Jim Brown:  

My older sibling, David, died last September. (Santa Clara High School Memorial web site, David Brown) My younger one, Rick, survived a heart attack. It’s time to update my profile. In our elder years, I and my siblings annually took a week to travel less beaten paths together. It started with trip to Cuba in 1998 and thereafter to obscure locations like where the last California Grizzle bear was killed, (Horse Camp Meadows). During trips we reminisced, bragged, and lied about our times past. In 2009, near Ukiah, visiting Ishi’s old stomping grounds, the stock market collapsed foretelling an economic depression. In response, David proclaimed, at least most of his life span, covered the best era to live. I, 13 years later, now a white hair silhouette among the throng, an inconspicuous passerby, irrelevant to the young, wonder if my life span covered the best time to live. By the fireplace's warmth and whisky’s glow, I reminisce and re-write my life story with aged insight. There, in my recollection midden, I live my life anew. Candid age’s introspection unveils the me, I never knew. Life's twists and turns have taught, some things I knew, were things untrue. Late at night, awake before sleep, the past drifts randomly before me. With the scrutiny of age’s honest reflection, my life’s story requires revision from the myth I thought was true. Things I did percolate up to interrupt sleep. I didn’t break all the 10 Commandments drilled into me at Saint Clare’s grade school but broke most. There were times I was selfish, hypocritical, manipulative, vindictive, even mean. While admitting guilt, I prevaricate. I wasn’t evil, just human. Instead, I dwell on the positive wonders of modern marvels and elderly enjoyments. No longer hurried, I enjoy dilatory breakfast with black coffee, read books, watch old movies, and reconnect with former friends, once too busy to do. There’s no need to rush. I’ll hear the Banshee’s wail soon enough. I couldn't imagine now back then. Microwave ovens, personal computers, cell phones, the internet, and social media were not predicted. Instead, flying cars, house-cleaning robots, and trips to Mars were expected. Polaroid, Fax, Beta, VHS, floppy disks, one-hour photos, transistor radios, and the sexual revolution came and went, without a hint of prediction on their coming or going. It was a different world, though not so long ago, now difficult to comprehend. I also have a special pleasure. I wallow among the patina of my memories. Of course, they’re not all good. I was mostly deaf, got shot, experienced poverty, lost lots of money, had one house slide, another burn to the ground, got sued twice for millions, and almost burned to death. In my twisted mind, however, these things placated the Middle Finger God, one who dishes out bad luck if you get too much good. I got a lot of good luck. The luck was consistently being in the right place,at the right time. Growing up in Santa Clara County and attending its schools in the 1950s and 60s was great luck. Getting married in 1970 resulted in continuing marriage for over 51 years, 2 hardworking, wealthy sons and 4 grandchildren much better than I ever was. In Oregon I made a lot of money, traveled the world, had my own business, and have cherry orchard to keep my retirement years busy. Yeah, there were some close calls, flirts with death and danger due to unwise actions but they all turned out okay, or as my oldest son repeats, “Dad, you’re proof it’s better to be lucky than smart.” My response is, “Thank the Thumbs Up God.” I’m still having a good ride in life and hope you also are having good elderly year ides. In the earlier profile I harped on old Santa Clara and change. Things I never thought would happen include smog being cleared, end of smoking, collapse of the Soviet Union, cell phones/internet, everyone wearing face masks, and the little old house I grew up in to be worth over a million dollars. Old Profile Crap, I'm old now. Never figured it would happen but then it so quickly did. At least I've had a good ride in life, for the most part. I hope you all have too. They say only 2 things are unavoidable, death and taxes. I add another, change. You've all seen it in Santa Clara. Like most old, I yearn for what was, now gone. In first grade Santa Clara's population was about 8,000. I almost flunked 2nd grade at Saint Clare's but struggled on and was unexpectedly accepted to Bellarmine High School, Sister Mary Emanuel the most surprised. I didn't like Bellarmine and at the end of the freshman year left to go to Santa Clara High in the fall of 1959 as a sophomore. What a change, I loved it. I lived in the Mission Track at 1943 Murguia Avenue, the first mass subdivision in Santa Clara. The homes sold originally for $10:000 to $12,000. Built in 1947 the 2 or 3 bedroom houses were between the end of Lexington Street. and the start of Saratoga Road. Lexington Street turned into Homestead Road at Mission Tract's Gould Lane, where Sunnyway Market was the last outpost of commercial development then, Homestead Road like Saratoga Road were narrow, 2 asphalt lanes shrouded with fruit trees as they led over arroyo creeks and on to the distant hills. Gould Lane became Scott Boulevard, as subdivision after subdivision was added, Hamon Grade School was built, then Wilson Intermediate and then Buscher High School. Eventually the huge Kaiser Hospital. and Central Park with its Aquatics center were added among the never ending housing tracts and strip commercial developments which uprooted the orchards. Poor old Santa Clara High, a beautiful building, loved by its students, was torn down because of earthquake danger but probably for some ones' profit. It took a big Caterpillar Tractor on the second floor to push down the walls. Even more idiotic, they bulldozed our little downtown. I loved the Santa Clara Theater and adjoining magazine smoke shop with its glossy "detective" magazines. Durgan‘s bar, the dime stores, Wades drug store the Italian delicatessen and the original Wilson’s, I miss them all. You know the rest, on it went until Sunnyvale met Santa Clara and Cupertino sprung out of a corner bakery off Homestead Road. Check my gallery for a Santa Clara photo before the Mission tract was built. Like change, however, there is always at least one constant. For Santa Clara it's the Carmelite Monastery with its bells. I still hear them in my musing call the nuns to pray at 6 Am, noon, and 6 pm, hopefully to pray for me. Like others I meandered through life after departing SCHC with journeys to places never expected and morphed from who I was to who I am, learning what I thought was may not be what is. At 77; I’m still morphing but less so. It's our time to fade away as new generations write their stories while our life trek sagas become history. The Banshee's tarried arrival for me is beyond my understanding due to my life of wonton dissipation. When it comes, I'll be ready as life has been good to me. Now for me it's kids and grand kids and if I live a little longer great grand kids. Then I'll be really old! My life, like others, changed based on small decision made, deemed unimportant when made, that skewed the course of my life unexpectedly to my present situation. I made lots of mistakes but in hindsight would redo them if reliving what I knew then, not now. Do I have regrets? Lots I didn't buy Apple stock at $5 a share. In hindsight my greatest regrets are believing things earlier that were determined later to be untrue but don't we all. On SCHS graduation,...Expand for more