Young and Green in the City

By Gary Luders

Here is a boy bespangled by green wanes light of green trees green painted fences; and green cut lawns; as his place at Clayton City College. Here he advanced to Cal. State College Hartsfield to be an Accounting major; only to be instigated to complete a B. A. Liberal Arts degree; as to be fit for a Retail Management job. He had a haunting memory of a Cheerleader Lucy Brooks, the Alpha Phi Omega Fraternity; and his Cafeteria Bus Boy employment; as being his College dream. His Wards Department Store was suitable employment; until his hypos demanded the pursuit of Carpentry in Amador Valley. Soon he had mastered all the crews of Rio Vista Track Home Development. By the winds of Amador Valley; he with a sizable nest egg was only to move on to two prospective State Colleges in the Los Angeles. Here was once again another fruitless College activity effort. Upon return home his Mother had recognized him as the relative Uncle Herman; so she found him a single bedroom Apartment; where he found a public Rose Garden, a Convenient Short Stop Store; a Catholic Town House, the U-Save Liquor Store; as well as finally the neighborhood Rose, Park, Garden Terrace Apartment; which he dreamed to retire to. It was to now to be time spent with the indulgence in of Royal Gate Vodka; and the time of smoking Bell Air cigarettes; and a splendid walk through the many splendid colored roses of the waterfall and pond area of a public Oakland Rose Garden. He went to the U-Save Liquor Store; where he was to wish me a rainbows; and wish me good cheer; all to be with the chirp of a Robin; the tweet of a House Finch and the coo of a Morning Dove.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 22, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477237144

Book preview

Young

and

Green

in the City

by

Gary Luders

US%26UKLogoB%26Wnew.ai

AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

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© 2012 by Gary Luders. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 09/12/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4772-3715-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-3714-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012912269

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

The Bliss of the New Green Morning

The Grey Wings of Herring Gulls

The Blue Theorizing Pill

Driving To Junior College in My Own Car

Business Came As the Presence of Girls in Classes

The Vacation as the Reward of School

California State College Hartsfield, the Pink Carnation

Exasperation Took the Roll of a New Major

An Artist with an Ornithological Study

Ornithology and Swallows

A College of Art and Wildlife

The Artist’s Life plus a Fraternity Man

A College Band in an Artist’s Life

Menthol Smoking and the Morals of College

The Folly of Art Came As Green, Cleaning Fluid

The Artist Life Was His Days of College

Cal. State College Hartsfield as a Retail Store Manger

Is There a Tavern in the Union Hall?

A Nailing Pursuit in Amador Valley

Hands on Training and Trade School

A New Visitor to Amador Valley

The Sweetness of Labor Was Dimmed by Storm

The Rains Came Pelting Down; but I Was Cared For

A Carpenter, As Cal. State College Hartsfield

The Sun Was High For a Low, Brow Accountant

Cal. State College Hartsfield Dimmed Hope

Cal. State College Hartsfield to Carpenter

My Posted Work the Clarinet East Bay

I Needed a New, Metropolitan, State College

The Excursion to My, Hopeful, State Colleges

Oh Where Is My Lodging Far From Home

To a Mature, Single, Bedroom Apartment

Being Laid Down, I Was Picked Up

Good Housekeeping for a Bachelor’s Apartment

Girls Come to Visit Me

The Walk through a Royal Gate to Vodka

The Red, Labeled Bottle of Vodka Dynamite

Alcohol of a Bachelors Apartment

Good to the Last Drop

Acknowledgements

This book is dedicated to my Mother, Wilma Margaret; my Sister and Brother Wilma and Jim; and my Brother-in-law Joe; as well as Uncle AL and Auntie Eve.

Preface to

Young and Green in the City

Yesterday when I was young; the world was naively young; the world was naively green; yesterday when I was young the world was newly young; and the world was newly green; yesterday when I was young the world was both newly young and newly green. Yesterday when I was young; the many the things that I had planned to work for; and all the many things that I and my family would do; and all the great things in public that I was to find accomplished; all the splendid things for us to imagine are still yet to be done. Here all the many people’s hope that I lit too quickly, quickly had faded away. The many good friends that I had made too quickly had lost their place. Yesterday when I was newly young; the world was naïvely young; the world was naively green; the world was truly young and green; yes I believe in yesterday.

The Bliss of the New Green Morning

It was green wanes of light, green, painted fences, green trees and green cut lawns that first came to mind; as I sat on the steps of Clayton, City College. The color of green trees was flagrant, below some, purple-green, Berkeley mountains; which towered over the flat ground of the city made up of small, single-family residences along with some, two-story apartments.

The hour was an early 8:00 a.m.; and a gust of wind came up and raced through a pathway between small portables and the two-story building of Clayton, City College. The wind drew up in the size of a gale; and then spun in a circle loaded with sand and bits of gravel only to disappear leaving the dirt on the path in front of the steps I sat on. This being a September morning I found myself at a City College; and was proud of my chances to attend this school. On the side of the two-story central building was spelt in gold lettering Clayton, City College; and then I got up and walked up the steps and walked into the hallway of the school. I walked with other students; being well-dressed like me. I continued on to the Admissions Office; where I was to meet my mother at a scheduled, counseling appointment. Be there at 8:30 a.m. was the time to be acknowledged. Inside I went to the counter; and saw my mother seated in some, waiting chairs. Soon I met with Mr. Dotson, a counselor and my mother. My mother took a look at me; and then at Mr. Dotson wondering if I was college material. He had a folder with my application and completed, entrance exam; which had a 96, percentile, score result; and said I had a good chance with my, college ability. My mother said I had just graduated from High School; and she wanted me to be a College graduate". So Mr. Dotson said my application was accepted; and he could enroll me in classes this fall semester. He judged mom and suggested a college, orientation course and some, general, education classes. He had reviewed my, High, School transcripts; and enrolled me in beginning, English grammar, Trigonometry, General Chemistry and a physical, activity, soccer class. To this I became relieved as having completed my, High, School diploma; and was now on the threshold to work in the labor market; or live the luxury of being at home where neither of my parents wanted me to be. I shook hands with Mr. Dotson; and followed my mother out of the Admissions Office. We soon went home and had some lunch.

When Dad came home I told him school starts next week; and I think I have chosen the right thing to do. He asked me about my military obligation. I told him I had registered for military duty and was rated 4-F; and did not have to face Vietnam. Maybe it was just as well.

So the next day I went to the College Book Store and looked up the books I would need. I wasn’t sure of myself; but I had to be so I took an English, grammar book and a Trigonometry; and then startled myself to pages of a fully, illustrated, Chemistry, 1A, book. I concluded my search with chemistry, lab Manual. I had my own checking account so I could buy what I wanted as if I was an, honoree, type of College man. My College, Orientation course was to be with field books and handout material. I thought for a moment; and then went and bought a binder, college paper and a few pens. Lastly I had a physical, education class; so I picked up a grey, College sweater, supporter and gym shorts and headed home. My way of transportation was to be by bus. I walked out the College Book Store; and through the two-story, central building on orange, hardwood floors; and all the way down the steps where the earth looked as green from the lawns and cedar trees. My head became light-hearted and green with adolescence waiting to become a new contender of my, College challenge; and put aside the thoughts I had as a kid.

I stepped up to the bus stop packing my package of books, supplies and gym shorts not at all reddened to embarrassment from traveling by bus; but with a rewarding self-reliance that I now was entering a College, career path that my mother had hoped for. As I saw the white front of the bus with its, wide, front-end, windows approaching; I saw its size increase. Soon it came down Grove Street; until I saw its doors became a full, public size to board and ride home in.

On the weekend I had puttered around with my books. I took out my, English, grammar book; and started out with the parts of speech. There was punctuation, parenthetical, adjective and adverbial phases. This was with a good Introduction to the book; as which came after the Table of Contents. My room was made to order; as it had a good, complete, study area, a desk, a lamp; and I kept my binder and supplies in a drawer. I was capable in math; so I took a good gaze at my, Trigonometry, text book. When I was looking over my, Chemistry, Periodic Table, and my mother came in; and asked how I was holding out in my, College dream. She was always ahead of me; so I contended that I had made the right move with her blessings;/ and was ready to go to school by bus line this Monday in September.

I woke up and dressed and ate breakfast. With my lesson-bag of my books and binder; I found my way to the bus stop. It was a painstaking day; where I had butterflies in my stomach. I walked up a hill and then down an avenue which was rowed by green and yellow, Achaia trees. There was no wind in the air; and it was early in the morning being 8:00 o’clock. The blue, sky veiled over the city-built homes standing on mountains coming all as white, stucco, finished structures. Here was a perfect temperate day to enhance my journey. When I took the bus it rattled all the way to College. This was the working class; as well as other students on board; and I found a seat to carry me to my destination Clayton, City College.

The first class was Chemistry 1A, with Dr. Lobes. I had paid my, lab fee, took a seat; and sat with butterflies in my stomach; but was ready for subject matter. The first, day lecture was with a syllabus. Dr. Lobes began with monoculture, the naming of compounds by combining the symbols of the elements into a designated expression. I was dumbfounded when I first saw each element in existence listed on the Periodic Table of Elements. I wrote down common names NA and CL for sodium chloride, common table salt. There was H and O for the atoms of water. Then Dr. Lobes assigned us a lab station; and a Bunsen burner and test tubs and a beaker to be kept in our lab drawers.

The next class was Trigonometry; and having my name being called in role call I received a syllabus and my first, day’s, class assignment; which was on the definition of the cosign of an angle. I scored 96 on Quantitative Thinking on my, High, School Stanford exam; so I was again relieved and took in a chuckle. Over the blackboard was a huge, Slide Rule; where I felt mentally awake to manipulate my, private, slide rule to the self expectation of multiplication and division.

As my time progressed on into the day; I was due in my, class of Eng 52 course; being Introduction to English Grammar. This was found on the first floor of the Main Building; which had a wide hallway, with brown, linoleum flooring. The room was large enough to hold 40, student chairs; and had a black, slate blackboard on its wall. Being seated; Mr. Kimball entered dressed in a brown suit, complemented by a white shirt, with a blue tie. His clothing was to mark the distinctness of an English Instructor; although he only taught a remedial, style, English, grammar course. With an almost, hickory, stick glamour; he began by reciting the letters A, E, I, O and U, with a tone in the voice of authority; and daring procrastination. He then pleasantly said that these letters are to be the heard, letter sounds of our speech. Next in his course syllabus, he listed his Home Office; and the needed textbook. Here was also each of his, course assignments for each day of the semester. Then, he said, With our, English, Grammar, text, book we were to find and learn the idioms, postulates and credentials of good, English Grammar. On the classroom, front, slate, black board the sun shinned through the classroom windows; being a scorning, misfit, eyesight; and mishap to my eyes. Then Mr. Kimball continued with his instruction; as using the blackboard. He scrawled, deliberately the Parts of Speech; as being the noun, pronoun, verb, adverb, adjective, article, and conjunction. This he did with an almost, clear glint in his eyes; as despite the sunshine; he wrote the terms, the adverbial phase and an adjective phase. From his, handout, leaflet printouts; we were to find his, accomplished assignments. Today he handed out some sentences to punctuate; and then a short list of word, spelling demons. Then Mr. Kimball had made with an unaccustomed flint of his tie in the air; and in a, distinct manner said, Class Dismissed. Well as a newcomer to Clayton, City College; I was promoted to a place of study; and with a good review of my courses. I was excited with the promise of Clayton City College; and overwhelmed with its opportunity. As to me this may well be the calling blessing in the use of my life; as for the grandeur of my education. So I left the sunny classroom; and reentered the hall; where I disappeared from the sunny classroom into the warmth of the students of the hallway.

Today it turned out warm; so I ventured to make the rounds of the campus. The Main building was box-like in shape with a hollow courtyard in the center. I saw magenta flowers growing within the building; and the sunshine of sun coming with the approach of afternoon. This building of all of them glowed in an, illuminating sun. Then there was a Field House; which was a two-story gym with a track and football field. The track stars had hazy, warm atmosphere to run on a volcanic, black, cinder soil. The bleachers adored the green, football field. Then there was the College Bookstore found nestled in many, teaching portables to the left of the campus. For population growth more portables were built in front of the College to comply with the attendance.

On Tuesday I took my first Soccer class to be met in the College gym. We were assigned gym lockers; and told to dress and to meet outside. My locker was next to David; and he explained that he was a foreign, exchange student from Argentina; where Soccer was the National game. Having met with the coach, Mr. Albanese who gave us a grin in a denim jacket; we were told to run two blocks to a Park, Recreation Field. So we ran jogging up there; and as we approached the field we were both winded. We had to regain our breath. Here we choose sides; and went into formation and started playing. The game was easy to learn; but tough to play as you had to tally the balls to your own side’s net and then kick a goal. After several skirmishes we all went home.

In a portable classroom next to the bookstore; I had a College, orientation class; which required reading, guide books and the instructional, printed, handout material. There was oral hygiene, with a cleanliness outline.

Then there was the discussion of the history of the college with its rules of safety as a fire, alarm procedure; or the procedure to cross the street. There was information on the transfer process to a State College or U. C. Berkeley. This class was easily graded; and gave a sense of character and self-esteem; which I found I dearly needed in my first week of classes. I remained in the classroom after the instructor and others had left; and wondered what to do. I could eat lunch in the cafeteria; but went to a locker on the second floor of the Main Building; and ate lunch in the hallway. I had my notes on self-reliance and then went to the College library.

The library was large with alcoves of books; and study desks by the row of yellow, oak hardwood. There was a check-out counter, a world globe, a dictionary and a pencil sharpener. How complete a College this was I thought to my self. On the wall were some bulletins on U.C. Berkley and all the nearby, State Colleges. I took my book tot-bag to a room off on the side of the main study area; and found a desk to claim for my use in a place whose walls were lined with encyclopedias and occupational outlines; as well as employment guides. Here I could do my, Trigonometry, math work; as sine, cosine and tangent. Thanks to this College I sat with the student body. Here were business girls, oriental biology students and both white and colored, College athletes. I nodded to one colored man from Kenya, Africa a foreign, exchange student. After a while we broke into a huddled conversation; where I found he was a pre-law student. I asked him why he came here; and he said he wanted to enhance himself with the American way of life. He wanted to complete a legal education with which he can be an asset to Kenya. Also this was his worldly chance for a diversion from his proud, homeland Kenya. I showed him my, math homework; and then said I was lucky to be in school too.

Next I opened my, Chemistry, 1A textbook; and began reading for an hour to gain insight on what Chemistry is and the men of science as well as the place of a chemist in the world of science. In my lab book were some tough assignments ranging from the making of hydrogen gas from caustic soda (sodium hydroxide) and aluminum. Another lab case was to produce chlorine gas from salt water by the use of electrolysis, which is the use of electricity. There was an, involved experiment in the midst of the lab book on titration. Here were pictured two, graduated cylinders with a drip spout on their ends. The two graduated vials are supported by clamps over two beakers made of Pyrex. This experiment was to drip fluid from each graduated vial into a solution of chemicals that have litmus, acid-base solution in them. The object was to measure the strength of acid or alkaline values by watching the beaker’s colors. It would turn red or pink from a measured amount of the compound falling from the vial suspended over each beaker. When I went to review the beginning chapter on chemistry; I looked over the Historic Chemists and found a picture of Newton. I saw he had his vision from his eyes as a cone coming from his eyes. He could picture an object in front of him. This was amazing I thought to myself. Newton can dream; and objects come to sight right in front of him; this is something only a genius can do. I leaned back in my chair and thought that the only one who can dream is the genius and Newton was a genius. To myself I took a look at my pen and then tried to transfer what I saw to another place in front of me. I looked at a flower outside the window and then with my mind saw it in another place right before me. This was dreaming to me; so I looked at the flower again and closed my eyes and saw the flower for a brief moment. This was so rewarding to me that I might be a dreamer. So I took a look at Newton’s picture again; and found he was a most-noted chemist with Newton’s laws. I derived he could dream; and his number to his colleagues was one in a million; and another prospect a hundred, million man. This was startling to me as I might be a dreamer. I may be a dreamer in a hundred thousand or a million even.

I then looked a book by Henry Thoreau; where he said one in a million has suitable, intellectual, perception; and only a hundred million can live the poetic or divine life. To myself I could not go black in my eyes; or bear an ape expression. This expression on a face I have seen on men who were being William Hearst or in people being Hitler. I though never going animal all my life was being the divine life which Henry Thoreau spoke of. I then looked on one more books which was Tom Sawyer, by Mark Twain. Here I found a boy who couldn’t go animal; who as well lived on the Mississippi River and saw life as poetry. He lived near Cardiff Hills; and he saw animals as a cat to be a cure as skunk water for warts. Here was a boy who couldn’t see animal; and life was seen as poetry. After considering that my eyes that saw objects before them was a potential dreamer; and the fact that I saw life as poetry as a Tiger Butterfly or a Vulture over green fields. I thought I might be a real genius or a hundred, million boys. This I kept to myself; as I was proud to be College material and a student of Clayton, City College.

I had my first week at College; and was doing well so far in Math, Science and English courses. If I turned out to be a one in a million man; Think of all the work I could do. I could sit on the riverside and sing Old Man River, You Dream Maker. Then in the moonlight I could imagine myself crossing the river in style someday. To myself I was confident and thought I was maybe a million geniuses; or a possible, hundred, million man. To this I looked to the thought that I may be quite a success someday.

The next day was of a Chemistry class; and in the lecture section we went over the monoculture of chemical equations. Having done this we took a brief break; and then went to the lab and had our, lab, drawer keys. I went to my drawer; and took out a Bunsen burner, thongs, test tubes and a test, tube rack. I was not at all sure of myself along with the students beside me in the lab. The first experiment was to create a mixture that Dr Lobes said was gun powder. Here we had a pistil and mortar; and we tried to grind charcoal into a powder. He had a Charcoal Briquette for each of us. So I ground the charcoal with a pistil in a white, ceramic bowl. When I thought it was ground thoroughly, I filtered it into a test tube. Next I cleaned out the motor bowl to make ready for two more ingredients; as the chemical constituents of gun powder. The chemicals were Sulfur and Potassium Nitrate. Here I progressed to measure out two scoops of caked Sulfur into the mortar and then grind it into powder form. I filled a second test tube with Sulfur; and went to the chunky, white, Potassium Nitrate. I ground this material and filtered it into a third, test tube. Then on my test tube rack I had my three ingredients. From my lab book I saw the formula to produce a product not by chemical reaction; but by mixture into the ignitable, product, gun powder. Again in the mortar went one measure of charcoal, two measures of Sulfur and two measures of Potassium Nitrate. I moved the pistil until the chemicals were thoroughly combined to a grey powder known as gun powder. Dr. Lobes explained that Hercules Company manufactured gun powder in pellet-like granules to be used in live ammunition as bullets or shotgun shells. He said our gun powder is a grey mixture similar to what is used in fireworks.

This being an early our first chemistry lab lesson we must learn to be careful with the end product. Dr. Lobes continued the compound when dry was active and could explode if in contact with a flame. To this we nodded and went back to cleaning the test tubes and cleansing the pistil and mortar; while keeping the gun powder in a carefully, capped, test tube. Then it happened a boy had ignited a Bunsen burner; and for some reason he tripped it; and it fell on his batch of gun powder. An explosion occurred; and the entire room was filled with grey, bitter smoke. At the same time the fire alarm went off; and we shuffled out of the classroom going with the entire school to the gymnasium, track outside. This was big enough to panic the boy who started it. But by the time the Fire Marshal said the school was clear; we had returned to the classroom and opened the windows until the smoke had vanished. Then the Fire Marshal came in and asked the boy why he had a Bunsen burner on. The student trembling said it was his first day of lab practice and he wanted to test it out. The boy wasn’t dismissed from class or expelled. He being frightened said he would promise to follow instructions completely and live by the School Code of Behavior. Because there was some charcoal left in the sink one boy said let’s call the College the School of Carbon Technology from the chemical Carbon Tec-Dichloride. The guilty boy could only hope for his good conduct for the coming year.

On the next day I pursued my Soccer class in the Park, Recreation Field two blocks from the gymnasium I changed into my uniform; and there was David the man from Argentina; who was Soccer, bred man. We privileged ourselves to jog to the field on a fiery-warm day; along the sidewalk at a going pace. Alright men line up, said Coach Albanese; where he took role. He huddled us and gave us a briefing on good practices to be used on the field ground. He said we are here to participate one with another in a sport that will produce athletes of achievement; as well as the exercise needed of College males for their, physical, education requirement. I think you want fitness and fitness is what you will get. I think you want team membership and physical activity for a passing hour. If you meet a foe on the field look out for his safety; as much as your own team’s safety. If you try for a goal don’t be disappointed in the opposite, team’s success. Don’t barge yourself in the field; and use your kick for the ball only. If anyone of you gets hurt, stop altogether; and so the stricken man receives service. You men are all from the same school; so don’t take team scores disastrously; as here is where all the school wins. If we were in a collegian, competition, team work is learned on this field; and what you learn will count when you play competitively. So when we meet with another college this is the time we will stress our efforts for Clayton, City College.

We had just started the first match; and the other team achieved a goal. Our side was behind; and we prepared for a second match. We were spread out in the field when a man said, Hey do you know who I am? To this like a spark my team members raced to the high, chain-linked fence; and saw a genuine Congressman watching us; as here to see the show. Why had a Congressman came to this match I wondered. The one he Spoke to was me; I am sure. At the time I was being on my honor as a hundred, million boys in College. If he came to see me; I should have checked him out; but took a rest instead. Then back in service one man full of a high and mighty spirit butted the world ball with his head. This was someone being the high and mighty; and I was discouraged the man who butted the world wasn’t me. So I went home to the gym. I had only one question to ask, Does a Congressman look for College, million athletes; and then visit their grounds? That was how vainly I participated in sports.

I had as for my hopes for my, College education; as being a one, in, a million, genius; and then being College bread to conspire to work for a living. With my, future, working employment; I would achieve my, personal equity; and then a consummated livelihood. This was to be my, conceived ambition. I knew then of a conceived place; a golden, House threshold. This was to be founded full of colored roses; and coming in my horizon; which was to be as blue and purple; and as the deep, blue sky. This was to be from my day of my ages of study. I then asked my Mother what lies ahead; will there be days of roses day after day? Here is what she said to me, What will be will be; the future is not ours to see; what will be will be; Caser rah, Caser rah, what will be will be!

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When I got my college grades for fall, Semester; they were Chem 1A-C, Eng 52-D, Math 74-B, PE 1-C, Psyc 50-B.

The Grey Wings of Herring Gulls

In January the weather becomes a drowsy glamour of low clouds having green mountains and a thickening of grey skies. From the green mountains edge over the flat city all the way to the salty bay of motioning water, was the gathering of white and gray sea gulls. These gulls being scavengers fed in the mud flats, in the industrial areas; and also in the Clayton, City, College, football field. My first class was Physical Education, as being weight training. In the warm gym on a cold and windy dismal, temperate day; I looked at the swirl of white, feathered seagulls; as they settled on the lawns eating snails and food-stuff liter. One bird had a red apple gripped in his mouth; as he took off and landed on a nearby portable. The sea gulls came in from the white, stormy ocean; and were a benefit to the school; as a bird for cleansing the school paths and lawns of waste and litter.

I fell in line for roll cal; and Mr. Grew checked off attendance. This was to be no, field day of activity; as we were to consume our time lifting and pressing steel weights to gain good tone of contraction, an increased muscle size and a good strength of our arms, back, legs, torso and stomach. Okay! said Mr. Grew; and the Sawdust-filled mats were laid on the floor; being brought in from the storeroom. We took out small, dumb bells and Weight’s of the loud size of fifty, seventy-five, hundred and two-hundred and fifty pounds. First the Coach said, Let’s work out! So we did jumping jacks, all in a unison that made me laugh. Then we tried bur pies that developed our agility to bend in motion. Next was the deep, knee, bends, for the thighs and biceps; along with the stooping and touching of the toes. Last came a drag to our exercise, it was pushups; which I could only manage to do 75, after all of our, other, current efforts. Coach Grew was a stable man who calls out the exercise in a way that got our effort performed. As for the rest of the class period we lied against the padded, gym walls; and pressed weights over our bodies by lying on our backs on the sawdust mats. Say mate, how about you! said Mr. Grew. So I pressed a hundred pounds over my head about a good, twenty times till my enthusiasm began to make me fade away. As if this wasn’t enough; I took a thirty-pound, dumb bell; and lifted them up to the front of my face for about a hundred times as a workout. Breaking out in a sweat, I noticed my arms grow in size. After my exhaustion; I wondered if I could continue the full semester. If so, I would gain my, one, unit, credit and possibly a good formed set of arms, back, biceps and thighs. At the close of class, I helped carry the weights for Mr. Grew back into storage. For the full semester, I grew is size and strength; but to believe it is worth it only if it is stemmed on the command of the Coach; and also for the required attendance; which would grant me a, one, unit credit in our, P.E. course.

The sky was wonderful over Clayton, City College. It was made up of storms of atoms of oxygen, nitrogen and water vapor; coming all around me; and then reaching to the sky in a grey color; which was to be the formation of the fullness of clouds. The clouds were like the shapes of grey lambs and white horses all in the horizon. The next day was not like the last; as it had the gorgeous debut of the flaming, orange sun. The sun was seen coming over the foothills; and the few clouds in the sky were scarlet clear; and with an occasional, black form of a sea gull drifting in the face of the sun. The reason that I noticed these days was my, next class was Art 4, a water, color, painting course. Here we met in an, art, room classroom with Mr. Stevens, an, accomplished artist. He personally took the time to call all of our names; as if to know all of us and treat us as artists of our, own right. The supplies held an intrigue; as being a huge tablet of water, color paper, three feet by two feet as required. A stiff one-inch brush, a soft round camel-hair brush, a paint pallet and an art portfolio was also requested. A can for water, a sponge and magenta blue, Spanish orange, burnt, sienna brown, vermillion red and ochre yellow were but a few needed items. From the chalk board he demonstrated the cleaning of a brush and brush strokes. He demonstrated the design of simple forms; as houses, horses, clouds and mountains. Then he proclaimed our study would be to fill a portfolio full of dried, wet, paper, water, color paintings of landscapes and material from around the campus; and from field trips to places in the East Bay. He wouldn’t say where we would go; but gave us a locker for our goods and gave us time to buy them. He said as class was dismissed to look at the Masters found in the college library; and then studies the sights of life. He said to look at the clouds, the hills of green groves in the early morning and the street lamps on campus. His objective was for us to consider a work of our own. The class was over for the day; and we knew that Mr. Stevens was to make an artist out of each of us.

My class schedule was loaded. I had Eng 51-A, Reading and Composition and Math 1A, Calculus. I went to a portable classroom with my, six-hundred, page, calculus, text book; which I was registered for. I had a right to the course; as I had a B in Trigonometry. So after Roll Call, we went to the description of a complicated graph; and of an equation called a permutation. It was our job to fulfill the equation with assigned values; and then plot them on graph paper. So for a two-dimensional graph we derived from the equation the values of X and Y. Having to list these values took time and a lot of paper work; all to be entered in a class notebook. To define these equations called permutations was our, analytical objective. The first problem was how far a man could run in a given time. This plotted graph had an up, sloping, and graphic line; as to be a chart of the total number of total, miles ran, in a designated time. However, this was not enough; as other factors were found to enter into consideration. Such factors as the temperature of the runner, and the slope of the grade he ran against. Calculus is a mystery of effort; and one of the highest of math studies; which was good for a scientist or an engineer. After class I noted my, reading assignment which I planned on doing all of it at home. Alpha, beta, Gamma, I said. I guess calculus makes a man’s, well, Math sense.

I didn’t have all, my classes in one day. On Tuesday was Eng. 51-A, Reading and Composition. So I went to class having had the rudiments of English grammar; as the parts of speech, and types of phrases, punctuation and as mastery of the spelling of difficult words. Here I got my, College, Harbrace Reader, along with a syllabus of our classroom activity and our daily assignments. The first class began by writing a composition on why the poor do not achieve verbal literacy at High School or even at the college level of study. This writing was to enhance a provocative quest in the student, and for him to take English seriously. It also was to provide the student with good reasons to complete English study with a good mark and a good business writing knack. Our assignment was to read a short story, How to Edit Your Student Paper; and then to read The Elements of Drama, from our Harbrace Reader. So far the course came clear; as to what was; and being from the windows; being the sunlight shining on the classroom desks; that gave us a reading atmosphere. Here the students could read. It was a clear, well, lit room to write notes in our study notebook. To me this was another, good class to achieve my, writing skills; which I would use for my, term papers. Here I gained an outlook on worldly, English prose.

As we left the class we went on to our next subject; which was for me to participate in Political Science. Mr. Kenya came into the indoor classroom on the second story of the main building of Clayton, City College. He had a bow tie on; and a blue suit and was dressed with a white shirt. He deliberately came in late and passed out our syllabus, inspected his audience, by looking at each of us; and then he asked to see the required, text book. He began that the U.S. Government was a labyrinth of institutions, offices, and committees. Continuing he said our representatives has police power. This police power enabled Congress to instigate laws within lawful limits that promote the Order, Safety, Health, Morals and General Welfare of its citizens. To me I had in my textbook with the Constitution of the United States; which was composed of 4,400 words; all being in seven Articles. As the semester passed on in time; I read the Federalists Papers, the Declaration of Independence and some, Supreme, Court cases; as well as articles on current legislation. I was just waiting to find a loophole in government where there was a chance of where an inequity was found to occur. My instructor was an educator interested in holding office. At first he seemed radical; but he held up his interest in the Roosevelt Administration. One day he blushed; as when we thought of him being the lunacy fringe; because we asked him about our, legal, voting age. He felt elite over his classroom; and thought we were not of the aged intelligence to vote. He tested us with the case where Roosevelt wanted to enlarge the Supreme Court to give him a majority of the Democrat, Party, Supreme, Court judges. We were not sure of his allegiance; and we proclaimed that each of us were able to vote. So having read the Political, Science textbook to the core; we took up an argument on the value of voting. We felt we had a legal force with this voting right. Having a need for office he asked his students to give reasons for the vote to be a good part of our government. From our reactions he was to redeem his hope in democratic government. At the middle of the semester, we said the Constitution gave all of us, at eighteen years of age the right to cast our vote for the men and women in office; and secondly the Constitution had a Check and Balance System. Here Roosevelt could not appoint Supreme, Court Justices without an amendment to the Constitution as passed by Congress. This was our, Constitution’s, Legal Freedom; being the Checks and Balance System. This was our classroom plan; and we as voters found our part in government to be valid. Our instructor agreed; and he regarded our, public vote with good savvy. He admired our regard for the Constitution of the United Sates. Once he was a Democrat; but now he turned out to be a Businessman Republican. Before long he wanted to run for State Legislature. This is how the class in Political Science became a political influence; but our grades were only a C average. For good State Government he was again lofty, above his students and was a worldly, Constitutional, Republicanism. Here I learned Political Science; but my instructor was found by his and our vote, a possible, privileged, Republican Candidate.

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Every class was a challenge; but if you had ability you could make good and excel in a good manner. My last class was Physics 10, Introduction to Physics. It gets tiring to attend classroom after classroom; but I came in a large hall of slanted desks in front of a large counter and a blackboard. I climbed up the steps to the rear where I could well oversee the entire class. Mr. Gentry then came in; and took a quick overview of the students; and because of its size, he read roll call. After that the textbook name was written on the black board; and a syllabus for the semester was handed out. Mr. Gentry then began by saying that Physics involves a scientific and analytical mind. Some topics are simple as the boiling of water to create steam; which would then be used to spin a fly wheel to create a circling motion. Other phases of Physics are complex; as the Theory of Relativity; being E=Mass times the Speed of Light squared. This is Einstein’s theory from which the Atomic Bomb was produced. In this second creation of motion, a nuclear fission was created that produced an instantaneous explosion; which was capable of destroying a whole city. The laws of Physics involve the principals of mechanics and electricity as laws of energy or momentum. Now this will be a primary course where you will consider gravity, sound and magnetism. As Mr. Gentry was speaking, he was disrupted by a drip after drip occurring in the lab sink in the large counter he stood behind. Being frustrated to a red blush by the giggling of the student body; he took out a handkerchief and blotted out the sink, drain noise. He was upset with no physical law; or any legal law and order to the class. So he went before the counter; and assigned the first, reading assignment; which was Chapter 1, Physics in the World Today. Soon he overviewed the Chapter; and this was enough for today. Then he said there would be a quiz on the chapter in the next class session.

I had a good concern for this elective course in Physics; and it was an invention of mine. For years I had pondered and considered a new means of travel which was an anti-gravity machine. I climbed down from the desks and made an attempt to talk to Mr. Gentry. As he put his books in his satchel, he gave me an earnest look; and then he invited me to his Home Office. We walked down the hall; and finally he unlocked his door; and he allowed me to sit down. At first I wasn’t sure of myself; but being seated at his desk I took in a breath and consumed my self in good posture. I spoke for a moment on science; and then told him I had a home, Chemistry lab; and had developed in my mind an invention I called an, anti-gravity machine. To this Mr. Gentry took a pause, looked at my study books, and then considered me a standard student. He then settled back in his chair and said what is it? I said, I as a boy had a toy gyroscope; which if spun as by a string the spinning wheel could defy gravity if its tip was placed on the edge of a table. To this he raised his scalp above his eyes; and said I can remember a gyroscope as a boy’s toy. Indeed the motion of the heavy, flying, heavy, wheel will content the whole, metal chassis from moving from its position; as long as it is resting on a fixed point. Then he said, "Gravity is a constant force, now how can you defy it; and travel in disregard to the laws of gravity.

I took my time and said, If a weight was spun on an axis, and the weight will push away from its central axis. I said, The weight in a box will push a box to the right and then back to the left as it rotates in a circular motion. Then I said, If you spun the box around before it spun in the second, other half circle, the weight would again then push in the same direction. Thus the centrifugal force would push the box on wheels in a given direction I concluded. To this Mr. Gentry took out a handkerchief and blew his nose; he wasn’t aggravated; but the tension of being both a college instructor as well as a student friend was tiring on his nerves. I went on, If I wanted to generate a force as to be up against the gravity of earth; I could produce a Helicopter which could oppose the laws of gravity; and fly as a Helicopter would. Through this exasperation, he grinned and then broke down to a chuckle. He looked at me with some hope. Then his feelings became personal, until he said, There is always a chance for a new idea; but the physical laws of Physics has been standardized and made permanent. I told him, A Helicopter is what I presented as my find. Then he said, The laws of Physics are all that he knows. As time went on it was time for the next class. He said, I can give you a book on the laws of Physics for you to seek and prove your theory on paper. Then as with music in his eyes he became excited with a helicopter or my flying machine. He gave me a comprehensive, Physics book; and wanted me to search out a centrifugal, force laws governing an, anti-gravity machine, for myself. I thanked Mr. Gentry; and told him, I had plans of building a model machine. He gave me the book, shook hands; and told me to come back soon. Then I said, I in a tearful manner said, I will study the book; and this was my, first encounter with any, real instructor of Clayton, City College. I then went out the door in the late afternoon with his book; and then I went home. It was an evening of a grey twilight; as to be taking the bus transportation the only transportation that I could afford.

As the sunshine progressed; I worked out in P. E. training, did Calculus work, read and wrote English assignments and studied Political Government. Too express what I am is what I did in all these classes; but one class I could enjoy my, final product which was Art 4, Watercolor Painting, with Mr. Stevens. I can remember going in Mr. Stevens Van to the Berkeley, Yacht Harbor to do watercolor s of the wharf and its yachts. For one assignment; I unbridled my, paint equipment; and took a place along with the red hauls of pleasure, cruise, private boats and fishing, party boats. The hour was 10:00 a.m. Now there was a lull in the tide; as well as a time when there was a still in industry; and only a faint haze from the industrial works coming from the city. Here was laziness in my bones; and in the bones of orange-billed, sea gulls; and even in a large sun that blended a fire heat into the bays, green water, topped with traces of lavender oil from the docked harbor.

I picked up a creative sight of the long redwood wharf with its stained and barnacle timbers and piles. I searched down the pier; as it got smaller with distance the more yachts and boats were seen. First there was a yacht with a magnificent, red sail of cloth hanging on an upright mast; which was depleted by lack of wind and a staggering, heat wave. The white, painted cabins had orange-varnished, steering wheels. First I took a look at the depth of the wharfs water; and found it to be about, 15, feet deep for a silent, boat haven. The water appeared to be alive; as if there were minnows and perch under the planking. There were white and yellow cabin cruisers; and an, abundant amount of sailing vessels; which also had a motor engine to provide power; when stillness dared the Bay harbor. With orange, yellow, lavender and white, water colors, I painted the wharf. There was Alcatraz Island, the Golden Gate; and the call of the ocean forming a yellow horizon with the blue sea. I completed my painting and went home in Mr. Stevens Van. I had another two by three, foot painting to let dry on my, paint board.

One night at the proper hour of ten o’clock; when my parents weren’t home; I visited the basement of our house. Here I had two, bicycle frames; and a huge, generating motor; and sparked, charged battery built together. I had a small plumber’s iron kettle with which I made lead weights suspended on steel rods. I had a bicycle chair to sit on; and a maze of weights which could spin on their axis. To this I had all my lead weights pushing outward and with Yankee ingenuity; and had a force that would push up. I pushed my, mechanical machine out the door. When I looked at the magnificence of the machine; I saw my seat and a control panel to monitor the speed of the machine; all being secured to a welded chassis. So with good hope; I got on my, machine seat; and started the motor having a complexity of things happening. The motor would turn spinning wheels; and spinning wheels would spin around. It was a vampire, black night with all the stars to guide me. So up, up and away in my, beautiful machine; I went into the bleak, colored sky under an almost, full moon. I scared the neighbor’s cat; as I left the ground; and I witnessed an, arched, cat’s back and his dreadful scream. All the gardens of the block started to look smaller; as I rose above the rooftops of the streets. I itched, felt squeamish; and was agitated in the peril of the flight of my, anti gravity machine. I was soon well over the city gliding through the haze of the atmosphere. I guided my machine to Clayton, City College; and came down by my guidance to the flag pole. I said excited, I feel like a valiant voyager in the flying, antigravity machine; as if I were to go directly to the mellow, yellow moon, after rolling by the horizon of the city on my machine. From the city across the bay; I came courageously in a heroic flight to Bad ago Bay. I saw the silver, pattering waves flowing to the shore; and the professional steaks of the harbors, clam traps. There was the hockey of the Common Egrets; and a Bald, Eagles nest high in a bristly, Pine tree. I touched the ground and rested in a fear of the red-eyed bears of the wilderness. I picked up a dead crow; and like in madness took off and flew over the churning, bay waters; as going back to my home. As I settled my machine in our lot; I was overwhelmed with the fear of the law; as I might be reported by my neighbors. I pushed my anti-gravity machine in my basement; and had the possession a troubled body of a dead crow. I had my crow in my hand; and looked out my door at the patient night; where I saw no one there but the patient night. I covered my machine with a cloth. I didn’t sleep much that night; and when dawn came; I was soon asleep. This was Saturday; and a day of rest from school.

To conclude my semester at Clayton City College; I took my, wharf, water, color painting to my Eng 51-A, instructor; and when I presented it to her she gave me a novel entitled Pony Boy. I can always remember her words You are burning the candle at both ends. Now spring semester was over; so I vacated my lockers. I then went to the grey gymnasium for the attainment of my grey, gym suite and supporter. I was far too late; as the custodian had put my, gym package under the floor of the gymnasium; where I found it with my, locker number on it. I thanked the brown, dressed man; and took my, washed bundle out the door; and walked through the season of the sunny, yellow sky; and walked through the gymnasium, track field; from where I took a bus home.

My grades were Art 4-C, Physics 10-B, Eng 51-A-C, Poly Sci. 1-C, Math 1A-C, and P.E.1-C, to me I was nothing more than a success.

The Blue Theorizing Pill

Because I was enthused in college; and wanted to put my time to work, I registered for summer session at Clayton City College. I took one course Eng 51-B, Reading and Composition. This was held in the main building on the first floor, with Mrs. Selkirk. English was difficult for me; but I had my syllabus for the short session. I had my Harbrace Reader; as well as a book which was a play entitled Saint Joan of Arc. I sat in the rear of the class and our summer began. First Mrs. Selkirk had us write essays as on "What Makes up a Good Short Story.

Before long we were reading the play Saint Joan of Arc. I had read the first and last chapter; as well as shimmed through the book. I wasn’t sure why the play was chosen; but it involved a young girl to be princes Joan of Arc. She was a roughhewn character, about 18 years of age. She was an opportunist who had risen to power; but was put to death in an unearthly manner. She, after leading a revolutionary Army was apprehended. As a consequence for her warfare was to be sentenced to death. The manner of death was to be determined by her. It would be either to be beheaded by a guillotine or to be burnt at the steak. Having faced a court of judgment; she belligerently accepted to be burnt at the steak. How the girl chose to face the Hell of a fire, as she was bound to a steak seemed questionable.

She had been involved in supernatural powers that were a part of her being. This girl being in her teens was a proposed church member. She was a philosophical and religious personality; as well as a type of military or political figure. She was herself a capable general; and led as a girl an army that overtook a province by force.

The play starts out with Joan as a member of a monastery. In her chambers, as well as in the bell towers of the church, was portrayed as hearing voices. These voices blended in her mind and were heard in the church chimes. For a continued period she heard voices; and they told her how to be. She being in a monastery took the voices as to be her, spiritual guidance. Confined to her room, she was told to consider a crusade revolt on a province. As time went on she convinced herself that these voices were of God; as she being in a church, monastery membership.

You could hear a pin drop as we read this play in class. Each of us took a part to read the play. Then we would consider suggested questions that Mrs. Selkirk would ask. This was a difficult English class; and we went over Saint Joan of Arc as the focal point of our, reading matter. We had class discussions on the play, its characters and what the author’s intentions were in writing on a young monastery girl.

On a normal day we read "Joan of Arc’; or read from our Harbrace reader. This was a reading, composition class; which was complicated for us all from the start. We had to read and then analyze and summarize our text reading for a composition grade. We did most of our reading at home. I would have dinner and went to my room. I would rest and study all to myself. Then a strange episode occurred to me. As I sat alone I imagined hearing voices speaking to me. I could not reason where these voices came from. I could not help myself from hearing them. At first I gave the voices little concern; and I only questioned where they came from.

The next day was the class of Eng. 51-B. I road the bus to school and studied in the library along with the students of Clayton City College. I saw the foreign exchange student from Kenya there too. I studied alone and by myself as the months went on.

In Eng. 51-B, we were assigned as students to read the play Saint Joan of Arc through its entirety. As the play progressed; the voices that Joan heard in the monastery guided her to become an activist and to agitate the church guard. She had convinced herself as being a leader of the monastery gang; and when armed she proposed to take over a foe. Being a hardened child; she with her monastery clan forced attack on and went to war a province.