Rite Of Passage

I can’t wait till autumn. Not sure why I dislike Summer so much. I think because it’s hot. Being from a tropical land, it’s weird I’d dislike it so, but autumn has the colors and the smells. Also football.

I think this year, I may drop by the local high school and watch a game or two. Locally, Sherman Oaks has school called Notre Dame that I constantly see recruits in Rivals. That school is in the middle of a rich area. Although it doesn’t look it, since it’s traffic out the ass. In Cincinnati, the rich are are separated by acreage of land and wooded areas with barely any traffic. The rich like not having to deal with the rest of us. In Los Angeles, the best they can do is to put up fences. Or, if you’re in Brentwood, big fences. Basically you have to build your own compound. I recall the houses in the rich area of Cincy being pushed really far from the main street, with a massive lawn, a classic luxury vehicle and space. Here they rather look inauspicious from passing eyes. Rather, a single door would lead you to an opening which would lead you to their compound.

I actually live in what was once a compound. Jane Russell, the big breasted B-movie chick of the 50’s owned this area. She was also in a movie with Marilyn Monroe. I guess back then there was no one here. She built walls. Specifically for her horses. And a chapel that use to be the center of this place. It’s got three pools. A nice quiet area you’d never know existed, because outside was the barrio. There’s even a turkey that walks the grounds around here. Though I haven’t seen him recently. It’s an odd place. I usually sit by the pool next to the main house to write. It seems like something they would’ve done back in the 50’s. Have high tea and chat about movies or whatever. I imagine Douglas Fairbanks and Mary Pickford and Buster Keaton just hanging around talking or playing cards. Or playing on the nearby tennis court. To me, it seemed the people from the 1930’s were already in convalescence. It seems the rich back then enjoyed the down time when they could. Nowadays, they barely look at the trappings that come with their earnings. It’s usually the family that gets to lounge whilst the breadwinners toil and stress outside. Personally…I’ve always chosen to be in the trenches then be at the canteen. It’s not for any noble cause but to stave my brain from boredom. Now that I don’t booze anymore, the idle mind doesn’t rest. It moves at a pace that I have to keep up with. Given the time to think, I still feel I need to do things. I fidget a lot these days. This could be also from the coffee I ingest. Or I smoke cigars now. Which…I’m not sure how I picked up this habit. I think just sometimes having it really fills the lulls in conversation. Or makes me seem smarter or something. I dunno. Smoke seems to jog my mind. Or I’m associating it with smoking a cigar. It is a comforting scent. I know the cigar place I use to frequent would have stressed out lawyers from Van Nuys Courthouse. Hypertension, ruddy day drinkers. These guys had terrible diets. And hid from their family at this smoke venue. There is something sorta traditional about it though. Like a rite of passage between men.