db: California dreams

I dreamed of California, before I even knew there was one.

“All the leaves are brown…”

Dateline: California

“When I came to California it was the mecca of the world, every young person on the planet wanted to be here.”
Joni Mitchell

I dreamed of California, before I even knew there was one.

I dreamed of sand, not snow.

I dreamed of palm trees, not barren limbs.

I dreamed of surf, not ice.

I love my hometown of Buffalo, N.Y., but as a child I dreamed, dreamed of, what if…

What if the sun always shined, what if the sky was always blue, what if flowers never wilted…

What if, I could touch the sunset.

Set the stage.

“…and the sky is gray…”

There is a huge picture window framed in snow, frost drawn patterns decorate each corner, the glass is cold to touch, if you blew on the window you could write your name.

Behind the window, under a blanket on the couch a 10 year old boy is thumbing through LIFE magazine, through LOOK magazine, thumbing through a world not seen outside the window panes that frame his life.

That young boy, was me.

As a child I never looked to comic books for adventure, I wanted the real stuff, at 12 years of age the TIME magazine that came to our house had MY name on the label.

Two paper routes covered the bill.

As the grandson of immigrants, second gen American, I knew from an early age that there was a lot of “there” out there past my window. Knew of Italy, knew of Canada, knew of Ireland, knew of Sicily…

…had no idea what was at the end of the NYS Thruway.

I was world smart, America dumb.

Then came a skinny old guy with a pencil thin mustache holding the hand of a giant mouse.

Walt Disney.

Mickey Mouse.

Yep, I learned of California, like millions of other children in America through a mouse, a duck and a skinny old guy.

Set the stage.

“…I’ve been for a walk…”

Then came the ‘60’s.

I entered the decade as an innocent child, not how I left it though. I lived through one summer of love, many summers of hate.

Buffalo was rioting, Mississippi was burning, Vietnam was killing my best friends.

And yet, through it, during it, there was a skinny old man holding the paw of mouse who wore red shorts and white gloves.

And yet there was a land where you could spin in teacups or ride flying elephants through the air.

And yet the older brother of my friend down the street died on the Ho Chi Min trail in 1967, and yet my other friend’s older sister stood on the corner of Haight & Ashbury with peace signs painted on her cheeks in 1967.

And yet, I was only 15.

And this was my upside down world.

Set the stage.

“…on a winter’s day…”

Right or wrong, in my 15-year-old soul, California gave me peace.

I don’t know when it was really discovered but most of America east of Oklahoma found California in the 1950’s and 1960’s.

Beach Boys, Annette, Jan & Dean, and some little old lady in wherever Pasadena was, brought California to me.

On my 12th Christmas my parents asked me what it was I wanted under the Christmas tree, I said a “surfboard,” they put a wooden sled under there instead.

I “surfed” our icy driveway all that winter standing ON TOP of that sled.

At 13, I asked “Gidget,” to marry me, sent her a handwritten proposal, my father called me, “you old dog,” I had no idea what he was talking about, I told  “Gidget” in my marriage letter that I wanted to marry her because I was in love with the beauty…of the beach.

I wrote the skinny old guy with the pencil thin mustache as well, told him if the rodent didn’t work out, I’d be happy to help him out around the park.

Neither ever wrote me back.

Set the stage.

“…I’d be safe and warm…”

In September of 1981, at age 29, I finally set foot in the state of my dreams. 

I was hired at KFSN-TV in Fresno to be a Feature Reporter, do the funny, interesting minute-thirty news pieces called in the biz, “kickers,” found at the end of newscasts back then.

I was a dream come true.

My job was to travel all up and down the Central Valley, all over California looking for the funny, the interesting, the cool, the people and places stories of this state.

In a short time I knew this state better than most people who were born here.

And I fell in love with it. Fell in love with the coast, the valley, the foothills, the forests, but mostly, fell in love with the people of this place.

Fell in love with their creativity, their wackiness, their spirit.

Cinco de Mayo meant nothing to me, until my first May in the San Joaquin Valley and then my cameraman, Oscar Deleon, my Anchorman friend, Rich Rodriquez, Eva, the station’s receptionist brought me into their lives, brought me into their families, showed me real life, not stereotypes and that first 5th of May changed the way I worked as a journalist for every May, everyday that came after 5/5/1981.

The greatest beauty I found in California was the diversity of its land, its ideas, and its peoples.

Set the stage.

“…if I was in L.A….”

I came back to California and this event a few days early and headed south to Fresno to meet up with several of my old colleagues there from back in our days together at KFSN-TV, ABC-30.

I came back there, my first time back in the San Joaquin in 30 years, I came back to say, simply…Thank You.

Thank you for the kindness you showed a rookie reporter who dreamed of this far-away land since he was a child.

And I think in a divinely driven twist of fate, my friend Rich, now a 30 year long highly respected anchor in town, Rich put me back on the Fresno airwaves once again, this time on his morning radio show, and it gave me the chance to thank all the people in Fresno, all the people in the Central Valley, got to say thank you for opening your hearts, your souls, your homes, your state to a young man from Buffalo, N.Y.,…please know I took your spirit with me whatever land I next reported from.

And for these people, the people you see here in these two photos, Rich, Oscar, Bob Tyrcha, Nancy Osborne and Liz Allen a special thank you for letting, for showing a dreamer, it is okay to dream, wherever it is that you may be.

Set the stage.

“…California dreamin’…”

I remember the first time I saw the sky blacked out by the giant Sequoia trees.

I remember the first time I saw a seal break open an oyster while floating in Morro Bay.

I remember the first time I saw Yosemite Valley, saw a grape turn into a raisin, saw the Clovis Rodeo, saw a space shuttle landing overhead, covered an earthquake, floods and drought…

…and it was all here in California.

California is where a doctor handed me my first child.

California is where a bank handed me my first mortgage.

California is where I was handed the keys to Journalism.

And yeah, California has a lot of problems now, as do many, many other states, but this Sunday, California will make a dream come true for one Elite angler, a dream come true that could change that angler’s life.

I have been California dreamin’ since I was a child.

I know dreams come true here.

California, hold tight to dreams.

Hold tight.

Hold tight because somewhere a young child is watching.

Somewhere, on a frosty window a tiny finger will write, “California here I come.”

Keep the dream alive…

…for dreamers who…

…write on frost…

…and who one day…

…here will come.

Set the Stage.

 “…on such a winter’s day.”
California Dreamin’
The Mamas & The Papas

db

“I always wanted to be a Californian. In my wildest dreams I always liked California, it’s the place where oranges grow on trees and fruit just falls off trees.”
Eric Burdon