Disappearances

Everything that is ever thought or done by people disappears. All human reasoning and actions die, because the minute they’re done with, they belong to a time past and they don’t come back.

…Well, they may survive for a while, but they are on borrowed time.

What is history then…History is only what we keep hold of in order to explain the present in a way we like.

But things, things last. They last beyond the time when their significance has been forgotten.
-Morag Joss
Half-Broken Things

Twenty-five years ago today:

October 6, 1984
Saturday

I telephoned Sue Miller about Ole’s Waffle Shop for breakfast. She agreed and we are going to go. She mentioned that she had some news about Bonnie Jayne, our Alameda High School classmate and friend.

“Bonnie called me and she had a rearrangement of her custody hearing for her daughter, Crystal Joy,” Sue said.

Sue kept on going with the Bonnie stories. Bonnie was currently living with some guy named Melvin Jackson (possibly of Native American Indian descent) in Oakland somewhere. She had not mentioned plans of returning to Alameda but she was working nights at some factory where they make string beans. And during the day Bonnie worked at a Temporary Services Agency.
“Bonnie told me to say hello to you,” Sue added.
“I miss her, but there's always a story with her. She's always pulling a disappearing act.” I said.

PHOTO: July 1975,
A Photo I took of Bonnie Jayne
during our School Days

Suzy and I walked over to ‘Piggy Malones’, a card/gift shop. I purchased my fair share of cards and postcards (a full $11.00 worth). I returned home after that and got on the bike.

I decided to ride via Doolittle Drive and out into Lake Chabot and Castro Valley (one of my favorite getaway riding locales).

On my way I saw mom in her front yard, watering down a window screen. I stopped for a quick five minutes or so to bid her farewell.

I continued on the journey and saw dad walking on Harbor Bay Parkway. I stopped to talk to him for a minute. He smiled from ear to ear when he realized it was me. I guess Dad has decided to get serious about his weight (205 pounds) and do something about it. I was happy to see that he was taking this long walk. After our brief talk I continued on the journey to Lake Chabot.

I rolled my tongue at a few people during the ride and I think it phased their day—in a good way (especially the blond cyclist that was going around the Lake).

I saw two little twin boys who were so cute. Little did I know at the time of riding that Mike Miller and I would be dancing with two twin girls from Danville that very evening! They weren’t all that cute.

After my ride and during my ride a thought crossed my mind.

‘If I ever got killed riding my bike I would want everyone to know that at the moment before the collision I would be thinking, “Oh My God…No No No!” However, just before the collision I had and have had the greatest of greatest feelings while riding my bike. Death on my bike would hurt (most definitely) but once it was over it will have been my Joy Ride to (Death) the End. My spirit will surely live on—as well as my memorabilia. Things tend to last a long time.'

I still want to start my People File. I will do it. I can even will a personal item to each person as instructed within each file. What a great idea.

Mom and Dad came over to my pad while I was riding my bike. Mom made my place all the more ‘spic and span’. She loves doing it. I love her thoughtfulness for doing so.

Mike Miller and his friend, Greg Manachevitz called and we were all going to go out. I had previously telephoned Paloma but she did not return my call while I was at home. When I tried calling her again she was not at home.

Mike Miller drove Greg to some overweight girls’ house in Oakland on 8th Avenue. Mike and I met her seventeen year old sister. They had a 5th grade chubby brother, too. He reminded me of me when I was that age.

Mike and I ended up leaving and ate at NIKKO’s in San Francisco on Van Ness. We walked by the Hard Rock Café but we didn’t get in the ridiculous line. It was hard finding a parking space. I was happy that Mike was doing the driving for a change. We cruised around the Kabuki Club and then headed over to Barnaby’s. I enjoyed one Long-Island Iced-Tea and I Madras cocktail. We had a good time hanging out there. We met some twin girls from Danville and danced with them. Though I like Mike a bit more than I should—we always have a good time when we go out.

On our way home some idiot went through a red light illegally. I am really glad that Mike went by his instincts and did not “GO” on the green light or we both may have been “gone” at that very instant.

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Remembering Jon-Erik Hexum

"One of my strongest traits is confidence; at times I'm amazed at my confidence, even when it doesn't make sense that I should be."
-Jon-Erik Hexum

In the early 1980s there was this ruggedly handsome young man of Norwegian parentage who was seen as the "next big thing", and then suddenly he was dead from an accident via a self-inflicted gunshot wound.

Hexum was born and raised in Tenafly, New Jersey where he was a musically gifted student at school playing both the horn & the violin in the school orchestra, and even the piano at home. He then attended Case Western Reserve University in Cleveland, Ohio before transferring across to Michigan State University studying bio-medical engineering and then switching over to philosophy. Whilst at MSU, Hexum played football, and DJ'd at several local radio stations under the name of "Yukon Jack", before being discovered by John Travolta's manager, Bob LeMond.

Hexum allegedly turned down plenty of opportunities to appear in shows such as "The Dukes of Hazzard" (1979) & "CHiPs" (1977) and many day time soap operas before finally making his debut in the TV series "Voyagers!" (1982) as time traveler Phineas Bogg. He was then cast as hunk Tyler Burnett alongside Joan Collins in Making of a Male Model (1983) (TV), and then as ex-Green Beret, Mac Harper in the TV series Cover Up (1984) (TV).

However, on October 12th, 1984 after a long and draining day's shooting on the set of Cover Up (1984) (TV), Hexum became bored with the extensive delays and jokingly put a prop .44 magnum revolver to his temple and pulled the trigger. The gun fired, and the wadding from the blank cartridge shattered his skull, whereupon the mortally injured Hexum was rushed via ambulance to hospital to undergo extensive surgery.

Despite five hours of work, the chief surgeon Dr David Ditsworth, described the damage to Hexum's brain as life ending, and one week later on October 18th, he was taken off life support and pronounced dead. However, Hexum's commitment to organ donation meant five other lives were assisted or saved with organs harvested from him. The youthful & charming Hexum was dead at only 26 years of age.

Twenty-five years ago today:

September 23, 1984
Sunday

I went to visit mom at 9:30AM and ended up having breakfast there. How convenient.

I was supposed to call Bruce when I got up to see about hiking. Then I realized that I would have to chauffeur him to the hiking destination and I was in no mood to do so. I did not call him after all.

While at mom and dad’s house I telephoned Karyn Kossoff to see if her pal, Joann, had arrived safely from New York. I also wanted to wish her a happy week of vacation time. Karyn is ultra sweet.
“If you’re in the area go ahead and drop by,” Karyn said sweetly.
“I might just do that because I have wanted to do a bike ride into Berkeley,” I replied happily.

As it turned out, I dropped by on this very day. I met Joann and found her to be really short. Her teeth also looked sort of yellow (but I won’t hold that against her). She was really very nice. While looking through Karyn’s photo album I learned that an ex-beau of hers kind of resembled me (at least Joann made a point of saying so). He had a moustache though. I wonder if that’s the ‘plus plus’ reason for her strong attraction towards me? Whatever. She’s a sweetie in my book.

PHOTO: Michael J Armijo ID cards

I went to visit Howard Edelstein since he lived on Claremont in that same North Oakland vicinity. He was not at home though.

I took a ride via College Avenue and into Berkeley and dropped by at Barbara Reynolds place at about 1:30PM. She was not at home either.

I cruised along some park in Berkeley that was adjacent to the 880 Freeway. I never really knew of this park. Then I headed home and went to mom’s house for juice refueling.

I watched “Cover-Up”, a 2-hour movie starring Jon-Erik Hexum and Jennifer O’Neill. It was okay. I thought the actor, Jon-Erik Hexum, was extraordinarily handsome. It was just an okay movie.

I went cycling after the film. I did my usual Shoreline Drive ride along the beach. When I returned home the phone rang. It was mom calling on behalf of Tony.
“Tony asked me to call you because he has two passes to the Moscone Center tomorrow for lunch and a free T-shirt,” mom said.
“Sounds interesting…okay, I’ll come over to get the tickets.”

When I arrived I discovered Helen Wong there. She was visiting Tony (I guess). They both work in Downtown Oakland now. We caught up on some people and events from the old Downtown Oakland office in which we worked. It was nice to see Helen.

I suddenly realized it was already 6:30PM and I should have been home because I was expecting a phone call from Paloma. Oh well…

I received a letter from Bill Helbush and a card from Salima Nasardeen-Hamilton. I decided to reciprocate and write them back. They were sweet enough to take the time to think of me. They are both ‘bright’ and ‘good’ company.

I also plan to watch a movie called “Paper Dolls” tonight. It is starring Morgan Fairchild. I like her. She has such sex appeal despite her slippery little nose.

I am debating on whether or not I should call Karen Jackson (of England) tonight or not.

Hours passed and I did not call Karen Jackson. I began to watch “Paper Dolls” but got tied up with concentration on my letter writing to Bill and Salima; whereby, I turned the television off and focused on music and writing.

It was about ten o’clock when I decided to take a shower and simply ‘hit the sack’.

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Thank Heavens for Harriet

What harm is there in dreaming, if it eases pain?
What good is reality,
if it blots out hope?
-Bette Bao Lord
"Spring Moon"

When I worked at Charles Schwab & Co. in the 1990’s I had a client who would come to visit me semi-frequently. Her name was Harriet Cutler. She was an elder lady and we ‘hit it off’ with conversation and fondness for one another. She was certainly old enough to be my grandmother but I could still see ‘the young woman’ in her. I even told her so.

When I left Charles Schwab in 1999 we continued our friendship, mostly by the exchange of postcards. She would still travel and would share anecdote happenings of her family, travels and books in her correspondence. She volunteered at the local Santa Monica Library and would love to inspire children to read.

One time I asked her to recommend one of her favorite books to me. She suggested a passion for “Spring Moon” by Bette Bao Lord. I did read that book and absolutely loved it. I learned a lot from it. The story took me to Old China and it shared much wisdom. I gave Harriet much praise for the recommendation.

One time Harriet sent me a photo of her when she was very young after I had requested it. It was fun to see that. She loved to read and write. I loved that about her.

Time has passed and her postcards were becoming fewer and fewer. I did arrange the few times we met for lunch in Santa Monica. It was always my treat.

PHOTO: October 19, 2001
Michael J Armijo, Harriet Cutler
Book Sale, Santa Monica Library
It makes me smile NOW to see how happy I made her feel in the above photograph. I did not really notice it at the time but as I see this photo I recall the snugness of the hug.

Only days ago, on August 28, 2009, I received a phone call from Marcie, Harriet’s daughter. It seems Harriet passed away on July 6, 2009.

She will be very much missed by me. Marcie said that she had an emergency surgery for a perforated ulcer and went through rehabilitation steps. She had been doing just fine. Eventually, she was under 24-hour hospice care at home, passing away in the comfortable setting of her own home. I imagine her surrounded by her many books. I wish I knew more of the titles on her bookshelf. Thank heavens for having a little bit of Harriet in my life.

Twenty-five years ago today:

September 16, 1984
Sunday

I received a phone call from my mother in the morning. She is just fine. All is good.

I telephoned Karen (of England) and we made plans to take the ferry to Angel Island today. We were too late for the noon ferry ride, so I drove her out to my ‘necks of the woods. She liked Alameda. We did some sun bathing out at South Shore Beach and she threw me for a loop when she spoke.
“This reminds me of New Zealand, very much,” Karen said.
I laughed in wonder, having never been to that part of the world.

I saw a guy named John (from La Val’s Pizza) at the beach. He’s a nice guy. I have run into him a few times. Is it just a coincidence?

Karen and I headed for Orange Julius at around 3PM and then over to the Ice-Cream Dock for dessert. We went to my place and I began to nap as she took a shower. The sand can be evil when you are lying out at the beach.
After the shower, Karen came out wearing only a towel and said, “I want to go to bed.”
I was already lying in bed in my underwear.
“Sure,” I said, wondering if she meant ‘sleeping in bed’ or ‘the naughty-naughty in bed’.
We lay there together naked under the covers (I slipped off my underwear). I liked the warmth of her body against mine. I began to make very minor attempts as we both touched a bit.

The sun had both of us quite tired and this was about all that I can say as we both snoozed for a bit. I felt awkward and was kind of nervous.

Soon enough I found myself getting up and I took Karen back home to San Francisco. She was home by 8pm on this Sunday night. I got lost via side streets as I was in the tenderloin area (I think) and then drove through Mission Boulevard and 6th Street until I finally found an entrance to the Bay Bridge.

I went over to mom’s house and munched on some mixed-nuts and sipped thirstily at the orange juice that was remaining in the refrigerator.

I returned back to my house. I was bummed out mainly from my lack of performance with Karen. The freckles on her back were a slight turn off. I guess ‘I could have’ taken advantage of the sensual situation but she seemed the type who just wanted to lay there while I did all of the work.

I telephoned Chris Cordellos. His friend, Grant, answered the telephone. This bummed me out, too. Chris started to insinuate that Grant is ‘the one’ now. I assume they are an item. I acted rather drab on the phone.
Suddenly, Chris said, “I think my mom would sell you her bar for a thousand dollars”.
“Yeah, if only I had the money.”
We pretty much closed our connection at this point.

I guess I miss the Chris Cordellos companionship. I will have to realize that there are new paths I can take.

Now for my shower…
It was a long-awaited shower, too. I am tempted to now call Jim Koran in Los Angeles but I would rather not chance the listening to his recording device again. I will wait for his reply from the card I mailed to him.

I saw a beautiful girl on the beach today (never mind that I was on the beach already with a beautiful girl). This beautiful girl was with that geeky bartender who works at McGee’s Pub on Park Street. He was also with Janice Van Gundy the day I had traffic school.

I saw Michele Mikami at the South Shore Shopping Center, too (another pal from Alameda High School).

I kept thinking of Karen (of England). She told me she kept a diary. I wonder what she wrote about me on this day. The English wench stole a roll of film from me. I did not have the heart to demand that she return it.

She would ask him to find the telltale sign of a beginning or an end.
He never could, and each time she smiled and said,
"It is as it should be".
-Bette Bao Lord
"Spring Moon"

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The Assassination of Hajji Khiyal Akbar Afridi

“Don’t start pulling that string or the whole fabric of our world will be unraveled.”
-Lauren Bacall
as heard from the not-so-good
2007 film
‘The Walker’

ANP stands for the Awami National Party. The ANP’s mission is to establish a prosperous, peaceful and liberal society in Pakistan based on democratic pluralism, cultural diversity, social justice, non-sectarianism, and national sovereignty of the country.

I would like to do a memorial tribute blog today on a righteous, peaceful man known as Hajji Khiyal Akbar Afridi who recently lost his life on July 15, 2009. (Hajji is an Arabic term of respect for someone who has made the pilgrimage to Mecca).

Khiyal Akbar was an active worker of the ANP. He was recently visiting the USA in June and July of this year with other Afghan leaders. My cousin was honorably selected to give them a tour of his Native American pueblo while in Santa Fe, NM.

PHOTO: Afghan Leaders, Santa Fe, NM
photo provided by Daniel Moya

I remember seeing this photo of Hajji Khiyal Akbar Afridi as he was holding my God Daughter, Micaela.

I had commented, “Wow, Micaela looks so cute. And I see we have the love of ‘watermelon’ and ‘world peace’ in common.”

PHOTO: Hajji Khiyal Akbar Afridi
with Micaela, Santa Fe, NM


Khiyal Akbar Afridi, in his 60s, was playing an active role in restoration of peace to the volatile gun-manufacturing town of Darra Adamkhel as head of the Amn Committee. He was the former president of the Tehrik-i-Azad Qabail. Khiyal Akbar was an ardent Pakhtun nationalist, a disciple of Abdul Ghafar Khan and a close companion of Khan Abdul Wali Khan. He had secular ideas, but the arrival of Taliban in his town brought some changes in his ideas.

Afridi’s son said that two men riding motorcycles came to their home on Wednesday evening of July 15, 2009 and wanted to meet his father. He added that when his father came out of the house, the attackers suddenly opened fire on him. The attackers, it was learnt, also opened fire on children and women present in the house.

There seems no apparent reason for his killing. His elder son, Afzal, who had seen the attackers, says that they were Taliban. But since he had no adverse ties with the Taliban, why would they kill him? Only two things might have led to his murder. First and foremost is the internal bickering between the two factions of Taliban in Darra — one led by Commander Tariq and other by Abdul Momin — as he had some leniency towards the former.

Another reason might be his recent one-and-a-half month visit to the USA from which he returned on July 6, 2009. Whatever the cause of his killing, the fact remains that Darra lost another prominent leader, leaving very few leading personalities in the semi-tribal region.

It is sad when a country loses someone that offers much hope. God bless Hajji Khiyal Akbar Afridi. He has recently been added to the list of ANP martyrs.

As read in an article dated February 11, 2008 at Kyberwatch.com this explains the current relationship between ANP and present day Afghanistan:

After the presidential elections in Afghanistan a fresh and close relationship was established between ANP and the Hamid Karzai-led Afghan leadership. ANP’s three top leaders Asfandyar Wali Khan, Afzal Khan and Afrasiab Khattak visited Kabul several times and got fully state protocol in the Afghan Capital.

In April 2007 a high level gathering was reported in Jalalabad for the inauguration of Baacha Khan Markaz in which Asfandyar Wali Khan was the chief guest while Hamid Karzai also attended the ceremony with an official delegation. Karzai announced a state medal in the name of Baacha Khan and also a package of education and health for Pakistani based Pakhtun community.

After the ceremony Asfandyar Wali and Afrasiab Khattak left for Kabul along with Hamid Karzai where they stayed for one week and held meetings with several American and European officials. In Kabul they enjoyed a protocol of state guests.

After such relationships Taliban and other Jihadi groups seriously noticed that ANP was once again entering in Kabul. These groups wanted ANP to withdraw its support towards Karzai and Americans.

Here are some interesting TIMELINE reports found online against the ANP that have thwarted hopeful PEACE efforts for Pakistan:

Sept. 21, 2007: Former Fed Minister and Central Leader of the ANP, Mohammad Afzal Khan, suffered injuries when his car came under fire while riding with his nephew, Nazim Matta, to his village of Dreshkhela.

Dec. 9, 2007: Abdullah Qureshi was killed in a suicidal attack near the NangoLai area check post. He was passing through the area when the attacker blew himself up resulting in the killing of several other civilians. It was the day when the Labor Party Pakistan’s fourth conference was taking place in Lahore. He and other delegates from the valley could not attend because of roadblocks and military operation.

PHOTO: Abdullah Qureshi


Dec. 28, 2007: Former Pakistani Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto was killed along with twenty-eight others by an assassin who fired shots and blew himself up after an inspiring Bhutto election campaign.

PHOTO: Benazir Bhutto, b.1953, d.2007


Feb. 6, 2008: In the Karachi area of Suhrab Goth, ANP Sindh Vice-President Fazal-ur-Rehman Kakakhel died ‘on the spot’ when assailants sprayed a volley of bullets on him.

Feb. 9, 2008: Around thirty-one ANP activists were killed in the area of Shabqadar.

Feb. 11, 2008: President of the NWA Chapter of the ANP, Hajji Anwar Shah, was among the dead when a teenage suicide bomber blew himself up amidst an ANP gathering with the tribal Lashkar. The Lashkar tribes’ people were raised by the Dawar area to evict foreign militants from their area, which according to them, provoked military operations by the Pakistani security forces and caused them multiple hardships. Among the ten killed was ANP Mirali President Bakhtiar Khan Zeraki.

Oct. 2, 2008: The residence of ANP leader Mr. Isfandyar Wali Khan of the Charsada district of Pakistan was involved in a suicide bomb attack. Five people were killed: Mr. Walikhan’s security guard, two policemen, a Bank Manager of the National Bank of Pakistan and a local ANP leader named Shamsuzaman Khan.

Dec. 2008: The TTP (Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan) insurgency captured the Swat valley area and is now considered dangerous for tourism.

Dec. 31, 2008: Three persons including a local ANP leader and army personnel were killed by unidentified armed men in different incidents in the Swat valley area of Pakistan.

Jan. 22, 2009: Violent riots broke out in several dominated areas of the Karachi metropolis after the killing of a local ANP leader, Ashraf Agha, age 35. He was shot dead over some old rivalry.

Feb. 11, 2009: Alam Zeb Khan died of excessive injuries when a powerful bomb went off near his car. The ANP became a major target of the outlawed TTP (Taliban) after its PEACE deal with the Maulana Fazlullah collapsed in Swat, Pakistan (a valley and an administrative district in the Northwest province of Pakistan). After the PEACE deal collapse a military operation began to target the TTP (Taliban).

Feb. 13, 2009: TTP (Taliban) senior commander, Hakeemullah Mehsud, said in phone calls to the media, “We carried out this attack and will continue attacks on ANP leaders in the future.” This was in reference to the Feb. 11th killing of Alam Zeb Khan.

Late May 2009: The Pakistani Government began a military offensive to regain control of the Swat valley region.

July 15, 2009: Hajji Khiyal Akbar Afridi, a prominent tribal ANP leader of Darra Adamkhel town was killed by two motorcyclists who called him out of his house near the Zangali Canal. It was a clear case of ‘target killing’.
In Karachi, a spokesman for the ANP has said that killings of ANP workers continue in the city. The government has failed to stop the target killings.

July 26, 2009: Senior ANP leader, Lateef Afridi, said “The Pakistani leaders were in fact protecting the TTP (Taliban) militants.”

Aug. 5, 2009: A former President of the ANP, Shehnshah Khan, 32 and his bodyguard, Hakeen Kahn, 40, were killed by armed snipers at a SHELL petrol station. Shehnshah’s wife was miraculously unharmed amidst the spraying of the bullets.
For more of the latest news, please visit the Awami National Party website about their continued quest for PEACE, DEMOCRACY and DEVELOPMENT:
http://www.awaminationalparty.org/news/


Twenty-five years ago today:

September 2, 1984
Sunday

Wayne, Paul and I ate breakfast at Ole’s Waffle Shop in Alameda on Park Street. We saw a cute blond in line behind us. Wayne started to get all excited.

After the Ole’s breakfast we strolled along Park Street and over to Alameda’s South Shore Beach. There weren’t too many people out.

Then I continued to play ‘Bay Area’ tour guide, taking them to Berkeley as we looked through a lot of the shops there. I wanted to buy things but I kept my cool about it.

I took the Englanders to meet mom and she was babysitting Ashley at the time. It was just as well. My mom got a kick out of hearing their English way of speaking.

I ate dinner at the Lung Kong Chinese Restaurant in Alameda. I suddenly realized I was beginning to get tired of the ‘Paul and Wayne’ snappiness and their overtly outspoken ways.

I decided to go out with the English duo and chose Baxter’s that evening because I was in no mood to go back to The City. We met Theresa and Lorna. Lorna told me she’d call me before 10AM on Monday, Labor Day to see about spending time with us. (She never did). Nope, Lorna Kerr did not call as promised. Oh well…

We also met some girls from Denmark (of all places)! They were okay. It was my first time drinking beer through a straw during this entire night. I was downright ‘wasted’.

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Growing A Garden

'I finally understand how my father felt about me.
He is a piece of me, just as I was a piece of my own dad.'
Jason F Wright
"The Wednesday Letters"

More people are getting their hands dirty to grow their own vegetable gardens. Why would one want to grow a garden? The obvious answers are to
a) improve your health,
b) simple home economics,
c) learn new skills and
d) for the sheer joy it brings in an outdoor setting.

My dear cousin, Linda Louise Korenke, lives in Idaho Falls. Her father, Patrick A Tafoya, passed away on April 10, 2009 in Denver, Colorado. She wrote me of her visit to him before his passing away. She was happy she was able to see him before he lost his fight to cancer. She sent me his obituary in the Denver Post via electronic mail. I thought I would post it on my blog in remembrance of him. I never met him but I felt I knew him. His mother (Jesusita Garcia) and my paternal grandmother (Mathilde Garcia) were sisters.
PHOTO: Jesusita Garcia-Tafoya, b.1894 d.1945

The very end of the obituary gave me a pleasant view of Patrick who loved 'growing a garden'. I believe he loved gardening for the sheer joy it brought to him. My father (his first cousin) was the same way.


PHOTO: Matilde Garcia, b.1898 d.1964

Patrick was the 5th child born to John B. Tafoya and Jesusita Garcia. Before Patrick was 18 he joined the war program training school in Salt Lake City, Utah taking night classes to finish high school. He was employed by the Ogden Air Depot in Hill Field Utah for almost 2 years prior to induction into the Army. He served in the US Army from 1945 to 1946 and in the US Air Force from 1946 to 1952 being stationed in Germany and Japan. He was a propeller specialist and a maintenance mechanic.

PHOTO: Patrick A Tafoya, b.1926 d.2009


Patrick married Beverly Jean Martinson in 1945 and born to this union are:

Patrick Jay Tafoya, Paul Anthony Tafoya, Linda Louise Korenke, Sallee Loretta DeLange, Michaela Dae Meyers (Boots), Raymond Lawrence Tafoya, Theresa Mary Wilson, Gilbert John Tafoya, Barbara Joan Tafoya, Gloria Jean Denney. Patrick and Beverly lived mostly in Idaho where Pat worked as a laborer on the railroad, in the Monsanto mine, and Georgetown mine. They later divorced in 1963.

Pat moved to Denver where he had his last son Edward James Tafoya (Henry) with Ophelia Trujillo. He raised Henry with Felipa Barrera.

Patrick worked as an ambulance driver and at the Denver Mint for 28 years. These 28 years plus his military years were added together making a total of 34 years working for the government.

Patrick was preceded in death by his parents, siblings Chlorinda Tafoya, Charles Tafoya, Joe Tafoya, Sam Tafoya, Johnny Tafoya, Gilbert Tafoya, Elsie Abeyta and Jean Pate and 2 children; an infant Gilbert John and Michaela Meyers (Boots). He is survived by one brother Benjamin Tafoya, and two sisters Evangelina Montoya and Eleanor Montoya. Also surviving are 8 children, 34 Grandchildren and 22 Great Grandchildren.

Pat enjoyed enjoyed reading history and war books, playing with electric trains with his sons, collecting coins,
Growing a Garden;
and after retirement hanging out with his friends and sister Eleanor at the VFW and the American Legion.

Twenty-five years ago today:

Friday,
April 27, 1984

All sorts of goodies were brought into the office today for two special events. It was the last day for David Vigil (he was transferring to Business Marketing/BSC-Business Service Center in San Francisco). It was also the birthday of Barbara Pauley.

After work it was 'Happy Hour' time as the celebrations continued at Maya Azteca, a restaurant in Downtown Oakland. I had a couple of margaritas that got me reasonably "tipsy". I bid farewell to David.
"I'll call you in a couple of weeks to go bicycling," David said as he dangled his margarita glass with the salt on the rim.
"Okay, you better!"
"And I'll put in a good word for you at the BSC so you can get into the department, too," David said as he continued to effeminately sip his margarita.

I drove Helen to my parents' house for dinner after 'Happy Hour'. Tony was making a 'tortellini pasta' dinner for us. Both of my parents were working. I also gave Steve Gaster a ride to his Alameda home.
"You know, Steve might be a possible roommate for you," Helen suggested.
"Yeah, maybe," I said as I did some second-guessing that living alone might be better.

After the 'tortellini pasta' dinner we watched PAPILLON, the movie (Tony, Helen and I). At 11PM I telephoned Chris Cordellos but there was no answer. After all, it was a Friday night. I went to bed.

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Fire In The Hole

"Your gift is like no other," he said, and to himself, I shall treasure it always.
-Bette Bao Lord,
in her book
Spring Moon

For the last few years one of my photographer friends has shared words of wisdom and her expertise of 'floral photos' with me. Her name is Andi Hardwick. In her portfolio at EyeFetch.com she wrote:

'You'll see a lot of shots of flowers for a reason. When I was laid off from my job as a PC designer, for the third time, my partner and I decided to start our own business, a neighborhood garden center, "Grandma's Gardens". In order to identify the Iris colors, I took their portraits. Needless to say, we have many more flowers now, and they all smile for the camera. I hope some of their faces infect yours with smiles also. Enjoy!'

I had an ongoing joke with her about one floral photo (pictured above). She even changed the caption title to one I suggested: "Fire In The Hole". I bought a greeting card version of the shot at her RedBubble.com site:
www.redbubble.com/people/ahardwick

Andi passed away last Tuesday, February 10th in San Jose, CA. She fought a hard battle not once but twice against cancer, this time it won the war. She was so talented and I will miss her photography. Her charm and humor lives on with me. I never did meet her face-to-face but I always felt her spirit, love and joy.

Today I have chosen an excerpt from a recent book (I recently finished reading: 'Spring Moon' by Bette Bao Lord) as a tribute to her life and recent passing:

Why do children cry in the night? He tried to remember.
He asked softly, "What is the matter? Do not cry! Was it a bad dream?"
The child shook his head. Slowly the tears fell like brave soldiers before the King.
"Was it a ghost?"
"I..." His words burst forth. "I do not want to die, I do not want to die like True Mother. Why do I have to die?"
He put his arms around him, comforting him.
"You see, if no one died, the world would be a terrible place. There would be too many people, no room to grow food or play. So it is better to have a season and live each minute until it is time to join our ancestors."
The boy nodded, "Tell me what will death be like?"
"Do you remember what it was like before you were born?"
He shook his head.
"Did you feel anything bad?"
"No."
"Were you frightened?"
"No."
"I think that is what death will be like."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Now lie back and I will sit here until you are asleep."

Twenty-five years ago today:

Thursday, February 16, 1984

Lexi called me from 'Passport Photo' in San Francisco (her workplace) while I was working today. I returned her call and we exchanged a few words.
"I saw Bill at the Trocadero Night Club and he mentioned you," Lexi shared.
"Yeah, what did he say?" I asked.
"He actually said you were an 'old age' item and that he hadn't talked to you lately," she revealed.
Did she call him on his behalf? Did she really call just to share her conversation with Bill Helbush? She wanted to discuss more.
"Why don't I call you at around seven o'clock?" she asked.
"Sure."

I had a traditional dinner at home with mom, dad and Tony before I headed out with errands on my mind. It was fun to experience family, fun, laughter and togetherness.

I went to Pro-Cuts in Alameda for a quick hair trimming. James cut my hair. He was a nice, quiet, reserved sort of fellow. He captured my interest during our small talk. I was also happy with the haircut. I might have to go to Pro-Cuts more often.

I loved the sight of the full moon during my drive into Berkeley, California. I was looking for the Velo Sport Bike Shop. I had no luck finding it on Grove Street. Little did I know that the street name was recently changed to Martin Luther King Road. I was so 'fed up' from driving around in circles that I split the scene and went home.

I arrived home to the telephone ringing. It was Chris Cordellos, of course. He is still in the hospital. We talked about his day...then my day.
"I will try and visit you on Friday after work," I said.
I could almost see his smile through the invisible telephone wires.

I was surprised to receive a call from Alexis. We made a date for this coming Saturday. She agreed to come to my pad.
"I will be here," I said, "just call me between six and seven."
I figured we could redefine specific plans at that time.

Mom dropped by later to bring a VHS-videotape. She insisted it was a good TV-movie. I was too sleepy to watch it tonight though. I went straight to bed.

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The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

Our lives are defined by opportunities...even the ones we miss."
-from the film 'The Curious Case of Benjamin Buttons'

On Christmas Day 2008 I saw 'The Curious Case of Benjamin Buttons' movie. I do believe it could become the winning 'Best Picture' of 2008. The special effects of reverting the aging process was remarkable to see. The last scene with actor, Brad Pitt, really made him seem 18 years old. The shadows, his form of dress and make-up was amazing. I recommend this one if you haven't seen it. There are some worthwhile lines as it makes you think about the aging process during this "what if" story.

The short story the film was based on was written by F. Scott Fitzgerald in 1921. One has to commend Fitzgerald's imagination. If you want to read all eleven chapters of the short story, it's right here:
http://xroads.virginia.edu/~HYPER/Fitzgerald/jazz/benjamin/benjamin1.htm

While viewing the movie I managed to write down these lines that caught my ear. After you read them I think you'll agree it's worthy of viewing. Those films that are narrated (To Kill A Mockingbird-style) often win me over.

"You never know what's coming for you."

"Some days I feel different than the day before."

"Death was a common visitor."

"He's an acquaintance of an acquaintance of mine."

"I'll tell you a secret if you tell me one."

"I never forgot her blue eyes."

"No one knows whether to stay or leave."

"There's a time for everything."

"There's nothing wrong with old age."

"We're meant to lose people we love. How else would we realize how important they are to us?"

"Write me a postcard from everywhere!"

"She was not beautiful. She was as plain as paper."

"We went back to our rooms to turn separate lives."

"I'm afraid it's the witching hour."

"When it comes to the end...you have to let go."

"Did I ever tell ya I was struck by lightening seven times? God keeps reminding me I was lucky to be alive."

"How come you didn't write or nothin'?"

"I suppose anything is possible."

Here's a clip from the movie, too:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7L6K3fkwr-Y

Twenty-five years ago

January 6, 1984

What is with Suzy Miller these days? She is calling more frequently than usual. Oh well, it's fun. She is coming over tonight to watch DIVA, the French film on the VCR with me. I know she'll love it.

It was fun watching DIVA again. Suzy made quesadillas, too. I went out to buy some avocados and tried to add it as a topping. The avocados weren't perfectly ripe, so it was a challenge to say the least. It's too bad Suzy fell asleep half way through the movie. She missed out. I didn't want to interrupt her dreams, so I just went upstairs to my own bed as she slept on the sofa. I heard her come upstairs 'at God knows what time' and we exchanged 'good nights' pleasantly and deliciously. I fell asleep as she departed for her home.

While Suzy and I were eating our quesadillas I received a call from Bill Helbush. He was calling with a telephone company related question. I told him a friend was over and he made a snide remark about my 'so-called friend'.

Tammy also called me and wanted to go out because her friend, Sean, had stood her up. I pretended to be happy that she thought to call me. She understood that I didn't really feel like going out so 'last-minute'. I believe she knew that someone was with me so I felt like being honest.
"Suzy is here and we're about to watch DIVA," I told Tammy. I started to think quietly to myself about how Tammy didn't get me anything for Christmas. And then I started to mirror feeling that Juanita Lane must have had because I didn't get her anything for Christmas. It's just that I didn't find the perfect item for her YET. Maybe that is what happened with Tammy, too. Silly thoughts.

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What Matters In Life

Yesterday, I received a phone call after lunch at the Auberge du Soleil resort in Napa Valley from my cousin, Lawrence Vigil. He was sharing the sad news about his mother passing away. His mother was Julia Vigil-Casillas, my Aunt (sister to my father). Julia was a vivacious and talkative soul. In her heyday she was said to be quite the beauty. She was a widow since 1995 when her last husband, Armando Casillas passed away. She always had a chihuahua in the house. She'd fatten it up...and when one chihuahua would die she'd replace it with another. As a young boy I would love visiting her home because she would always have a large glass jar filled with colorful Chiclets gum. She always knew how to make a child smile with candy, cookies or some such goodies. I had not stopped by to see her for several years but always sent her my annual Christmas Card. This morning I was thinking of my dear Aunt Julia (born June 19, 1920 in Ledoux, Mora County, New Mexico) and remembered this poem I wrote a month or so after my mother had passed away. I figured it was a good time to read it again.

What Matters In Life

Feeling the fresh wind swoosh across my face
Walking in a brisk, non-swift pace
Hearing birds chirp and wildly flutter
Touching textures smooth, soft as butter
Reading a story of hope, laughter or joy
Watching a child riding a scooter--his toy
Sensing the smell of baked goods with coffee
Listening to leaves rustle atop the oak tree
Seeing a foreign tourist in couture style
Speaking a new accent for a short while
Waking up each morning to see the sun shine
Sharing a humorous joke to see a face line
Remembering a moment with someone gone 'bye'
Running on the beach, squinting an eye
Musing to music for words to live by
Giving a gift that makes another cry
Living for happiness at every moment in time
Wining, dining and hearing bells chime
Feeling the kiss & embrace from your love
Realizing the simple beauty of a white dove.

I had forgotten about my period of writing poems. I should write more. For a while I was writing a WORD OF THE MONTH and creating a poem from that word. If you'd like to browse at some of my poems (from way back when)...I managed to post some of them here at this poetry website:
www.poetry.com/dotnet/P2450444/Michael/Armijo/PoetProfile.aspx

Twenty-five years ago

It is starting to sink in now (in my mind) about my being an uncle in mid-May 2004. Now that I have shared the news with a few friends and co-workers. In fact it is rather exciting and thrilling.

I discussed spending New Years Eve with Helen Wong, her sister, Geneva and her boyfriend, Derek, over a dinner and dancing plan. Where to do this is still in question.

I received word today (effective January 3, 1983) that I can pay monthly parking in Downtown Oakland for $35 at the usual parking lot I use daily. Good news! Hoorah!

I went to I. MAGNIN during my lunch hour and met Linda. She is a new management hire in the sportswear department. We bumped into one another in the mezzanine hallway due to an exchange in smiles. I gave her my card and she said she'd be working there. So...who knows where that might lead?

Helen invited me for dinner tonight. I drove over to her house and I decided to get my hair cut. We ate salad, chicken, macaroni and vanilla cream pie. It was a delicious homemade meal. We lounged a bit. It seems I tend to do a lot of lounging these days. I exercise too, so I believe it evens out in the long run. Helen and I decided on HORATIO'S in Berkeley, CA as the New Years Eve location. And then we may hit the Hilton for drinks and dancing. It should be fun.

I arrived home around 10:30pm. My brother, John, and his friend, Geoffrey Rookard, were watching my favorite "bike" movie, BREAKING AWAY.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=f8diYzvCMVQ
I definitely need to get my bicycle 'flat tire' repaired!

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Remembering Those M&M Cookies

“Mike,
Don’t change.
Stay as you are…
Happy all the time
…And a good boy.
Hope you continue your education
And hope you like going to college
And hope you get ahead in the future because you deserve it.
PS-And Thank you for Sunday for taking me out for dinner
At the ‘Mexicali Rose’.
Love Your Mom,
Virginia.”
---handwritten June, 1977 in my Alameda High School year book

The holiday season is difficult sometimes when you think about loved ones you’ve lost. On January 24, 2000 I was talking to my mother on the telephone at 8 o’clock in the evening. I was in Los Angeles and she was in Alameda. We had our typical chitchat.
“So, what’s new,” I would typically ask.
“Oh nothing…there’s a good movie on TV tonight that I want to see called THE COURAGE TO LOVE, starring Vanessa Williams,” she said.
“Oh really? Maybe you can tape it for me and then I can watch it,” I suggested.
She said she’d tape it as she often did with stories/movies she wished to share with me. It's a blur to recall any additional conversation. We probably talked about the holidays and the grandkids, Ashley, Holly, Ally, Dylan, Lauren and Leigh.
“Okay, good night, I LOVE YOU,” I said, not realizing they would be my last words to her. At around 11:35pm that night, my sister-in-law, Sherri Armijo, called in hysterics, crying every which way.
“She’s gone, Michael,” she said.
As I write these words it hurts once again. There was a delirium in the air and I hoped it was all a dream. Sherri was telling me that my mother had passed away. My mother had managed to call 911 but her doors were locked and the firemen paramedics had to break down a garage side door to enter her home. She passed away at Alameda Hospital from complications of a 'mitral regurgitation' condition. I can never use the ‘dead’ word. I always say “passed away”. Why is that? It eases my pain.

I just did a search online at the Internet Movie Data Base under Vanessa Williams’ filmography. I found her film THE COURAGE TO LOVE and it strikes me now to see the actual RELEASE date of January 24, 2000:
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0217749/
I never saw the last movie that my mother watched. This is the plot summary:

In 19th century New Orleans a new class of colored people has arisen. They are creoles, a result of relations between African-Americans and wealthy European people. Children are born, there is love, but marriage is out of the question. Colored people are still not considered equal. Henriette Delille is a very religious Creole. The time she has she spends on educating, care and helping out in church. On the day her father Jean-Baptiste leaves her mother Pouponne to marry a white woman, Henriette is supposed to meet her arranged future 'caretaker' Paul Cartier. But she refuses him, defying every tradition and so bringing her mother to madness. She becomes friends with the French doctor Gerard Gaultier. He is in love with her and wants her to move to France, so they can be legally married. Henriette is torn apart by her feelings for Gerard and her devotion to the church. She must choose, but neither choice is going to be an easy one as there are people who greatly disapprove of Henriette's ideas of breaking traditions.

I just checked and I cannot believe it is available for sale on Amazon.com.
http://www.amazon.com/Courage-to-Love/dp/B000LC57K0/ref=pd_bbs_sr_2?ie=UTF8&s=dvd&qid=1229623351&sr=8-2
I just NOW bought it as a Christmas gift to myself. I still have my silent moments of sadness when I have memories or dreams of my mom---like this morning---and I usually keep them to myself. Maybe the movie, COURAGE TO LOVE, will grant me a line or two of rescue this season.

I had been like a wild bird in a cage, given just enough bird seed by its captor to keep alive but not to thrive; doomed as time passed to lose the use of its wings so that if ever released it would be unable to fly. Now, at any rate, I had got out of the cage. I must soar anew through the boundless sky before it was too late, I had forgotten how to flap my wings.
–Lu Xun, Regret for The Past

Another holiday season is here and once again I miss the aroma and taste of Mom’s homemade M&M cookies.

2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup vegetable shortening
1 cup firmly packed light brown sugar
1/2 cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs
2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups M&M plain or peanut candies
1. Preheat oven to 375*F (190*C).
2. In medium bowl combine flour, soda and salt, mixing well; set aside.
3. In a large mixing bowl, cream shortening and sugars together with electric mixer; add eggs and vanilla and beat at medium speed until light and fluffy. Stir in flour mixture and candies until just combined. Do not over-mix.
4. Drop by rounded tablespoonfuls onto ungreased baking sheets, about 2-inches apart.
5. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes or until edges just begin to turn golden brown. Do not over-bake! Transfer cookies to a wire rack to cool.
Makes about 3 dozen cookies.

Twenty-five years ago today:

December 18, 1983

I went shopping with mom to the South Shore Shopping Center in Alameda today. We had such a good time.
We returned to my pad on Solomon Lane and wrapped Christmas presents together. It was festive fun as we listened to Christmas chipmunk tunes together.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3rN-7wGz_3w
I am so relieved that I had an exhilarating bike ride today, too.

I called Bill and we spoke about the possibility of getting together on Thursday.

After a quick shower I began to watch an old James Bond feature called GOLDFINGER when Michael Miller called me. We arranged a holiday outing to see the new Al Pacino film called SCARFACE. It sounds good to me.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_7leX_BBcOA
SCARFACE was violent but so very well done. It was a three-hour flick that kept me interested all the way through.
http://es.youtube.com/watch?v=ciF2CYn36gA
I enjoyed the escape but it is now 1:30am and time for bed.

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