Two doors over from Versadial is a building with an Aston Martin sign. Not sure what exactly they do, but those luscious looking cars do sometimes appear in the parking lot. These three sported dealer license plates a few days after the photo was taken and have since disappeared.

Meanwhile in the alley behind the buildings on Lake Forest, directly across from where BCHD WHL was seen, sits this neglected truck.

On May 12 while on my lunch time walk, I saw the Goodyear blimp flying over the OC Armory.

Saturday morning I went out in the backyard with the newspaper and a muffin and got situated in the sun with peanuts close at hand, anticipating Jay’s return. I was disappointed. Big Boy Right Walker came around several times, but not a single sight or sound of scrub jay was to be had.

Sunday morning I did the same but without much expectation that he would show. Then there was that distinctive sound of a scrub jay defending its territory and not one, but two scrub jays arrived, one in the neighbor’s pine tree, the other in the mulberry. I held out my hand… Just like old times, the jay in the pine tree swooped across the yard, landed on my hand, picked up the peanut like it was the most natural thing in the world and then flew away. The other jay was not happy with this turn of events and gave chase. Jay was undetered and came back several times for more. Made my whole weekend.

Sub Chaser

…off the southern California coast. Dad was impressed. They had a great time swimming and sunning, really cushy duty. He was so impressed that he gave up his exemption and joined the Navy too. And then the Navy, as he put it, “…shipped my ass overseas.”

Kaneohe Bay

After basic training in San Diego, he was sent to Hawaii and started training as a side gunner. On his very first flight, the instructor stressed the importance of speed. A side gunner’s life expectancy in combat was about 22 seconds, so the sooner the guns could be gotten out of stowage, mounted in the window, and begin spitting lead during an attack, the better. When the “Go” was given, Dad grabbed a machine gun off the rack and threw it in the direction of the window mount. His aim was flawless and he watched in horror as the gun went right out the open window and into Kaneohe Bay. That was the last time he saw the inside of an airplane for the duration of the war. Probably saved his life.

Bore Sighting

While stationed on some dinky island in the Pacific, he and a buddy were assigned to bore sight guns on fighter planes. If he told us the plane model I have forgotten it. Here is a picture that shows the procedure. It sounds similar to the story he told about having to jack up the back of the plane and look for the target through the bore. He said on this particular day, his buddy was having trouble with one. Every time he got it lined up, there was something hanging down, blocking his view of the target. He tried it several times and finally gave up and locked it down. Later that day, the pilots took the planes out for test firing. Guess what? One of them shot his propeller off. Dad frequently said he was amazed we won the war with a bunch of 19 year olds.

Good Morning Mr. S

If Dad was ever in combat, he didn’t talk about it. He did see Japanese prisoners while on another Pacific island. They were used in work crews. One crew of about 20 was overseen by a big Marine. One of the Japanese prisoners was a talkative little man striving to improve his English. Every morning as he climbed into the back of the truck, he said “Good morning” to the Marine. One morning he asked another sailor for the Marine’s name. Dad explained that the sailor and the Marine had had some kind of beef the day before. The sailor said, “His name is shit.” So when the little Japanese prisoner climbed into the truck, he proudly said, “Good morning Mr. Shit.” Dad said you could hear the poor guy’s bones crunch when the Marine hit him and knocked him clear out of the truck.

Today he learned the lesson. He went for the big one first again and tried three or four times to get it far enough back in his throat. This time though, when he realized he couldn’t, he put it back down where it would not roll away and picked up the small one. Then he tipped his back to get that one all the way into his throat pouch and easily picked up the big one. He did it twice this morning so I think he’s really figured it out.

I watch all the CSI shows, have since the beginning of each of them. I still like the original best but they each have their own slant and strong points. My most excellent spouse, Patricia, only grudgingly tolerates CSI: Miami. She can only take so much of David Caruso. But we are both always impressed with the gorgeous Miami scenery which, I can now say is almost stunning on our 52″ Sony Bravia HDTV.

Last Monday’s episode, “LA,” featured a visit to Los Angeles and guess what? I have never seen such beautiful, colorful, shots of the L.A. basin. Griffith Observatory, the Coliseum, City Hall, the Disney Concert Hall, the Hollywood Bowl, all rendered in rich, saturated color, so unlike it’s usually drab greys and browns. If you missed it, it is worth watching just for that, even in standard definition TV.