A Day of Firsts

I’m disappointed with today’s entry. While I did some interesting things and met a few intriguing people yesterday, the increased police and military presence, plus visible ICE vehicles, cast a negative vibe. I found it unsettling and out of character for the area.

I visited the least tern nesting grounds at the south end of Huntington Beach. To respect the birds’ need for peace and quiet, I stood at a distance and used field glasses and a spotting scope. I couldn’t count the birds exactly, but I’d describe their numbers as a multitude, likely in the thousands. Unfortunately, I didn’t take any photos because I forgot a crucial piece of gear. Instead, I simply enjoyed a long, peaceful observation session.

I had coffee with a woman who’s spending the summer with her two daughters and nephew in a small mobile home, traveling the coast to surf and camp. She plans to head as far south as the border and as far north as Oregon. They seemed like a happy bunch.

I also met the owner of Bonzi Surf School in Huntington Beach. Jaz is a retired comedian and a genuinely nice guy. We chatted for a few minutes while I checked in on my grandson, who’s learning to surf there this week. Apparently, Jaz traveled extensively and, like me, has no desire to set foot on a plane again, unless it’s heading to Hawaii.

My grandson managed to stand up on his first day. He said he stood up, but also fell down quite a bit. I’m just happy he got to experience the joy of riding a wave. It really is, or in my case, was, magical.

I spoke to a man who fishes near the river jetty every day. He was carrying a large corvina back to his camper van to cook for breakfast. He offered to share. Most people down here are super nice, except for a few of the homeless folks, who tend to be aggressively rude.

Later in the day, I saw a flight of military helicopters heading toward Los Angeles. I’m used to seeing one or two occasionally, as we have several bases nearby, but this sighting was out of the ordinary and took me back to the days after 9/11, when the sky was full of them.

The number of police and Orange County sheriffs on the streets was astounding. I was followed for a mile or two by a unit that eventually pulled a car over ahead of me. I suppose an old dude chauffeuring a teen didn’t fit the profile of a potential protester, because there was no apparent reason to pull the car ahead of me over, except that the owner was brown. Drivers were honking and flipping the sheriff off. It warmed my heart.

The more I meet and talk to people, the easier it’s becoming for me to relax and enjoy myself. I think retirement, coupled with a huge reduction in stress and more quality time with my family, is bringing out a much better version of me. I told my wife that I’m just happy all the time, and it’s weird because I’m not used to it. Who knew happiness could be so much fun?