1968: California Trip Part 5

So we woke up in Yuma, Arizona in some classic one story motel. I remember driving and driving the night before, and the same next day. The parents never lost their cool over setbacks like that, or argued, it was just accepted as a setback and no one was going to die, so all was good. They came from a generation that had seen war and depression…how could driving an extra distance and staying in a motel be a disaster? No way. Coyotes in the park where no one else is camping? Yes, possible disaster. But driving more to avoid that and staying in a motel…hell no. Two obnoxious boys cooped up in the back seat arguing or doing lip drums, throat sounds and nose guitar sounds? Yes, they lost their cool! No one likes spit on the back of their neck or in their hair. [Eat your heart out Bobby McFerrin, we invented that shit, not you. Hahahahhaha].

So here we are dragging that foldout camper, The Nimrod, (what a title, hahahhaha…sounds like it means “Stupid Dick.”). For the uninformed, a fold camper was a solid steel trailer about four foot high on two inflated tires, and the top folded down was a tent cover support by aluminum or steel “pipes” that all folded out into double beds that hung out over ground on both sides with a tent roof overhead. We had to haul a bi sheet of plastic with us because f it rained or we knew it was going to, we put the while sheet over the tent to keep it dry. Otherwise we would be stuck at camp all day waiting for it to dry. You don’t want it t be moldy and wet the next day with wet mattresses and linens, and water dripping on your nose while you try to sleep. Also we kept a potty bucket inside so we would not get attacked by a bear walking to and from the bathroom. Had to be careful not to trip over the bucket in the morning in case someone used it, or worse, put your foot in a bucket of piss lol. If your aim is good and yo have to poop, same bucket. Just go out and dump it somewhere quick away from the tent 12 feet I guess. Leave it out and wahs it down at the pump the next day. Also had soap and water to wash our hands out there. But move fast…those damn bears are out there.Worse than bears? Mosquitoes...that was motivating enough to “Move it Pyle, move it.” (See Gomer Pyle USMC TV show for explanation). Well that’s the city slicker version of camping rules.

So taking the “8:10 out of Yuma” (instead of the movie title "3:10 to Yuma" which would be too late in the day, 0r too damned early in the morning, and the wrong direction anyway), we took off for California. Seems we went across the Hoover Damn if I remember right. Why the hell they named it after my cousin I don’t understand. He wasn’t even an idea when they built it and could not have worked on it or invented it. But I have heard the phrase “that damned Hoover” many times when passing a neighbor’s house on the street because this lady had a vacuum cleaner that kept breaking down. Perhaps that is where the Hoover Damn title came from….But I digress….and have already stretched this joke way too far…because I can now hear my cousin saying "that Damned Timlin."

We made it to some town about and hour or so away from San Diego where my mother’s brother, Lyle Bond lived and worked for the local TV station, and announced for the San Diego Chargers during football season esp. on the radio. He was the “voice of the Chargers. [We won’t go into how many celebrities he knew and such since this is about the trip and not specifically him]...

We got to a small local picnic park in a town somewhere in CA. Dad called up Lyle’s house on a pay phone and let them know we were coming in that day in about an hour and a half. [I am surprised they did not leave town after sandbagging up all the doors and windows knowing that lip drum and nose guitar champions were about to arrive]. We got out of the air conditioned Olds and found it was 109 degrees like they said on the radio. Dan and I thought hey, there’s a drinking fountain; let’s get a nice cool drink of water. What we got was a nice drink of hot water. Damn we forgot to bring teabags…Within 5 minutes we were all back in the car, it was too damned hot for Midwesterners who only saw 90 degrees in MI once or twice a summer, before global warming!

We arrived late that afternoon at Lyle’s house and I believe he was not there yet. His wife Violet always a gracious host and always remembering our birthdays and Christmas, greeted us. I just remember Lyle and Vi being so excited to see us.  Think I brought my Clown Wallet which Vi had sent me for my birthday 3 years or so before. I bet I showed it off to her. They had a period of separation the year before but all seemed well after that. I had met Lyle several times when he would come back to MI to see his mother and sisters during football season in the 1960's, seems almost every year for about 5 years. In 1967 they had both come (Vi and Lyle) and I have still pictures (“B & W” I think) I took and a short segment of silent home movie film all in our driveway. In the next chapter I will try to cover the three days and nights we spent there.