A cluster of visitors stopped by on the first Saturday after the New Year.  Sierra Vickers, whom we first met as a server at the old Good Time Charlie's in Pacific Beach, told me she wanted to visit and would drag along Tom and Jeff.  Anna Chamberlin, in the meantime, said she wanted to drive down from Bonsall and say hello.  That's Tom and Anna standing, and Sierra, myself, and Jeff up front.  Sierra is wearing her Post Malone sweat shirt.  I thought it was competition for FedEx and UPS, but it's apparently a performer who sold out Petco Park the night before. 

  * * *

Marilyn MacNair came by to give me a haircut and Tom LaShell ambled in after breakfast to critique her work from the comfort of a chair.  A surprise guest, whom I secretly invited, was Jean Young, a friend and work-associate of each, who hadn't seen either of them in many years.  Jean's late husband Dave and I taught together at Morse High School and took turns driving to work, so Jean and I knew each other.  I only have two chairs, so Jean sat on my bed.  The distinctive whistle (Roger Miller's King of the Road) in the hallway let me know that John Wilding was making an unannounced visit. "You're in my seat," John said to Jean, and plopped down on the bed next to her.  John was childhood friends with April Poro, who had worked with Marilyn in the field of Interior Design.  Turns out John and Jean knew each other from Saint Brigid's Catholic Church in Pacific Beach.  So it was one big happy family.  I should have broke open the Maker's Mark bourbon that Ken Ptack left, but I guess it was a little too early.

* * *

On January 12th I bought myself a printer.  On Amazon Prime I selected an HP 2800e.  At 10 AM I pressed the "Buy Now" button.  As God Is My Witness, Casey from the front desk walked into my room at 1 PM with the printer.  That was the good news.  The bad news is that, for five days in succession, I was unable to get it to work, the level of bourbon in the bottle of Jack Daniels on my desk getting lower and lower.  Finally I called in the experts, my Webmistress "I.T. Liz" Hedstrom and her brainiac husband Eric.  After an hour, they gave up as well. (I hid the bottle of bourbon before their arrival).  "I have a solution," Eric announced.  "We'll be back tomorrow." As promised, the team returned, Eric holding a USB cord.  My "wireless" printer, like a lot of my friends from the '60s, is now "wired".  And it works!!

* * *

Son-of-a-bitch!  Tom LaShell's financial advisor took all his clients to lunch at the Butcher Shop in Kearny Mesa on January 29th.  He was in the neighborhood, so Tom stopped by to say hello.  I'm pretty sure I could smell Sirloin Steak on his breath.  Valerie Swartz, who visits her mother AND her sister here at Novellus, also has a financial advisor who takes his clients to lunch.  Two weeks ago they all dined at Tom Ham's Lighthouse.  Last, but certainly not least, the fellow who manages the money for Linda Thomas takes everyone to Ruth's Chris Steakhouse -- and that free-loading Jeff "I just wanna bang on the drums all day" Dalrymple gets to go as well.  You'd think my guy could at least bring me Orange Chicken from Panda Express.  His office is right next door.

* * *

“What’s the name of that Italian Restaurant across the street from the Coliseum,” asked my pal Roy Knowles at dinner.  “Tough call,” I replied, “The one in Los Angeles or the one in Rome?”  “No, no,” he said, “the one on Sports Arena.  You know. Pechanga.”  “Ahhh,” said I, “The one where they ‘treat you like family’?”  “That’s it,” he said, “Olive Garden.  I LOVE their salad dressing.  You can get it at Costco.”  I hope it wasn’t a hint.  Roy turned 90 the next day on February 5th.

* * *

A simple query as to why it took her so long to come get me for dinner turned into a vaudeville routine with one of my favorite caregivers.  “I had to get a shot,” she explained.  “Where did you get it?”, I asked, thinking she might have raced out to a nearby CVS.  “In my butt,” she answered, and pointed to her right cheek for emphasis.

* * *

You’re a WHAT? Tom LaShell brought along a guest when he made his first Friday visit of the month — his lovely ex-wife, now Barbara Black.  Barbara brought with her a large plate of fresh-baked Chocolate Chip cookies, placing them on the table with a statement I was pretty sure I didn’t hear correctly.  I shared the cookies later with the folks in the dining room. Oh, by the way, what Barbara said was, “I’m a master baker.”

* * *

Speaking of hearing aids.  Here’s what you’re gonna deal with when YOUR day comes:  not being able to hear the person across from you at breakfast because the fellow way off in the corner is making such a racket trying to open his little box of Wheaties.  Come to think of it, they say actors on stage can hear people unwrapping cough drops in the audience.

 

* * *

My stomach turned as Favorite Server Skylar approached our table, bowed her head and said, “I have bad news. Beginning tomorrow there will be no more eikes.” “What?” I queried.“No more hard-shell eikes,” she replied. “We’ll only have liquid eikes.”  “You mean EGGS?” I said.  “That’s what I said,” was her response -- “eikes.”  I guess the price of eggs went so high the Old Folks' Home couldn’t afford them.  Skylar was raised in Upstate New York where, unlike Brooklyn, they have no accent.  Or at least that’s what I thought.

* * *

Amazon delivered my ZurCheel electric wheelchair on March 4th and it’s changed my life here at Novellus.  I can go where I want, when I want.  No more pressing a button and waiting for an attendant to push me.  At $699 it was a deal.  I had gone on the web and found them as high as $3500 at a showroom in Kearny Mesa. I was bemused by their “Come on down and take one for a spin” pitch. How was I supposed to get there?  Kudos to Linda Thomas for urging me to do this. I can’t for the life of me figure out why I was reluctant to take the plunge.

* * *

 

Mary Mahoney Wilding and friends with lit cigarettes and cans of Lucky Lager after the December 20, 1956 birth of John Christopher Wilding. Annie Wilding and friends (that's sister Jillian on the right) try to replicate the photo above after the May 18, 2025 birth of Callan John Jurek.  John and Kate Wilding's grandson came in at 8 pounds, 10 ounces -- and 23 inches in length.

* * *

On May 19th I completed the sale of my Haines Street home to Seth Pite, a young commercial realtor and La Jolla High graduate I've known for some time.  It's a 20-year mortgage, so in 2045 I'll be 101 -- and Seth will be 47.  Seth brought a magnum of champagne -- OK, A&W Root Beer -- to toast the event.  That's mobile notary Chris Buccat in the middle.

* * *

I had a crew cut in my youth, and may have sported a flat top in my teens, but -- for a day at least -- I was wearing something different.  The lovely Alondra got me dressed and took a brush to my hair.  "Not bad," she said, "Sort of a reverse Alfalfa."

* * *

Vince Barrord took his car in for a complete checkup, preparatory to heading back to his cabin in Michigan.  $4500, and a day later, he heard a ticking sound while headed down Morena Boulevard.  Tick-tick-tick-tick.  It was his turn signal.

* * *

It may have been the next day that Fireman Roy came to dinner and talked about the “beep . . . beep . . . beep” that’s been bugging him in his room. “Maybe the batteries in your smoke alarm need replacing,” I offered.  The next morning he told me the girl that helps him put on his compression stockings asked him, “Do you want me to turn off your microwave”

* * *
 

I'm back in the old neighborhood.  Novellus is a five-minute drive from Hale Junior High, where I taught from 1968 to 1978.  Some of the kids I taught have found me on Facebook.  Julie Carmody still lives in the same house and, lucky for me, visits often.  On June 19th she stopped in and had me autograph my Saratoga book -- a belated Father's Day gift for her husband.

* * *

Even the house flies here at Novellus Clairemont are health conscious.  One circled my head this morning, did a little dance on a crumpled-up wet nap, then continued on its way.

* * *

A week before that a midge (or something tiny) landed on my computer screen.  I took a break from my work and pestered him with my mouse arrow.  Kind of like the cat lovers who tease their pets with a laser beam.

No-o-o-o!  The new regime here has resumed the monthly weigh-ins.  My weight had crept up a pound or two a month -- 150, 151, 153, 155 -- and I wasn't looking forward to my date with destiny.  190!! Turns out the folks who used to come in and manage this event had a scale that magically subtracted the weight of the wheelchair. A discussion ensued as to how much the offending appliance actually weighed.  I opened with a bid of 40 pounds.  "Where did you get your information," asked the attendant.  "Amazon," I muttered. He did one of those little things on his iPhone and -- "Voila" -- countered with 30. He showed me the figure on the manufacturer's website.  I'm still not happy with 160. I'll probably have an extra dessert to assuage the emotional pain.

* * *

John Wilding strikes a carefree pose on the dinette that disappeared from my Haines Street kitchen during a remodel and magically reappeared at the Estrada home in Guerrero Negro, Baja California.  J C Wilding contractors has been visiting and upgrading the Estrada home since the surfing Wildings first met a family member many years ago.  This photo was taken on July 6th.

* * *

They held a car show in the employees parking lot on July 26th and I decided to show off my '53 Chevy Surf Wagon. I had them run a dust cloth over it and it looks brand new.  (No, it's NOT my car.  That was a joke.)

* * *

 

We were a Navy family living in Long Beach when Grandma Lomicka visited in 1947 and took me to The Pike Amusement Park.  Along the way, on Pine Avenue, she stopped at a photo studio and had them take this shot.  I posted it on Facebook and some kind soul sent it back --- colorized.  Pretty cool, huh?

* * *

Come and get me Coppers!!  And make sure the prison bus is wheelchair-accessible!

* * *

The delightful Iraqi-born Windy at the front desk said I needed a recorder if I wanted my toilet looked at. I don't even OWN a recorder.  Why would I need a recorder? And was she talking about a tape recorder or a flute.  Turns out she needed a Work Order. People from other countries often emphasize a different syllable.  Then there's the Spanish-language issue.  Marisa could NOT find my urinal anywhere.  I didn't know the Spanish word for urinal, so we were at a standstill -- until I realized she thought I was keeping a journal.

* * *

Black is slimming, no?  One of these people was not celebrating a birthday when we got together at Novellus on October 4th.  Jeff Dalrymple and I met at College Village Apartments in 1966, so I guess we'll be celebrating our 60th Anniversary come June.  Tom and I met on October 4th of 1968 or maybe 1969.

* * *

Caren Burns, my former neighbor in PB, thought she'd grab a cupcake or something when she flew into Linda's Donuts on her way to help me celebrate my birthday.  Turns out it's slim pickings at 10 AM in a donut shop.  She did grab a glazed twist and pop a candle in it.  It's the thought that counts.  Actually it was delicious.

* * *

These kids today.  Seth Pite stopped to visit with his drone.  (You have one don't you?)  We went out in the patio and he let it fly.  The white flyspeck near the palm trees is Seth.  I'm wearing my black windbreaker, but you can almost make out the legs of my khaki pants.  I think the image would look good as artwork hanging on a wall.

* * *

How did YOU celebrate International Lesbian Day?  Johnnie Wilding wandered into the lobby and insisted on having his photo taken with Juanita and Paulette.

* * *

Sometimes you pull the handle on the slot machine and it comes up all 7s.  I really had no use for the Ernest Tubb songbooks Johnnie dropped off the day before, but WAIT -- Cowboy Bob will be singing in the Family Room at 2!  It put a smile on HIS face.

* * *

Two of these people have the same grandfather.  Donna Van Cleef, a cousin I'd never met, was in town from Couer d'Alene, Idaho over Thanksgiving to see her son Richard.  She was Donna Frye during her second marriage.  Woulda been cool if she'd visited then and I could have gotten a picture with her and Councilwoman Donna Frye, who I knew when she was still managing the shop for her husband, surfing legend Skip Frye.

* * *

The Crawford High Letterman's jacket given to me as "#1 Alum" at a class reunion many years ago had never been worn.   I wanted to post a picture of it on my Crawford High website, but I sure didn't want it to be me wearing it.  That's Grandmother of Four Caren Burns filling the bill in the lobby at Novellus.  "Hey, it's 4 o'clock -- let's get a drink!"  "Oh, wait -- it's 12:20.  Doesn't matter.  I've got tequila in my room."

* * *

That's a sailing ship awash in 1800 Reposado tequila, a decanter given to me by my Girl Friday Julie Carmody.  Great Grandmother Susan Fry is peeking out from behind the decanter.

* * *

I guess they learned their lesson.  Last year Novellus Clairemont had the ball drop at 4 PM which conflicted with the start of dinner in the Dining Room.  I'm not sure about the attendance this year.  A lot of folks were still taking their afternoon nap.  (Yes, I see the Livinrg Room typo)

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My Life In Pictures

My Family Scrapbook




See you next year --





John Fry
5219 Clairemont Mesa Blvd
San Diego CA 92117-2206
Phone or text: 858-242-6268
Email: Johnfry1@icloud.com