Author: Judi Curry

About 5 months ago, I received a letter from the San Diego Water District telling me that a complaint had…

The Board of Supervisors for Los Angeles County has just made the decision that companies that use one-time plastic bags can not longer use them in the unincorporated areas of Los Angeles County. Their ruling excludes those cities that have their own city council.

Yesterday the Tampa Tribune had an article in their paper that stated that they had tested more than a dozen reusable bags and found lead in some of them, including Target and Wal-Mart bags. They quickly stated that those two had among the lowest level of lead in them. Swell!

Have things really changed THAT much since I was in school?

Judging from the experience my daughter – and more specifically – my 11 year old grandson just had – I would have to say that changes have taken place but not necessarily for the better.

Today’s papers are filled with news accounts of “bullying”. There have been many deaths caused by bullying. In some instances parents have goaded their children to “bully” another student and seem to think it is funny. There was the young lady that thought she had a boyfriend because he told her nice things about herself.

So….Buddy and I are walking south on Sunset Cliffs on the east side of the road when we are met by three dogs and their owner, unleashed, that looked as close to being wolves as coyotes look like large dogs.

Wait a minute. That’s unfair. Only two of the dogs looked like wolves. The third dog, a teeny weenie one was on a leash. It was the other two that were not.

I hate the idea of getting old. I hate “remembering” the way things “used to be” and comparing them with the way things are now.

For example: I remember when education used to be free. The public schools provided books, pencils, papers, crayons, glue, scissors, etc. so that we could learn without the stress of the teacher saying “we can do this if you bring in some paper and pens.”

I remember when school used to be safe for the students, the staff and anyone entering the premises.

Many years ago – twenty-two to be exact – my husband Bob wanted to climb Mt. Whitney for his 60th birthday. At first I was not going to go with him, but as he became more excited about reaching his goal, I decided to train with him.

One of his favorite areas to walk was along Ft. Rosecrans cemetery. The view was spectacular from both sides of the road; it was quiet, and on warm days nothing was as soothing as sitting down under the beautiful trees to cool off, relax, and enjoy the multitude of birds flying overhead. In fact, it was during one of these “training days” that he said that when he died he would like to be buried in this beautiful spot.

Now, 22 years after we climbed Mt. Whitney, he is at Ft. Rosecrans, but it is no longer the beautiful spot it was back then. Sure, things change, people change, but cemeteries usually remain pretty much the same.

It is getting dark and the cars are beginning to drive up the street, stop, unload their passengers and move away. I presume the drivers are going up the street to wait for their children.

The doorbell rings: I go to open the door. A cute boy, about 11 or so says, “triqui triqui.” (Obviously, he has said, “trick or treat.”)

– Estoy aquí para buscar ricos dulces. Nosotros no tenemos estos dulces donde vivo. (I am here to get some of your candy because it is so good. We don’t have the same candy where I live.)

SCENARIO: Dinner table – dessert being eaten

Participants – Tomo, Japanese student

Lorena, Taiwan student

Corinne, Swiss student

Walking into the living room – Judi, Host Mother

Judi: Girls, girls, come here quick!

When was the last time I had a good night sleep?

I have no trouble falling asleep; my problem is in staying asleep.

Maybe, if I am lucky, I can go two hours without waking, but that is usually not the case. No…I am looking for the elusive “all nighter.” You know, the full night sleep without the blasted helicopters waking me up as they search the seas for drug runners, or illegals.

I mean a full night sleep without someone’s security alarm beeping when they go out to their car to retrieve something at 2:00am. I don’t understand why the bartender neighbor down the street MUST have his stereo blaring when he comes home from work night – no morning – after morning.

Who is this man who knows all about you but you know nothing about him?

Let me give you a hint: He is a native San Diegan. Born and raised in San Ysidro thirty-five years ago. (Need more clues?)

Received an AA degree from Southwestern College in Administrative Justice in 1999. Has an AS degree in the Science of Criminal Justice.

I am very lucky. As a child growing up in the Beverly Hills/West Hollywood area of Los Angeles, there was not much that I wanted that I didn’t get. Sure, I was just a child during WWII, but my parents were well off and I always got one piece of bubble gum a week – I had to put it in a glass of water to save for the next day. (I wonder if that was the precursor to putting my dentures in a glass of water when I got older.)

I own a 9 year old Golden Retriever named “Buddy.” (Of course, it is questionable about who owns whom.) I think it is time to enlighten non-dog owners – and even dog owners – about the intelligence of our canine friends. (Since I am not a man – I get upset when I hear about “man’s best friend”, because if it were not for Buddy, I probably would not be here today writing this piece.)