Those 70ish Girls

Pt. 3 Life’s a Trip by Valerie Halla

When I drove to LA, my plan for the third part was to visit my High School friends in Orange County which is further south in Mission Viejo and San Juan Capistrano. More driving on my agenda but it was worth it. “Old friends improve with age.” Uh, no that’s not the right saying. “Old friends are good at any age?”

Wine improves with age or is it “Good wine is good with any friends who age with enough good wine?” I think that’s it.

Anyhow, I got the GPS warmed up in my car, after making a reservation at a hotel, and headed out to meet my good friend of 60 years that I had met in junior high. It’s incredible that I made it without getting lost with thousands of freeway signs, traffic , and exits and driving past all the Disneyland turnoffs and attractions I had recognized from my teen years living there. Driving the Southern California freeways is kind of like the rides at Disneyland, exciting and interesting and imaginative while at the same time as unreal as Peter Pan, Snow White or Cruella de Ville

I got to the hotel and my high school friend, Pam, picked me and my dog up to go for dinner – which we had arranged with our other old high school friend, Jerry, and his wife, Pam. My friend, also a Pam, came and we hugged and chatted for a while then left for the restaurant. We ordered Cadillac margaritas while we waited. Pam said drinking alcohol makes you relax more when you’re socializing especially with some high school friend you had not seen in 50 years. After waiting for about 15 minutes, in walks Jerry with his wife. They were obviously in their 70’s walking bent over, stiff and wobbly. Jerry looked like his handsome self except with more gray, as I had remembered him being a close friend with my deceased husband, Ken. In fact Ken had been best man for Jerry at his second marriage at which I had attended. The wedding had been on a small yacht in the harbor at Newport Beach, so we as young newlyweds felt privileged to be there. Ken wore this cream colored tux with ruffles on the peach colored shirt. That by itself was shocking to me because Ken – the ex hippie – disliked dressing up like that but he did it for his buddy, Jerry.

We hugged Jerry and Pam as my friend met Jerry and wife since she didn’t really recall much about Jerry at our huge high school. We had about 300 in our graduating class in the late 1960’s. It took a while for Pam to warm up to Jerry. He mentioned that maybe she knew his first wife from high school, also a Pam. This was getting more interesting every moment. We talked about Ken’s passing and how much Ken and Jerry were alike: both were quiet, did not like crowds nor people and rebellious, also super good looking, which I noted.

His wife mentioned their two grandsons and their divorced daughter living with them. They were busy with responsibilities and the graduation party and the ceremony that week for their oldest grandson. Pictures were shared. The contrast with high school now compared with our high school years was apparent.

All the old days came swooping over us as we talked and ordered our dinners. The years since the Vietnam War, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, The Beach Boys and hanging out on Huntington, Balboa, and Redondo Beaches. Our yearbook which no one could find now, packed away in some cardboard box to be forgotten. The years melted away like the ice cubes in our margaritas. We connected. We joined our teen years again and lamented losing classmate and pal, Ken.

All in all it had been a sweet reunion. Later Jerry texted that he had a tough time holding it together and that he had cried later. He had lost a good friend, his best friend in high school. We swore we would get together again and search for the old high school yearbook from 1967, but would we try, would it matter? Maybe it would matter to a few of us old folks.

Maybe I’ll go buy a bottle of wine to see if I can find the memories, the good friends, and the good times in the bottle, with each glass, each aging sip, each memory.

Life’s a Trip by Val Halla

Have you ever thought you could not possibly accomplish something difficult? You doubted your own ability. It’s too tough, it’s monumental, like climbing Mount Everest, swimming across the river , without a life vest, a tweed vest, any vest.

I’m here to tell you, text you, email you, call you, shout it out: You can do more than you fathom is possible.

You are capable.

You are stronger than you think.

You should challenge yourself.

Life’s not going to throw fun opportunities at you. You have to go get them.

I checked into my hotel and got settled. I texted my son and decided on a time to meet for lunch the next day and said I would be bringing my cousin Mary and Uncle Gus who had chosen a restaurant right next to their hotel. They didn’t have a car and they didn’t know what Uber was. They could barely spell it and a taxi was too much. I was their chauffeur. It was coming together or so we thought.

I didn’t think I could drive the CA freeways taking 6 hours to see my family in LA. But I packed up my new car, got gas and grabbed the dog, dog food and took off. I did it. I drove to Los Angeles to see Aunt Loretta’s husband Gus- Uncle Gus – for his 94th birthday and Cousin Billy’s wife turning 80. As a bonus, Cousin Mary flew in for the celebration and she had one free window of time on a Saturday. She was attending a special luncheon, semi formal dinner and a picnic so she could barely fit me into her weekend party schedule. She was invited as a chief member of the family- (Gus is her stepdad) – and she seemed very busy, but I think she was just playing hard to get. I persisted.

If you have ever seen The Californians on the SNL comedy series, that’s exactly how they drive and think of themselves in LA. “You take the 5 to the 210 to the 134, head south on the 5, then transition to the 110, take the right exit off 6th street, pass the In-n-Out…”

I have to admit that I would never have gotten to LA without GPS. It was like a cacophony of vehicle noise and overpowering freeway signs when you enter the explosive multitude of lanes and people in The City of Angels. They must have a large group of employees just behind the creation of signs displayed above the 8 or 9 lanes and exits on I 5, south, north and the 405, the 110 and you name it. You must stay alert because your lane can lull you into thinking you’re safe and then it disappears and poof, you’re snapped into action finding another lane praying it’s taking you the right direction and then the correct exit. You can get sucked into the freeway vortex. The GPS lady tries her best to keep up and help you. If you panic, she will suggest a special California therapist for you. Even they know the stress of freeway travel. They have experience to ease your troubled mind.

I found the hotel in Glendale and went up to their room. There was no one to help me in the lobby, just some robot screen that wouldn’t talk to me. I relied on my own brain and feeble memory and texting. Welcome to the future. I got into the elevator and pressed 2. Luckily there weren’t any more choices.

Uncle Gus saw me walking down the hall and said hello and I gave him a hug. Mary was in the bathroom. I had my dog so Gus petted her and talked about how they took the train from Ontario to LA. I sat in a chair and gave Gus his birthday gift. He liked it and my dog liked the comfy bed. Mary emerged and we had a great reunion. We hadn’t seen each other since a Jones County Reunion a couple years ago but the years melted away. She looked almost the same.

She curled her hair as she walked me through what had happened in the two days she had been in LA. Like Sandersons do, we talked about other people who weren’t there and therefore had no way of defending themselves. We covered cousin Bill- her brother- and some of their family members. There had been a dinner cancellation for that night at a fancy restaurant so I was invited after all! Ninny,my dog, was not invited, so I had to graciously turn it down. Besides I didn’t have any fancy clothes. Mary showed me what she would be wearing. I was impressed. It was all black and red stuff, a red top and flimsy flowery flowing jacket to match with basic black pants. She had strappy shoes. She talked a lot about her hair and how short it was in the back. I told her it was way shorter in back. She said to never get your hair done right before a trip to meet relatives. I agreed with her.

Turns out the restaurant right next door to their hotel wasn’t open until dinner so I texted my son to find us another place fast! I also mentioned I had my 8 pound dog, but we could hide her in the soft sided kennel. I said that my cousin and Gus didn’t care what they ate, just so we could talk and slap our knees when we laughed at the stories we were telling.

My son texted where to meet and after getting Gus settled in the backseat of my SUV with Ninny, Mary in the passenger seat acting as my navigator, we tried leaving to go to lunch except my car kept buzzing at me, another pesky robot or computer. I found the icon on the screen, jumped out and fixed Gus’s car door as he chatted on his cellphone like a 94 year old teenager…94 is the new 14.

We got to the restaurant with Mary’s expert directions from her GPS avoiding freeways thankfully. There were Matt and friend Jeanne waiting at a table out on the sidewalk at a cute little cafe. We made it.

When You’re Right, You’re Wrong by Val Halla

It was a bright sunny day and I was flying down the road, in a car, not a jet, feeling like a million bucks with five bucks in my wallet. I was enjoying my new shiny car which had more features than a computer. I was still discovering what this car could do. It had computer chips and sensors in there, too, somewhere, with free parking, snacks and access to the staff lounge included.

The right songs were playing on the radio, uh… on Spotify I mean. I was singing the wrong words to the right songs plus thought I was a regular Linda Ronstadt. More like Kermit the Frog when he sings. I was feeling good and groovy. And every little thing was so right, that’s exactly what I thought. Just when you think you’re doing well and on top of the world, at least on top of your game, the game of life, then yup- things turn on you. Kind of as the world turns you’re drawn along in circles. It’s a merry go round but it ain’t fun. You think you have control, but oh how wrong you are.

You know that feeling when you have a dreamy sunny bright day, your bills are paid, you think you look good, all is going well, you can dance all day long and you’re cool, high school cool, thinking you’re better than everybody else, but you’re not. You’re barely mediocre. If you were an apple, you’d be bruised, dull and overlooked. That was me only I didn’t know what was ahead.

So I went to Costco for a few items, why not, thinking that would raise my spirits even more, and I came out 3 hours later with $349.55 worth of heaven knows what, but I thought I needed it all. I mean who could resist a six pack of bubbly water in ten different flavors? Or laundry detergent in a two gallon pack with 500 washes? So you might die before the 500th laundry wash, that’s irrelevant. So you can’t lift the bottles- so what. Sling it into the cart. I also got a hot dog and a drink for $1.50 plus they do not accept tips. I asked. The Costco worker said he could meet me in the parking lot a bit later if I really wanted to tip him. This was a real steal. I was flying high on bargains. That hot dog saved me some dough. I had practiced quantity over quality purchases! Costco gave me a high. I was a sucker sucked in big time like a high powered Dyson vacuum cleaner. Maybe they should name Costco “Lost, Yo!”

I had parked my new car there with the 50 million other cars all jammed together in tight parking spaces with no room for an overloaded shopping cart. I didn’t care. I was willing to risk everything for the great feeling of overdoing it and over buying stuff that I didn’t need but thought I did. It took me about as long to load all that $349.55 in purchases as it had taken for my whole shopping experience. If I couldn’t fit this stuff into my new car, where did I think I’d put it in my house? I was really flying high. Who cares?

I drove home with things piled up to the ceiling and onto the floor and on all the other passenger seats. I even balanced stuff on the dashboard. I had enough paper products to last til 2045 and enough food to last until next week. The dog would love the treats I’d bought her, 500 to a box. She only weighed 9lbs but I had 20 lbs of doggie treats. They were green, like the color of cash. I used my credit card at Costco.

When I got home, I decided to load up the wheelbarrow and just push it right up the front porch steps and on into the house to unpack all my things. After two loads I decided to rest. Then I saw it. As I came outside to get more of my bargains, I noticed a long scratch on the drivers side front fender. Could it be? Maybe I was looking at it wrong. Maybe it was a highlight like the sun hitting a curve in the shiny new exterior. My heart sank or maybe it was my ego. Or my bank account. Something sank.

The car was 5 days old and it needed to be fixed. I paid about a million bucks for auto insurance so why not pay the $500 deductible. My Costco trip cost me $849.55 in reality, real life, a knock on the head real life stuff, when you added it all together.

To make a long story even longer, I called my insurance agent and filed a claim. I dropped off my car after getting an estimate and took it in the next week after they ordered bumper and sensors and a gold plated fender, to be left for the week. I took a $40 Uber home. I had kept my old car so I had something to drive. Phew.

When I picked up my car from the body shop a week later, it looked gorgeous – brand new 2025 beautiful. That’s good because it is a 2025 model. I had to take another $40 Uber to pick it up because I was too embarrassed to tell any neighbors who would have driven me there.

Not bad for a Costco trip of $929.55. So glad I went that sunny day and saved so much money. When you’re right, you’re right.