Formative Years (First Five Years)

The awful, gaudy, shiny, gold, sequined pants suit that my mother wore so proudly.

Born in Vallejo, California; Traveling for me began by circumstance at an early age rather than careful planning or any noble, culture seeking desire to see the world. (Is their a difference between traveling and drifting, or just ending up someplace)?


Regardless of what we want to call it, my earliest memories are of waking up in a different place, surrounded by people I didn't really know at the time, (turned out to be relatives on some farm in Missouri and perhaps a glimpse into parts of my future.) The circumstances leading up to these memories involved my parent's broken marriage and a slew of my mom's brothers scattered from Georgia to California that were willing to take her (and her two kids at the time) in.


Soon enough though we ended up back in Northern California at another uncle's home, (Thank God!!... no offense to any one but growing up in Missouri?.... c'mon really now!!)


By the time I was 4 or 5 years old, Mom met a man with a job, stability and the means and desire to travel America's highways.... He'd been around. (Mom, having family scattered across the country, always had the destinations that would become routine for us kids.)
They would soon marry but not before my first memorable trip with this man (He's Charlie by the way.)


Charlie took just my mom and I, (he had 4 kids of his own but apparently at the time their mother had custody... I know, skip the details right??!!) Anyways Charlie took my mom and me to Disneyland. It's a Small World is playing in my head right now!!! After we did the Disneyland thing, we were off to Mexico!!! Cool huh?? 5 years old and experiencing foreign travel... Until I was almost kidnapped, (I think)!!! I'll share that in a minute though.

  

outdoor Tijuana markets and it being pretty crowded and all, mom was holding my hand pretty tight... Until I all of a sudden see that awful, gaudy, shiny, gold, sequined pants suit running toward me from across the street... It turns out that the "mom" I thought was holding my hand so tight wasn't "mom" after all... It was an old Mexican lady...maybe perhaps, my future Mami, or Madre!

The first memorable thing about the trip had to have been the small earth quake, probably somewhere around Tijuana. Just a small tremor,... enough to move the car I was sitting in by myself while my parents were inside a store or market or something like that. Not sure I was scared, but more like confused... Next (and perhaps the most) memorable thing was the awful, gaudy, shiny, gold, sequined pants suit that my mother wore so proudly, (seemed like every day)!!!... Here's the "potential kidnapping" part, (my favorite memory). We were walking through the outdoor Tijuana markets and it being pretty crowded and all, mom was holding my hand pretty tight... Until I all of a sudden see that awful, gaudy, shiny, gold, sequined pants suit running toward me from across the street... It turns out that the "mom" I thought was holding my hand so tight wasn't "mom" after all... It was an old Mexican lady...maybe perhaps, my future Mami, or Madre! None-the-less, mom snatched me up pretty quick and put me in the car. Who knows, maybe I am Mexican and was kidnapped and raised by a crazy white woman!!!

Oh well... my life of "traveling by circumstance" has now begun!!

Golden Hills of Summer

Under that beautiful bridge, "The Golden Gate", and through those hills is my home town of Vallejo, Ca.
Vallejo is undisputedly the "Gateway" to the bay as the Napa River from the North and the Sacramento River Delta from the East wrap around Vallejo as they merge into the San Pablo Bay before spilling out through the "Golden Gate" into the wonderful Pacific Ocean... Weaving in and out of those salty waterways are are those "Golden Hills of Summer" that that I remember so well from my childhood. What you see in this picture is the result of that relationship.