My dog Nicky

On my tenth birthday, I was in the kitchen in our house in San Jose. It was a Saturday and there was gonna be a small party that afternoon. My dad said, "Why don't you go in the back yard, your mom wants to show you something." I thought, 'oooh, maybe a present?'...So I went out back and looked around, hmm nothing. I walked further into the back, to the lawn and suddenly I saw a little Beagle puppy running towards me. At first I thought it must be a neighbor's dog who had gotten loose. He ran up as I knelt down to pet him. His tail was wagging at full speed as he jumped up and tried to lick my face. He was the coolest little dog! Then my mom emerged from somewhere and said, "Say hello to your little brother!"
"whaaaa..?"
"He's your new dog!"

I was speechless! We had discussed getting a dog before, but I never actually thought it would ever happen. My dad would go on and on about the responsibility of owning a pet...the care and feeding, cleaning up after it, and endless scenarios in which pet ownership would not be a practical or desirable thing. And yet here he was! An endless and permanent smile was glued on my face as I played with him on the grass. And he seemed just as joyous. He indeed became my 'little brother' as I grew into my teens and young adulthood. Nicky was my buddy, and he was part of the family. When we finally had to put him to sleep it was devastating to all of us. I was literally numb with grief for a few days. But he'll always be with me, not just in memory but in spirit.
Because he still visits me in my dreams.

Whether it's actually 'him' is almost beside the point, because the visits are real enough in a spiritual sense. In other words, when I do dream about him, he's never a 'walk on' character in some bizarre dreamscape...it's always just him, coming to say hello with his wagging tail and gentle and intelligent eyes...and he looks me in the eye with his doggy smile. After I wake up I always think, "that WAS him...it had to be."

I dreamed about him last night. It doesn't happen often, maybe about five times at the most since he died. And each time I think the same thing, "Oh my God! Nicky!...are you okay?...it's been so long since I've seen you or fed you!!...you look okay, oh man...you must be, what 41 years old now? You look good for 41...where have you been??" And he is old, he looks old...but he still smiles and wags his tail, as if he's just happy to be here. It indeed feels like he's visiting, just to say hello. No messages from beyond, no forewarning of impending doom like in a cheesy movie...just a visit from a happy soul from...somewhere...they do say all dogs go to heaven.
This time, I woke up and Nicky was still laying on the bed! "Nicky? Is that really you?" He grinned and woofed, as if to say, "yup!" He got up and moved to the edge of the bed to jump off. "You're so old buddy, be careful!" He looked back at me and jumped off. I sat up in bed and realized I was still dreaming, because I was on my hands and knees in a forest...a redwood forest I recognized. A voice said, "Here's what he saw." Who's voice that was, I don't know. I was then looking up from about a foot off the ground, and I saw myself with my cousin Joe, we were both kids, running up the hill...I was looking through Nicky's eyes!! I saw me and Joe run past and I joined in the chase, and I didn't exactly hear...but felt Nicky's voice, if he had been capable of having one...in a sort of 'Dick and Jane' vocabulary,
"danny! joe! run run! let's run! run danny! run joe! let's go! let's go! go go go! ball! where's the ball? throw it! throw it! I'll chase it! c'mon let's go! run run run!"
Then I slowly woke through the fog of that dissipating dream, the kind that you wish could never end, and I remembered the sheer joy of running with them. The pure undistilled joy of what a dog must feel when he's playing, and the unconditional love of a pet.
Maybe I should re-title this, "Nicky's gift."

The Grapes of Wrath

One of the things my mom and I have enjoyed doing lately is watching old vintage movies from the library. Some of the old film-noir movies, and old classics that I hadn't seen. The other day we watched "The Grapes of Wrath" made in 1940...an excellent film with a very young Henry Fonda. He played Tom Joad, a man who returns home to his family's farm in Oklahoma in the 1930's, only to discover it's been deserted. He finally finds them at his uncle's farm, where they're packing up the truck, because his uncle was also in forclosure. The banks were kicking everyone out of their homes and farms in the Depression-era 30's, especially in Oklahoma, during the incredible drought, the Dust Bowl...

It all sounds hauntingly familiar nowadays...but back then, there were no job placement resources, no UI...nothing. They were on their own.

But there were handbills that said there was work in California, so they set off with all that they owned in their dilapidated truck for the promised land, where "you could just reach up and pluck an orange right outta the sky"...in California.

As we watched, we found that this was a very poignant story, based on the book by John Steinbeck, because it was based on all-too-true stories, and the fictional Joads' destination was right here in the Central Valley in the 30's. My mom was a young girl then, and she remembers them first hand...the 'Okies' they called them. Though 'Okie' is a somewhat derogatory term, that's what everyone called them...that's what they called themselves.

"I was so little when they were coming," my mom said, "they were everywhere. I remember riding with my dad to Visalia and we'd see them parked along the road, just camping out of their cars."

When we watched the part in the movie where the Joads finally reached the California border, "I bet that's Needles" she said. And sure enough! The sign in the movie said 'Needles, California'.

"That's where they came through mostly, to the Valley, on the old highway 40...some came up through LA, the ones who stayed on Route 66."

It began to interest me that my mom had indeed lived during this, at ground zero during a significant part of California history...enough to base a landmark book and movie about anyway.

"How many actually came?"

"Oh thousands...not all at once of course. It was like a mass migration over a few years. And I was little, so I only remember some things...but I do remember when the Okies were everywhere, and nobody knew what to do with them all."

As we watched, the Joads found a temporary camp, among other new arrivals. It was basically a squatters camp. Their trip west had been a hard one. The grandfather died on the way, so they buried him by a tree near the highway. The son-in-law Al, he ran away, leaving behind a pregnant wife, because "he didn't know it was gonna be like this..."

When they unpacked, Ma Joad started cooking stew over an open fire. Soon, a few kids from the other campsites gathered around, and just stared.

"I shouldn't been doin' this...but my family's gotta eat. Lookit them poor kids..."

Henry Fonda then shooed them away, "Go on, git outta here now...go on GIT!"

As the kids scattered, Ma said "Aww now Tom, you shouldn't oughta be mean to them kids...they's just hungry."

"Yeah well I'm hungry too, Ma. And it ain't just food."

My mom said, "Aw, I would feel so sorry for those Okie kids. Some of them came to our school, and the other kids would be so mean to them. They'd make fun of their clothes, make fun of their hair, the way they talked...I did make friends with one girl though, Helen...she was the sweetest thing. I wonder where she is now."

"You should look her up."

"Well she got married and moved away after high school, but yeah I should."

In the movie, the Joads heard there was work picking oranges in Pixley. So they loaded their truck and headed there.

"Oh Pixley! There's still big orange groves over there!"

On the road, they got a flat tire. A man stopped and gave them a leaflet, it was a Communist leaflet stating how workers were being exploited and needed to organize and abolish the corporations.

"I remember the Communists...they were a regular political party back then. The grown-ups and teachers always told us to stay away from them. One time a kid brought a Communist leaflet to school. The teacher tore it up and threw it away in front of the class!"

As the Joads made their way north, stopping to work for a few days picking oranges, moving on to pick cotton, and moving on again with their broken down truck. Tom Joad became more frustrated at their existence...understandibly.

"I remember my dad telling a story about one Okie who came to the Ford garage here in Tulare. He needed parts for his truck, but he had no money. He was a mechanic, so he offered to work in exchange for the parts. Grandpa said he was such a good mechanic they hired him!"

"Good thing he had a skill!"

"Yeah grandpa used to bring home big bags of oranges, chickens, baskets of eggs...The Okies would bring their cars in to get fixed, and that's how they paid."

The Joads finally came to a government run camp, with running water and small cottages with electricity. The camp would assign jobs and they could live there for a very small fee. The Joads felt like they were living in luxury.

"That's how Tagus Ranch was, just up the road from here. It's still there, but it's a mobile home park now."

At the end of the movie, Tom Joad had to hit the road, but Ma Joad, in a moving speech, said how the family will go on. I thought about all the real Ma Joads out there, who held the families together in the hardest of times. They were decent hard-working folks, just looking for a place to settle and earn a living...or just get an even break. It was a very good movie and wonderfully acted. What made it so poignant was that it happened right here. The Joads were fictional of course, and many families were better off, some were worse off.

"A lot of those Okies ended up in Bakersfield. Their cars would break down over the Grapevine, so they hitch-hiked into the valley. Bakersfield was as far as many of them got. That's why there's so many Okies in Bakersfield...Nathan Findley was one."

Nathan Findley came with his wife from Oklahoma in 1934. After two hard years, Nathan finally landed a job at a tractor and farm equipment plant in Bakersfield as a machinist. They had three children, Joe, Leonard, and Hazel...

Joe is my uncle.

Illustration Friday - Perspective

Columns
Originally uploaded by danguerra444

Two-point perspective is always a basic rule, sometimes even three-point perspective. But it's always fun when you can add atmospheric perspective...

A New Watch

Today a bought a new wristwatch...not a big deal of course, but it was the first one I bought in a long time, eleven years in fact. My old watch finally died, with a battery that was only supposed to last five years. It had a face lamp which I never used, so maybe that extended the battery life, but still, 11 years is quite a record! I somehow took for granted that I'd had it that long, until the day it stopped working....sometimes I get overly sentimental.
I've worn watches ever since I can remember, they're an integral part of my left wrist, and I've seldom been without one. When I was three, I wore a toy watch that came as a prize in a Trix cereal box. Remember those? When cereal actually came with prizes inside? Ooooh I loved those!...Anyway, this toy watch had the Trix Rabbit's ears as the hands, and you could move them around. I always checked the clock in the kitchen to see what time it was, and would move the hands accordingly. That's pretty much how I learned to tell time!
On my 5th birthday, I got a REAL watch...it was my prized possession. I remember going around telling everyone what time it was. My dad always asked me, "What time is it in New York? What time is it in Chicago?"...and that's how I learned about time zones, ha!
I had that watch for a few years, it was a Timex wind-up, and I hardly ever took it off. Since it was waterproof, I even took baths with it on. One weekend we went up to the cabin in the Santa Cruz Mts. along with my cousins, and Aunt Carmen and Uncle Joe. Those were fun outings, we would often go up there in the summer, and the parents would barbeque and drink beer and us kids would play and explore among the redwoods. We always pestered them to take us to Santa Cruz, to the Beach Boardwalk where we could ride the rides and go to the beach. So one Saturday my mom and Aunt Carmen took us. It was a fun day, and we had a picnic on the beach. My cousin Joe and I wanted to go in the water, so my mom said, "Danny you better take your watch off..." So I did and laid it on the towel. After romping in the surf, and some horseplay and throwing the frisbee, later on it was time to go, so we all packed up and left. In the backseat of the car I noticed the tan line on my wrist...My watch! It was gone...I must have left it in the sand...I was crushed, I didn't cry but I wanted to. Later that night at the cabin, when we were in our sleeping bags, I overheard my mom say, "Poor Danny, he lost his watch..." so I guess my despondency must have showed.
For my next birthday I got a new watch, and I swore I would never lose that one. It was another Timex and I kept that one all the way through high school, until one day it just stopped working. By that time, the new digital watches were coming out, the ones where you press a button and the digital readout would appear. I bought one of those at Radio Shack and at the time, I thought it was the coolest thing. I had a job at Great America, out in the parking lot, and the sun was so bright out there I had to cup my hands around it just to see what time it was. And the constant checking must have worn the battery out after less than a year, not to mention the thing was pretty inaccurate, about 5 minutes too fast every 24 hours.
After that I got a Casio watch, which are pretty accurate, it lasted about 3 years battery-wise, and then began a pattern to this day of wearing watches until the battery ran out. I went through quite a few of them, settling back on the analog face instead of the digital, because, well, it's so traditional...you can see what time it is looking at a clock, but you have to think for a second looking at a digital readout...it's only a fraction of a second, I know...but it's still pleasing to just see what time it is.
So in May of 1999 I bought another watch at Target, it had the right feel to it...and that's the one I had since then. There's been a lot of ups and downs since I've worn it, and it's gone through three different watchbands, but the thing just kept on going...when it finally died, I felt as though it had some sentimental value, so I got a replacement battery for it. But a few days later the second hand started ticking backwards! I must have gummed up the works when I replaced the battery...it was almost as if the watch was saying, "let me go..."
So I did...it's sitting in a drawer now, ticking ten seconds forward, then five seconds back...I don't have the heart to just throw it away, nor does it seem happy just existing in there.
Meanwhile, I got a new watch, it's very basic, but it's accurate...I had to walk by and 'visit' it a few times before I bought it..."are you gonna be my new watch?"...it's like buying a new pet. And it is kinda, a constant companion.
So it's here now, home on my wrist.

Illustration Friday - Propagate

dannyspics 241
Originally uploaded by danguerra444

One of my favorite themes has always been wildlife propagating among the ruins...it's a 'circle of life' thing...

Illustration Friday - Adrift

Seaview
Originally uploaded by danguerra444

Adrift in a languid sea, that seems to carry on endlessly in all directions, also adrift of time, could be one definition of paradise.

Illustration Friday - Muddy

Picture 104
Originally uploaded by danguerra444

After a spring rain, the vinyards around Sonoma become muddy, but that's a good thing.