                                          David Viscott 







" I first learned the concept 
of non-violence 
in my marriage. "
                   Gandhi







" The key to your universe 
is that you can choose. " 
                      Frederick Carl Frieseke


Thank YOU,
Friend!
                     cloudia

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Island Person

A  L  O  H  A !
“To take a good rest in life 
[from] time to time, 
you must know the ways 
to make yourself 
a remote island! 
An island no one 
can reach…” 
                         Mehmet Murat ildan









“ Every man is an island, 
and every heart seeks 
the ferry to cross ...” 
                                  Mykyta Isagulov









" Don't simply retire 
from something; 
have something 
to retire to. "  
            Harry Emerson Fosdick


Thank YOU
for retiring here
for a time!
                     Fondly, cloudia

Monday, August 24, 2015

My First Boy

A  L  O  H  A !
I was 15 in a new neighborhood.

The High School I attended was
 a big, modern red brick factory, 
a "good" school. 
But I found it rather dehumanizing.


While the Beatles sang, 
and I attended the first Earth Day 
in Philadelphia's Fairmount Park, 
my school was run by crew-cutted, 
career educators who believed in 
instilling certain values
 in the boys and girls
 in order to stem the tide 
of psychedelic social rebellion 
that they abhorred.





Then I met a boy 
who lived a couple of miles away 
and attended another school,
 a "worse" school 
where he was the butt 
of abuse for being dark 
and quiet with amazingly 
expressive brown eyes.
The bullies loved to see 
pain register in those eyes
and called him The Mexican.






That's Carl on the left

He was actually Jewish, with a grandfather who had escaped poverty, sanctioned abuse, and a forced 20 year stretch in the Russian Army, by leaving Russia on horse back; and who had a picture of himself smoking a hookah with some sepia Turkoman traders. "Fuck the Czar" he always began when asked about those days. I cannot hear anything about the Czar on the History Channel or anywhere else without muttering "Fuck the Czar" under my breath in tribute to the old man.


One time, Carl (my friend) 
tried to shock grandpa 
by inviting him to smoke 
some hash with us.

"Hashish?! He asked incredulously.

"You want to smoke hashish!? - 
Hashish you EAT!!!!!"


We laughed about that for years.
Heck, I still do!










Carl's family was blue collar too,
 and we soon became inseparable.

We were both carrying some baggage, 
OK, full baggage cars FULL of baggage.

We hid out together in his bedroom 
and he taught me everything about classic films, 
though people called them "old movies" then,
 and they papered late night TV 
clotted with commercials.


He showed me the classic movie goddesses and heroes.
We learned about history, sociology, and culture.
Together we gasped at Busby Berkley's choreography,
and Cagney's style.


We especially loved the film noir of the 50's 
which spoke well to the lingering, sooty Philadelphia 
that we lived in.




Our lives entwined.





I had a chance (as a thoughtful troublemaker) 
to get into a new alternative high school
 that was a progressive experiment of the times, 
Parkway.


Carl, moored in high school torment 
applied among thousands 
and got in fairly! 
A bonifide miracle!


But Parkway's head master, 
a charming Englishman called John Bremer 
would not accede to my Principal's request 
to de-acquisition me.




I had to cut school and show up at his desk
 to articulate my absolute need 
to be in MY new school-reality, 
he took a liking to me 
and I was the only part-time student 
in the 150 student school. 
Mornings in prison regulated by bells,
 afternoons in the modern world of education. 
(Kevin Bacon was one of our stairwell card players, 
a fellow student that I was kinda scared of.)





Carl and I went to school together every day,
 & spent all our time together. 
We schooled ourselves in mind expansion 
and film culture at night as the adults slept.



Sometimes we'd drive to Chinatown in his mom's Mercury 
at 3 am for Wor Shu Op (Pressed Duck)
 at the old South China on 10th street. 
One night, Jerry Stiller walked in 
to get take out; he was performing in town 
with his wife: Stiller & Meara. 
Their kid, Ben, was in footsie pajamas - 
not comedy movies back then.





One year, after a full night of ritual drinking,
 Carl went to South Philly to join the Clown Brigades
 of the New Year's MUMMER's PARADE. 
If you are at all interested in folk life, 
you MUST see the Mummers Parade in Philly! 

Carl, drunk as regulations and custom demand,
 lurched up the street with a mob 
of other civic-minded inebriates doing the
 "Mummers Strut."


Man, I wish I had film of THAT!


It was a men-only parade back then
(a whole culture: pipe fitters 
in sequins playing banjos in the snow).




Carl and I learned about life together. 
We grew up a bit. 
We sold pot for bus fair (allegedly) .
 "Your boyfriend's gay" 
my helpful parents pointed out. 
Guess I'll hang out with a football player; 
thanks.




Once, he accompanied me on a driving trip 
with another friend of ours to Vermont 
so I could interview at Goddard College. 
Carl interviewed on a whim. 

Two weeks later we heard:
 they wanted to give him a scholarship.

 They sent me a regrets letter.
 Just like Parkway!
It changed his life.





He "came out" and became a campus star. 
Faculty member (and famed lesbian author)
 Rita Mae Brown told him:
 "Carl, if you were a woman I'd marry you."

 He started interpreting Joni Mitchell songs
 in American Sign Language
 bringing the lyrics alive
 to hearing and deaf alike.


Then he got an internship working with
 warehoused autistic kids. 
No one cared what Carl did, 
as long as no one got hurt or loud. 
He taught them sign language!



The loved his deep eyes
 that looked into their souls
 and showed his pain and beauty to them. 
Several of the kids were 
"mainstreamed" after that.
 Unheard of!
But that was Carl.







I went to college at Franconia in New Hampshire
 (for a year, long story)
 and we saw each other when we could,
 but by then we knew that we'd always be close. 

Before Facebook and Tweeting, 
we drove around northern New England 
in old Volkswagen's and Volvos.



30 Miles through a crystal cold night
 to St. Johnsberry for
 all- night Duncan Donuts 
sounds very good when you are lonely
 and young and free
 and eager to meet.
And talk.





Eventually, Carl graduated 
and moved to New York City 
as he had always dreamed. 

He was a professional sign language interpreter
 in the courts - learning everything about a fascinating reality.



Superior Court Judges mothered him.
 He was free of his abusers,
 had respect, and had learned to respect himself.

It was the best time ever to be a gay man:
The 1970's in Manhattan!





He was so excited
 when they asked him to be one of the first
 sign language interpreters to perform 
on the front of the Broadway Stage.

There he was in the playbill!


Chopinsky had been shortened to Chopin.



He was beautiful,
 sought after, and sharing
 the stage with Tommy Tune, 
Honey Coles and Twiggy
 in "My One and Only."
Just one of many productions
 that featured him.





During intermission,
 the hearing audience was buzzing
 about how they couldn't take their eyes
 off the guy signing.


And Tommy Tune 
was dancing at his peak then!


When I went back stage, 
Twiggy was swigging booze
 straight from the bottle. . . . 
Sure wish I could find that Play Bill.












Carl had had a lot of
 emotional and physical 
wear and tear in his life. 

We talked about being
 elderly together and
 reminiscing about 
the "good old days."



Bette Middler and Barry Manilow
 were performing to gay audiences
 at the "baths" 
before she was discovered. 

Bruce Springsteen was playing 
a bar in Philly every weekend;
Disco all night, 
and liberation, 
and a lot of hope for the future.



Then lots of guys started to get sick.











Carl's kidneys failed;
He went on relief 
and on dialysis.


His outer beauty 
(so important to us then) 
dimmed - 
but his soulful eyes
 grew only richer

 and deeper.
I can close my eyes 
and look into them still.





I visited him before moving to Hawaii.

But we would always stay close.


In an instant, a pause, a look, a note, 
a phone call, 
we were instantly closer 
than any two people could be.


So much of each other, so many memories 
and landmarks shared. . . .



My mom heard 
from someone in Philly 
that he had died.

This is years back, now.







A famed psychic 
once told me that 
two friends who have passed 
accompany me through life.


Perhaps I'll tell you
 about the other friend 
on another occasion.



Carl and I used to say: 
"If I close my eyes,
 you are still there.


There is more to our friendship
 than what can be touched or heard."


So true.





I often wonder how middle-aged me
 looks to forever young and handsome Carl.
 Some day we'll laugh about it.




If your friend(s) of adolescence 
are still in this world, 
call them today. 

Tell them Carl and I say
"Hi"


                   Fondly, cloudia

This was posted last year.
I decided to keep
all of the Wonderful comments.
Feel free to say, "hi'
Love You!