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The man dons his mask and inserts his snorkel into his mouth. He is clad from head to foot in a red and black wet suit with matching fins. The integrated BC and tank are of the finest quality, and the dive computer on his wrist is of the highest tech. He joins hands with his dive buddy and they back into the gentle waves of the cove. Descending to the bottom of the cove they play with the lobsters and the golden Garibaldi.
They chase schools of tiny minnows and thread their way through the towering kelp. A leopard shark swims beneath them and an eel comes out of its hole to examine them. As they rise back to the surface they encounter several seals that play about them for a short time. Then they return to the beach. In the morning, the blonde babe who was his dive buddy watches him depart while she finishes her coffee on the patio of the stylish coffee shop in La Jolla. A sparkling time was had by all. ------------------------ This is Dashing Dick Dharma on my way to San Diego in search of the elusive Cool Dude. My somewhat knowledgeable informant tells me that Cool Dude is headed there probably to do some diving. Using my intuition I decide to head for La Jolla, which is one of his known haunts.
My progress is slowed by heavy traffic in the LA area, but south of Orange County I am able to zip along at a nice pace. Then, just south of the San Juan Capistrano, the thump, thump, thumping noise from the front end of my car spells disaster. Pulling off the road I find that my right front tire has gone flat. What timing! I quickly unload the suitcase and other items from my trunk and pull out the dinky spare, the jack and the wrench. Using the last rays of the setting sun I change the tire and then start south again driving my red Porsche at a more sedate 45 miles an hour as required by the spare. There must be a lesson in all of this I tell myself as I crawl southward. The kids in the back of a motor home wave at me as they sail past. Truckers pull up right behind me until all I can see in my mirror is their radiator grill before they too slip around me. A Mustang driven by a beautiful red head pulls alongside me inviting me to race, but then she too speeds away waving goodbye. Maybe I should get a tricycle. It is completely dark in La Jolla when I finally arrive. The beach appears dark and empty so I decide that the best idea will be to check into a motel to lick my wounds. Who knows what might turn up in the morning? After sleep, a shower and a very satisfying meditation, I check out of the motel and drop off my car at a gas station. Strolling through downtown La Jolla I decide to get some breakfast while they patch my tire. You never know what the morning will bring. Perhaps Cool Dude will turn up here. The sidewalk is not very crowded. Mostly morning commuters getting a cup of coffee and a paper. But then, down the block, a figure coming out of a coffee shop catches my attention. He is tall and dressed impeccably. He turns his head slightly in my direction. The sunglasses! And there, in the parking lot is his Benz. It chirps and blinks its lights at him in greeting and a moment later he is sliding behind the wheel. Is it appropriate to run at a moment like this I wonder? Deciding yes I jog across the street while he pulls out of the space. He heads for the far end of the parking lot and I run after him. But it's no use. He gives me a quick glance that stops me dead in my tracks and then he pulls out into the street heading away from me. I watch him until he is out of sight. Then I notice that a blonde babe sitting at a table on the patio of the coffee shop is watching me. Embarrassment seizes me as I realize that I have lost my cool. My hair is a mess and my shirttail is flapping in the breeze. I quickly tuck my shirt in and as inconspicuously as possible check to make sure that my fly is zipped up. Then I glance back at the blonde to see if she is still looking. She is leaning back in her chair and smiling at me in a knowing way. "You are about two minutes too late." She says. "Pardon?" I respond trying to look innocent. She is dressed in an impeccable business suit. She laughs and motions in the direction of the recently departed Benz. "He seems to have left at just the right time did he not?" "Oh," I reply hoping that my hair does not resemble Einstein's. "Do you know him?" I ask while trying to smooth my hair back into place. "No, I just happened to notice HIM leave and then you came charging up looking like a silly fool trying to catch him." That doesn't sound quite accurate to me. I study the scene briefly. There are two used settings at the table. One for her and one for my departed friend of course. She is rising to go. "Well, perhaps you would like to have company for a few minutes?" I ask hoping to buy some time. "Excuse me," is her only response as she steps past me. She walks away, her stiletto heels clicking sharply against the sidewalk. I pause, trying to decide which side of her I liked better and then with a smile turn to the restaurant. After a brief wait, the hostess seats me at the table that she had just vacated in the chair that Cool Dude must have been sitting in. For a moment I sit quietly trying to decide if there is anything special about the seat. It feels like, well, a wooden chair. It would seem that Cool Dude took his coolness with him. "Coffee?" The waitress asks while she collects the tip from under a clay container of assorted jellies. "Yes," I respond. "Nice day out here." "Yes, a very nice day." she beams at me. "Cream?" "Yes, please. You sound very happy." Slightly suspicious I prompt her to continue. "Yes," she says placing several hermetically sealed containers of reconstituted non-dairy creamer on the tabletop. Cream has clearly taken on a new meaning these days. "That couple who were just here really made my day. They were so nice and thoughtful." She pauses for a moment and then continues. "I really hope that he has a nice trip." "Oh? Trip?" My eyes widen in suprise. "Yes, I suppose that I shouldn't say anything, but I overheard him saying that he is flying to San Francisco today." "Oh, yes." Once again I smile at my good fortune. "Well, I'm sure he will have a fine trip." I continue, looking down at the menu and trying to disguise how delighted I am to know where he is headed. "He looked like the type of fellow who travels first class." She smiles at that. "Yes, I'm sure he will. Are you ready to order?" Thinking quickly, I respond. "Well since HE was having such a good day, I'll have whatever he had. Maybe it will rub off on me." "Eggs Benedict and prune juice it is then," she replies making a note on her pad. My smile fades slightly. "Prune juice?" I query, raising one eyebrow. Perhaps I have found a chink in the perfection. Her smile broadens and she laughs lightly. "Just kidding, he really had grapefruit juice. Would you like that?" "Yes," I respond. "That will do nicely." With a final notation on her pad she turns and heads back to the kitchen. I pick up one of the containers of creamer and notice that it is cold. Adding it to my coffee I wonder why they chill something that probably has a shelf life of 10 years. I sit back in the chair to enjoy the coffee. The sea breeze rustles the trees and the California sunshine warms me. I realize that life is beautiful. Cool Dude picked a nice place. Later, after collecting my car and hopping back onto the freeway going north I speed-dial my travel agent on my cell phone. Looks like I'll be flying to San Francisco today.
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