Well let's see. How to make this complete
without boring you by the second page. . . .
I was born and grew up in Los Angeles, California, the City of Angels (originally, "El Pueblo de Nuestra Senora la Reina de Los Angeles del Rio Porcioncula"--quite a mouthful, hey? Literally, " The Town of Our Lady, The Queen of the Angels from the Porciuncula River". Now you know why we all call it L.A.)
My two wonderful parents, Art and Eileene sacrificed just about everything they could possibly spare to give me and my sister,
Patti, a great childhood and head start for our lives ahead. They sent me to two great schools, First English Lutheran Elementary School and Culter Academy for Junior High and High School, both near the
Wilshire/Hollywood area of Los Angeles. My Dad worked as
a Doorman for the grand old Ambassador Hotel near Hollywood, across from the famous
Brown Derby at the beginning of Wilshire
Boulevard's Miracle Mile. Mom made a wonderful home for me and my lovely sister Patty, and I can't remember a time when I wasn't happy there. In that respect
Mom and Dad set a high standard of comfort, happiness, and nurturing that I determined to repeat with a family of my own one day.
I was a lazy student but fortunately the rich curriculum of both my schools more than made up for my lack of application in those days. After graduating from High School I made a half-hearted attempt at Junior
College--Los Angeles City College near
Hollywood. I mercifully ended that experience just soon enough to avoid permanent damage to any possibility of graduating with a decent grade point average 14 yrs later--when I decided a College Degree was worth the effort after all.
After my attempt at College, I hunkered down to the World of Work. I'd been an auto mechanic for a few years during summers while in High School, and I eventually managed a couple of
Mobil and Atlantic-Richfield service stations in Central L.A. and Hollywood. I loved work and when I wasn't working at one of the service stations, I'd park cars at the
Ambassador Hotel on weekends, where I could make enough on just two nights of tips as I could in a whole week of punching a clock at the service stations. Working that hard was a great experience for me, which again proved of great value later in my career.
I played as hard as I worked in those days. Surfing, working on my own two "hot rods"--a
'55 Chevy and a '56
Chevy, spending a lot of time driving up and down the Pacific Coast Highway (my favorite road in the world), seeing a lot of movies, and hanging out with the friends that didn't end up going away to college.
I always had a lot of hobbies, interests, and favorite sports and even then I seemed to find time to devote to all of them--stamp collecting (don't laugh), drawing (a passion more than a talent), Japanese Ink Painting or Sumi E, restoring things (you name it, . . . cars, appliances, stereos, antiques), and electronics. I played Municipal Court tennis, and surfed whenever I could.
I can't remember a time when I wasn't happy there . . . Mom and Dad set a standard of comfort, happiness, and nurturing that I determined to repeat with a family of my own one day
Life: There Is No Spoon . . .