BOW Life Goes On #7
San Diego, California
February 28, 1974
12:49 p.m. Pacific Standard Time
Over the loud speaker: “Ladies and gentlemen...” the co-pilot announced. “...we’ll be making our final approach to ‘Lindbergh Field’ within the next few minutes so kindly observe the ‘no smoking and fasten your seat belt’ sign. The temperature in San Diego stands at a balmy seventy-four degrees with intermittent cloudiness.
“As a reminder, remember to set your watches back two hours as Pacific Standard Time is now twelve-forty-nine. On behalf of the Captain and crew, we wish you an enjoyable stay in San Diego and thank you for flying ‘United’.”
Pulling the stem and running his watch two hours in reverse, “Did he say ‘seventy-four degrees’?”
“Yeah! Shhh,” her eyes closed again, “I don’t want to talk now.”
“Okay, baby, but I was wondering about the girls.”
“Opening her left eye, looking at Mitchell. “What about the girls?” Also seeing out the port…
Breaking out of the high altitude grayness...
Marsha’s nails digging into her husband’s thigh.“Oh, my God!”
Attempting to keep her mind and his mind off of speeding earth bound. “Aren’t the girls interested in watching us?”
“No! Yes!!” Both eyes shut. Nails digging. “Mitchell, shut up while I panic!”
...Coming out of the clouds, descending…
‘And purple mountains majesty, above the fruited plains’.
Always thinking the words from the song, ‘America the Beautiful’ meant the mountains of America at twilight.
But…
Living all of their lives in comparatively flat areas, other than movies, Marsha and Mitchell having never actually seen true mountainous terrain…
“Oh, my God, Marcie!” Looking through the window, “This is ‘incredible!’!”
“What?”
“Marcie, come on, you’ve ‘got’ o see this!”
“Really? I’ve really ‘got’ to!”
“Yeah! Come on, take a look!”
Leaning across her husband, opening her eyes.
The plane banking...
For as far as the eye could see, hills and mountainsides were…”
“Oh my, God, Mitchie.”
December of 1977 and the first two months of 1978 being particularly rainy months for Southern California, inestimable millions of ice plants were in full bloom giving new meaning to...
‘And purple mountains majesty…’
‘Lavender’! The hills and lower mountains were bathed in lavender.
Leveling off now. ..
In the distance rows of houses could b e seen, many with the blue dots of swimming pools...
Approaching the narrow ribbon of concrete the lavender bathed hills and mountains gave way to a profusion of colors as the flowers and flowering plants lining the streets running adjacent ‘Lindbergh Field’ hit the eyes of the winter weary passengers appearing as an eruption of glowing floral color.
Feeling as though stopping in mid-air, her nails digging in deeper, Marsha’s suddenly wet hand painfully clasped Mitchell’s forearm now as – feeling as though stopping in mid-air, the under-flaps dropped slowing the aircraft as the plane cruised… Lower… lower…
Closer to the ground now.
Now realizing just how fast they were moving…
Faster… Faster… Faster… faster.
Faster until, ten yards, five yards, a yard… feet…
The wheels feet off the ground the patched cracks in the runway and the grass alongside the concrete strip no longer a blur. Bumping once, and again, a blast of reverse air slowing the rushing plane…
Slower… slower… slowing…
“Ladies and Gentleman, this is ‘Captain James Avery’ speaking. On behalf of United Airlines, the crew and myself, I wish to thank you for flying ‘Untied’ and look forward to serving you again. “
A feminine voice now, the stewardess standing forward: “Please do not forget any of your property stored in the overhead compartments.”
Outside, the forward hatch opening, a rolling staircase pushed to and fastened onto the plane.
“Please,” the stewardess said, “disembark from the forward hatch.”
The aisle jammed with people retrieving their overhead
stowed belongings,.
“Mitchie...” Marsha asked “...the real-estate guy, how’ll we know him… or her?”
Taking Marsha’s coat and purse from the overhead locker. “Alice said he’ll have a sign.” Handing his wife her purse and coat, Mitchell wrestled the green imitation lizard case from the compartment then his coat.
Shuffling forward... Finally reaching the hatch, “Thank you,” he said to the stewardess as — heavy winter coats slung over their arms, hand in hand Marsha and Mitchell Lipensky stepped from the plane onto the staircase platform into the…
“Oh, my God!”
Chicago, Illinois
February 28, 1974
8:45 a.m. Central Standard Time
Breath coming in thick plumes of vapor, walking as quickly as possible from the O’Hare Air-Field parking lot. Their jackets, zipped and buttoned from hem to throat, willowed in the howling wind.
Thank God! Pushing through the revolving door from the outside world of bone chilling, face numbing, squalling wind to the comparatively quiet warmth of the United Airlines Terminal.
San Diego, California
February 28, 1974
12:58 p.m. Pacific Standard Time
Marsha and Mitchell Lipensky stepped from the plane onto the staircase platform into the…
”Oh, my God!”
In Chicago a minus ten degree wind chill factor.
In San Diego, temperature standing at a balmy seventy-four degrees.
“Oh, my God!”
Lavender covered mountains in the background. Towering palm trees, flower covered grounds and the Jasmine scented balmy breeze that, in its totality, seemed too beautiful to be real instantly reminding Mitchell of the Disney movie, ‘Song of The South’, and all that was needed was Uncle Remus singing, ‘Zip-itedy-do-da, Zip-itedy-aye, my-oh-my what a wonderful day’!
Stepping from the plane into the jasmine scented air of San Diego — in its totality, the beauty of what Marsha and Mitchell felt and what Marsha and Mitchell saw seemed as illusory as a Disney animation cell.
Possibly the beauty of what they saw and what they felt intensified due to the frigid and winter filthy conditions of where and what they’d come from, however…
“Mitchie...” walking down the staircase “...it’s ‘so’ warm and ‘so’ beautiful! Prettier than I ever imagined. Are we ‘really’ going to live here?”
Breathing deeply of the sweet scented air. “My, God, baby! Five hours ago we were freezing our asses off, and now… I can’t believe it either. Now we’re in ‘Zip-itedy-do-da land’.”
Hands still clasped, continuing down the staircase into, ’United Arrivals’ the first person they spotted was a summer weight, well-dressed middle-aged man holding a handmade sign that read…
‘Welcome to San Diego
Mitchell & Marsha!!’
“Guess that’s our guy.”
“Yeah…” feeling slightly embarrassed, Marsha said“... I guess.”
Walking towards the some-what good looking man. “Hi, I’m Mitch Lipensky... shaking hands, “...and this is my wife, Marsha.”
“Marsha,” nodding his head, “Mitchell… Pleased to meet you. I’m Lennie Goodman of ‘Forrest Olson Real Estate’. And again, Welcome to San Diego.”
“Glad to know you, Mister Goodman…
“We’re not all that formal here in Southern California, the name’s ‘Lennie’, please.”
“Yes, us, too. Uh, Marcie and me, we’re not so formal either.”
“Good! You two hungry?”
“They served some cereal and sweet rolls at about ten, so, yeah...” Marsha said, “...we could eat.”
“You like seafood?”
“Fish, ‘no’! At least not for me. Seafood, yes. I love shrimp!”
“Seafood is fine with me. But we’ve got to get our bags first.”
“Of course, Mitch, come on!”
Following Goodman through the comparatively small air port to the baggage carousel. Waiting without speaking, within a few minutes the bags for the entire flight came rolling through.
Despite Mitchell’s objections, ‘Lennie’ carried the larger of the three bags to the parking area where, Mitchell in front and Marsha in the back seat, in a newer model four door, two tone – white and powder blue ‘Buick Road Master’.
They drove from the Lindbergh field parking lot to Laurel Street where the Buick turned right and right again on North Harbor Drive.
“Okay then…” Goodman said “... I’ve a beautiful place for seafood, and the food’s pretty good, too.”
Wisely not speaking business... yet.
Having checked the temperature: coming from bitterly cold Chicago, giving the Lipensky’s time to adapt to balmy Southern California.
Going a bit out of the way. Driving leisurely Goodman followed the coast towards the city of San Diego.
The Pacific Ocean in open view…
Wind blowing her hair, staring out the open window with her hand atop her husband’s shoulder…
“Mitchie, it’s so beautiful here! I still can’t believe it.”
Knowing they were ‘hooked’ on San Diego, as he drove Lennie Goodman’s thoughts went to the progression of the ‘shit’ houses he would be showing Marsha and Mitchell, then the two higher priced properties that — having studied the Lipensky’s information packet, considering their known financial perimeters, he would ‘have’ to sell.
Next BOW Life Goes On #8
