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Reset Forty-Seven, Day Two
Dec. 1st, 2022 03:20 amWednesday slowly clouded, and by nightfall the sky was opaque. There were hours of wind, but the rain only began at midnight, as November ended. It hasn't become intense yet, and might not at all, and is likely to last only a few hours, but at least its wet. Any wet (within reason) is good after two years of drought. There is supposed to be more rain over the weekend, and is likely to be more through the month, but it's too soon to tell if it will be more than the historic average for the time of year, or if there will be a lot of snow in the mountains to provide us with water next year.
For a while Wednesday evening before the rain began I nodded off at the computer and had something between a dream and a memory. I envisioned the waitresses at the Seven Stars Café in Monterey Park in the early 1960s. Bettye, Connie, Doris, Peggy, and the owner, Sara, who usually sat on one of the stools at the counter near the back. I also recalled Van, one of the cooks, and Joey, one of the young dishwashers. The image was briefly quite vivid, and it was almost as though I were back there, smelling the coffee and hearing the clatter of dishes and the music of the jukebox.
The place changed hands about 1965, after which I seldom went back, and then it shut down permanently a couple of years later. I wonder what became of all those people? Bettye worked for a while at another café in the area, but the rest of them I never saw again. I'm sure Sara and Van and Doris would be gone by now, and if Bettye and Connie are still around they'd be in their nineties. Peggy, who was only a couple of years older than me, might still be somewhere, and Joey could have survived. Strange, how vividly present they seemed in that brief vision, but they are already fading into obscurity again. I guess I'll be joining them in that obscurity soon enough.
For a while Wednesday evening before the rain began I nodded off at the computer and had something between a dream and a memory. I envisioned the waitresses at the Seven Stars Café in Monterey Park in the early 1960s. Bettye, Connie, Doris, Peggy, and the owner, Sara, who usually sat on one of the stools at the counter near the back. I also recalled Van, one of the cooks, and Joey, one of the young dishwashers. The image was briefly quite vivid, and it was almost as though I were back there, smelling the coffee and hearing the clatter of dishes and the music of the jukebox.
The place changed hands about 1965, after which I seldom went back, and then it shut down permanently a couple of years later. I wonder what became of all those people? Bettye worked for a while at another café in the area, but the rest of them I never saw again. I'm sure Sara and Van and Doris would be gone by now, and if Bettye and Connie are still around they'd be in their nineties. Peggy, who was only a couple of years older than me, might still be somewhere, and Joey could have survived. Strange, how vividly present they seemed in that brief vision, but they are already fading into obscurity again. I guess I'll be joining them in that obscurity soon enough.
