The Stories Between the Chapters
These shorter stories capture the moments that didn't require a full chapter but still deserved to be remembered. Each one offers a glimpse into a life shaped by curiosity, resilience, and a touch of subtle satire.
UNDERSTANDING THE FALLACY
OF DIVISION
One of the curious habits of human beings is our determination to sort eight billion people into convenient little boxes.
It saves time.
Unfortunately, it also sacrifices accuracy.We meet one rude tourist and conclude the entire country must be unpleasant. One dishonest politician convinces us they are all crooks. A single reckless driver becomes proof that everyone driving that model of pickup truck is an idiot.
LOST AT SEA
A TEEN’S ADVENTURE
At fifteen years old, along with my best friend Willie McNeil, known to most everybody as Jay, I took my first deep sea fishing trip out of Pierpoint Landing in Long Beach, California. I got hooked quicker than the fish did. The smell of salt water, diesel fuel and fish scales suited me better than school ever had.
I struck up a conversation with the skipper and offered a deal that favored him considerably more than me.
From Dragnet To Detective
One of the clearest memories from my childhood involves laying flat on the living room floor beneath a giant wooden Philco radio waiting for the opening notes of Dragnet. I must have been about five years old, though at that age time moved so slowly that a half hour radio program felt like a major life event.
The moment those four dramatic notes started, I was completely absorbed. Nothing else on radio sounded like Dragnet. Sergeant Joe Friday and his partner Sergeant Ben Romero spoke in short clipped sentences that made every conversation sound important.
SIGNAL HILL
WHERE OIL WAS MORE COMMON THAN COMMON SENSE
There are towns that become famous for their scenery, their architecture, or the character of their people. Signal Hill, California, chose a different path. It eventually became famous because somebody discovered there was an astonishing amount of oil hiding beneath it, and after that almost everything else became secondary.
THE OTHER SIDE OF
THE BAJA PENINSULA
Most people today call it the Gulf of California. I still prefer the older name, the Sea of Cortez, partly because John Steinbeck used it in The Log from the Sea of Cortez, and partly because it reminds me that explorers were once allowed to name things without first consulting a committee.
Steinbeck understood Baja better than most. He wrote:
"Trying to remember the Gulf is like trying to re-create a dream... We must go back if we live, and we don't know why."
DUCKTAILS, FLAT TOPS AND
CAR CLUB FRIENDS
If you were a teenage boy in Southern California during the 1950s, there was an unwritten rule.
You either belonged to a car club or you spent a good deal of time wishing you did.
Most clubs borrowed names from history's great warriors. The Huns, Barbarians, knights, Mongols—you could be forgiven for thinking Southern California was preparing for an invasion instead of Saturday night.
MORE THAN A GOOD LEFT HOOK
Growing up in our house, Monday and Friday evenings belonged to boxing.
Not to the fighters, mind you. They merely supplied the entertainment. The real contest took place in our living room, where my father and a few of his friends gathered around a ten-inch black-and-white television. Between them they consumed enough beer to improve every fighter's strategy from the safety of our living room.
The evening always began the same way.
"Look sharp... feel sharp... be sharp..."
