Several Long Days in the Hot Pollen Filled Haze...

Had Jimmy Buffett on the brain today.  Well do I remember the "brown L.A. haze",  as I grew up breathing it.  It never wiped me out the way the air here does in the Summer.  Heavy, dusty, and pollen filled, the air here fills my head with cotton.  It makes it hard to sleep, hard to read, hard to exercise, hard to BE.  Only a few days every year are really this bad, but when they come, they hit hard.

Yesterday was perhaps a bit better because I was forced to be active because I had to work, and then friends came to visit. Today, we would have gone to church, but neither of us slept well last night.  I just could NOT settle down, couldn't get comfortable, and I guess I kept Matt awake.
Because of this lack of sleep, I feel even more muzzy-headed today.  Sleep deprivation on top of several doses of antihistamine is a real incentive killer.  Makes one feel like the proverbial bump on a log:  not capable of or inclined to movement.

Now that the surly, sultry sun has gone down, the air is cooler, and I feel more awake.  Ironic, isn't it? In an hour or two, I'll have to try to sleep, just when I've started to feel awake and ready to do things.  Sigh.  Story of my life.  Always feel the wrong way at the wrong time.  Lethargic and sleepy when I should be alert and paying attention; alert and attentive when I should be sleeping. I'm just contrary, I guess.  Especially in the late summer, when it's been too hot, and when Texas has been so generously sharing it's cedar pollen, and when our ragweed has come into full, profuse, and irritating bloom.

My high school pals, Senior year.

I don't often miss L.A., but when I do are the days like today, when it would have been great to be able to pack up and go to the beach, even if EVERYBODY else in the Universe seemed to be there, at least there would be the ocean to listen to.  I miss hearing the ocean.  I miss the pulse of it, the rhythm of the waves, the constancy of it.  Even though we lived a good way inland, we could always drive to the beach pretty easily, even when we lived in the San Gabriel Valley.  I liked going best in the cold weather, though, when there weren't anywhere near as many people.  The Northern California and Oregon beaches are more beautiful than the beaches down south where I grew up, except for the beaches on the windward side of Catalina, where the cliffs rise above the sea.  I have found beautiful driftwood and sea glass on the Oregon coast, and have seen such beautiful views from there, and from Catalina's far side.  Only got to those places once, but they made a lifetime's worth of an impression on me.  Cool breezes, beautiful blue and turquoise waters, lighter sand than I remember Huntington Beach having, and no refineries or huge crowds present.
There are no photos from our high school and college age trips to the beach.  No cell phones and their cameras then.  We never thought to bring a camera to make pictures, that was something our folks did.  Most of us were far too extensively photographed as children, we disliked cameras intensely most of the time.  I wish now we had been able to make some photos of our lazy beach days at Huntington State Beach, (where the parking was free), when we had all pooled our money for gas and for lunch at a fast food place on the way down and/or the way back.  The long drive out of the valley, using the surface roads, because they were SO much more fun than the freeway.  Out over Hacienda Blvd and all it's winding ways, eventually to Beach Blvd, a straight shot to PCH, and then, THE BEACH!  Took us an hour or more, but it was hilarious!  There were always other kids on their way to the beach, and we had a bit of a carnival atmosphere as we drove down.  My senior year in high school, I actually had the nerve to wear a 2 piece bathing suit.  No pictures exist of me wearing that suit.  I was too shy, really, to preserve that particular sight.  Besides, I would either constantly find fault with my image, or it would depress me now, because such a figure and such looks were wasted on such a shy and retiring girl as I was then.
Another rite of my high school years that I really miss is Hollywood Blvd Safari.  We used to make sure my girlfriend's Delta 88 had a full tank of gas, we all piled in, and headed out to Hollywood.  We'd cruise the boulevard and observe the nightlife, which in the late 70s, was indeed colorful, entertaining, and dangerous.  We had rules:  Keep all windows up and doors locked at ALL TIMES, and DO NOT INTERACT WITH THE NIGHTLIFE!!  We used to argue over whether some of those strutting the boulevard were girls or drag queens, but we never tried to find out!  If our parents had known we were doing that, we would STILL be grounded!  We had no mishaps, and were not traumatized by what we saw.  There was a beauty, an art to what we saw, it fit where it was, strange and wonderful, beautiful and forbidden. 
Though really, I wonder how we managed to never be pulled over by the cops on those trips...

Summer Reverie
By C.K.Armistead
August 31, 2014

Wrapped up in the cotton
That fills my head
Old memories thought forgotten,
Feared fled
Have come out to taunt me
With whispers of coolness
And a sweet ocean breeze
That I miss
The heat that bakes my brain
Draws out the things usually stored
Plays again the sad refrain
Of melodies lost and adored.

A  photo of me at the beach when I was 2 or maybe 3.