Stories: Not Too Far From The Ocean
The End of Polio? • I Was a Long-boarder • The Draft: What's Your Problem? • Timothy Leary? • To Ski or Not to Ski • Butch and Sundance • Dogs, Dogs, Dogs! • Arrivals • It's Just a Car • Fish On! • Music Musings • Walter Mitty Redux • Clamming and Crabbing • Grandpop: Can We Talk?
It's Just a Car
My first job was when I was 14, it was 1955, and I had a paper route, yes, a paper route (a kid on a bicycle riding down the street, delivering folded newspapers to residences around the few blocks in and around my home in Santa Monica). I had about 100 customers and made about $50 a month— not bad in those days. Every afternoon at 3:00 PM, I would await the delivery of my papers from The Evening Outlook, the local rag, at the corner of 27th and Pico, just a short distance from my home and in front of Pickle Bill's restaurant, known for their delectable French dip sandwiches and Kosher Dill Pickles. Later, I discovered I had colleagues and professors from UCLA and the Charles Eames Office who would go to Pickle Bill's for lunch.
One day, while I was folding my papers, I caught a glimpse of a sleek-looking convertible whizzing by on Pico Blvd. that caught my attention. Being a teenager and dreaming of cars, surfing, and girls, not necessarily in that order, I wondered what that car was. After looking at numerous car magazines, I was able to determine that it was a 1950s Porsche Speedster. I was instantly smitten and made a silent vow to myself that I would one day own that very car.
Fast forward to 1968. I was driving down Ventura Blvd. near Van Nuys when I noticed a striking persimmon-colored vehicle on a used car lot. I immediately turned around, and as I got closer, I discovered it was a Porsche Speedster, specifically a 1957 model, and the dealer was asking for $1875.00. Despite being a financially struggling graduate student, I mustered the courage to borrow $1,000 from my Mom and made the purchase the following day. This decision marked the beginning of an unforgettable journey—thank you mom!
It was my primary vehicle for many years, and I had countless exhilarating adventures driving up and down the California coast and the western states. Its compact size even allowed me to glide under the parking stanchions at the UCLA parking structure, resulting in only a few parking tickets a year. In 1978, I restored the vehicle, and it continued to bring me immense joy for many more years. Even after 50+ years, the car remains in my possession, patiently waiting in the garage for the attention it deserves.
