Daily Blues & Views

 In May of 1970, right before I ended my VISTA service in Houston, Texas, all the people who had lived in the house that became the Communications Center, posed for a group photo on the front porch of the decrepit home that endured at 1506 Rosewood Ave.  It has since become an iconic photo.  Iconic because it freezes time and represents a moment in that time that says so much. Aside from a 50 year reunion with most of the people in that photo, there always remained two individuals that were never heard from.  That's because they were not VISTA Volunteers like most of us, they were, in fact, high school students that often hung out at C-2*(C squared-Communications Center) See them on far right of photo. One of the programs that VISTA created that year was called "The University of Thought."  It was a "Free University" for high school students.  In those days, the concept of a free university was popular.  It was an opportunity for young people to take c...

 I had a hunch they would work.  They did.  I was able to use writing prompts, strategies, and activities I had used with high school students with senior citizens.  Needless to say, this was very gratifying.  Here's the story. About a year ago, after enrolling in a Tai Chi class through my local community center and then again at a local gym, I met a number of retired seniors who just happened to be some of the friendliest people I have ever known.  Our little community of elders id talkative and delightful.  After talking with a number of them, I realized that they certainly had some stories to tell.  They had been and some still are all manner of professions.  Teachers, nurses, realtors, lawyers, waitresses, architects, and more.  It occurred to me then that a writing class where seniors write about their lives to preserve stories for posterity might be something they'd be interested in.  So, I set about trying to make that happe...

 I've returned to The Book of Qualities, by J Ruth Gentler once again to meet the needs of one of the senior students in my little Writing From Memory class I'm currently teaching in my local community center.  This little volume personifies various concepts and personality traits.  The particular student "in need" seems to be fixated on writing about her past relationships.  Apparently, there were many.   I'm OK with that.  I only hope that she picks a few qualities that are as revealing about herself as those that might describe her Ex's.  There is much to be learned by writing about a quality.  The aforementioned book seems to have survived well over the years.  I first encountered it and its author way back in the late 1970s.  I took a journal writing workshop from her.  Then, a few years later, her book came out and I introduced these writing exercises to my students.  11th grade Juniors seemed to do the best with it. ...

 I've never had a nickname.  Although, for a brief period, during my Little League years I was called "greenie" for a time.  That didn't stick into adolescence and adulthood.  There was, however, another brief moment in time when I actually did have a nickname.  Here's the story. At age 20, in my junior year of college, I became obsessed with the Blues.  Blues music, blues history, blues singers, blues records.  It was a perfect unity of aesthetic experience that created this passion.  The first ethnic studies classes offered at UCLA played an important part.  My midterm for what was then called "Negro History" was to write a paper on a topic relevant to the coursework.  I chose the subject of the Blues and how it reflected import events and experiences in African American history and culture.  At the time, the burgeoning folk and rock music scene was also evolving.  Being in Los Angeles helped too.  At a small, now iconic...

 In 1957, when I was ten years old, Disneyland opened to the public.  Living in Southern California at the time, every kid on my street couldn't wait for the opportunity to ride in the jungle boat in Adventureland, drive the Autotopia cars in Tomorrowland, and sit in the stagecoach exploring Frontierland.  Two of my neighborhood friends were among the first to have these experiences.  Their father worked at Technicolor and the first days of Disneyland were reserved for families of those who worked in the movie industry.  They returned from their privileged visit to the Magic Kingdom with home movies to show all the envious kids in the neighborhood.   Shortly after that time, my front yard was transformed into something much better.  Actually it was my entire neighborhood block.  We had Sewerland.  I know it doesn't sound exciting, or even something to praise, but Sewerland was the best thing to happen to 10 year old kids.  Our little pos...

 It's been 58 years since The Doors lit up the summer of 1967 with their classic recording of "Light My Fire." As a young man age 20 in Los Angeles back then, I vividly recall the many times I heard that song on the radio.  That's because there were two versions.  One was about 3 minutes long and fit in perfectly with the Top 40 format  of most LA stations.  There was, however, a longer version that ran about 6 and a half minutes. I was working as a mail clerk for a large corporation that summer and my workmate and I always timed our daily run to the post office to coincide with hearing the long version on station KRLA.  They often announced, " At the top of the hour, the long version of "Light My Fire."   I could already hear the organ introduction in my head.   The Doors hailed from a part of LA where I spent a lot of time.  They have roots that stem from Venice, to the UCLA campus.  The music scene flourished and morphed during those ...