Monolith
Carey went through a spectacular rough patch during the early 1970s. He had quit hauling water for Sparklettes and
did some world-class thrashing around while trying to settle into something
new. Among a series of false starts was
an attempt to break into the movies. He
had gone to the trouble to have head shots done and was sent out to a location
where they were filming an action drama with cowboys and Indians .
They had checked with him regarding his horsemanship and he had told
them he’d been riding since the age of five. However, Carey neglected to mention that (1) it was on one of those medicated Griffith Park ponies that walk slowly in a circle with a toddler on board; and
(2), that the nearest he had been to any horse since then was sitting in the
grandstands at Santa Anita.
The
scene called for him to take his mount down a hill, then across
a short level stretch before galloping down the main street of a 1880s Dodge City
His next move was to sell his corvette, give notice to the landlord of his furnished apartment and stop by my parent’s
house to bid farewell to us on his way to Canada Spain
Photo by Oscar Gianni
My
dad had worked on all types of cars and bikes since he was a kid. After Carey had ridden away from our place, my
dad, who was not known to smile much, couldn't stop grinning for days. It was about a week later when I unexpectedly ran into Carey again. The Ossa had thrown in the towel somewhere around Santa Barbara
Then
there was the six-month experiment with professional boxing. Phil Brubaker, a former world champion
heavyweight contender took Carey under his wing, providing a trainer, gym and training expenses plus room and board. Things progressed quite nicely until one
afternoon Carey sparred a few rounds with a large mass that stood on two legs and whom Carey referred to
after the session as the Butcher of Lyon .
This
same rough patch also provided some memorable relationships. There was the young lady who rang his phone
nonstop for 3 or 4 days before she finally took the hint. It was very annoying until we buried the
phone in the center of a tightly bunched mound of pillows and sofa cushions and
reduced the ringing to a barely audible trill.
When Carey decided to end things with yet another girl, he had driven half
way down the driveway when she hurled herself into the air and landed spread eagle on the hood of
his car. Yet for sheer athleticism, no one could match the girlfriend who worked for the circus performing the “Slide
for Life”; streaking down from the trapeze platform to the sawdust floor of the big top while
doing the splits.
Photo from Ringling Bros, and Barnum & Bailey
The flurry of relationships eventually came to rest
when Carey met Kitty. Kitty, who Carey referred to as "Kit-Kat"
when she was out of earshot, may have seemed like a reasonable pick after being
exposed to such a flurry of very odd characters. Kitty would best be
characterized as someone with permanently raised eyebrows and clenched fists.
She was tightly wound and I think Carey got a real charge out of watching
her build to a crescendo. If she had completed the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory) in high school, it would have been made painfully obvious to even the most junior of career counselors that Kitty was perfectly suited to
become the kingpin of a drug cartel.
No doubt there was a big turnaround taking place. In addition to finding himself in a relationship that lasted more than 48 hours Carey had also landed a steady job he liked, working as a pit boss at one of the six poker clubs in Gardena.
Carey called one day and invited Ingrid and me to drive down to where he was living with Kitty in Torrance. He told me he wanted us to go out to eat at a restaurant he had discovered in Hawaiian Gardens. I was skeptical at first because Hawaiian Gardens was a part of town whose residents wore body armor in those days. Carey was insistent on the phone claiming that if I saw the size of the Prime Rib they served, I would never forget it.
For Carey, of all people, to talk up a single dish in such a manner was significant. Here was a person who had a healthy appetite. The last time he ate dinner with us he downed a full box of Triscuits as a snack before we sat down to eat.
While in high school Carey had sat down at the counter of a coffee shop called Carolina Pines in Hollywood. The place has since been demolished but the pine trees in the background of the photo below are still there and line the street called Lanewood Avenue that sits one block west of the intersection of Sunset and La Brea.
Carey quickly finished off a serving of rice pudding and then looking into the glass cabinet where desserts were displayed and said, "This rice pudding is so good I could clean off both shelves." The three of us there with him agreed to split the bill to see if it was possible. Three and a half hours later, Carolina Pines was out of rice pudding.
Ingrid and I made our way down to Torrance, found Carey's place and sat down to chat. Kitty was still coming down from having been banned for life from Lion Country Safari the previous weekend. Carey had applied a layer of raw hamburger to the back bumper of their targa top Triumph TR3 and created quite a stir when they stopped for a while in the lions' compound.
We were munching chips and dip and some other nibbles for a while and it was getting to the point where we would need to leave for the restaurant. Carey pulled me aside and told me that he had just come from the upstairs bathroom where he had purged the contents of his stomach and now advised me to do the same.
I said, "You are truly out of your mind."
Carey said, "The hell I am. I promise you, no bull shit, the prime rib is bigger than the phone book."
Knowing full well how serious Carey was about food and that the telephone directory for the City of Los Angeles in those days was on 8 1/2 by 11 inch pages and was 3 inches thick, I followed his lead.
We drove into Hawaiian Gardens and pulled into a large strip mall off of Carson Blvd. Carey pointed to a neon sign that read "Mike's Chinese & American Food." I began to have doubts at this point, the location and the name of the place didn't seem as though we were in store for anything special but I held my tongue. We entered the restaurant and were seated at a table covered with a white table cloth. The server took our drink orders and asked if we were interested in appetizers. Carey gave me a look that said "don't even think about it."
While we sat waiting for our prime rib dinners to be brought to our table, Carey did his thing with the pepper shaker. He always checked the pepper shaker to see how quickly the pepper came out of the shaker. Usually the holes were too small to satisfy Carey's taste and he would remove the top from the shaker. This was definitely an omen.
Mike's Chinese & American Food restaurant is no longer around, I've never met anyone else who ate there. Since I never want to see Kitty again as long as I'm alive, Ingrid and Carey are the only available means I have to back me up on this story. You just have to trust me when I tell you that my water glass was the only thing on the table that was taller than the meat monolith they placed in front of me that night.
No doubt there was a big turnaround taking place. In addition to finding himself in a relationship that lasted more than 48 hours Carey had also landed a steady job he liked, working as a pit boss at one of the six poker clubs in Gardena.
Photo from The Daily Breeze
For Carey, of all people, to talk up a single dish in such a manner was significant. Here was a person who had a healthy appetite. The last time he ate dinner with us he downed a full box of Triscuits as a snack before we sat down to eat.
Photo from theimpulsebut.com
While in high school Carey had sat down at the counter of a coffee shop called Carolina Pines in Hollywood. The place has since been demolished but the pine trees in the background of the photo below are still there and line the street called Lanewood Avenue that sits one block west of the intersection of Sunset and La Brea.
Photo from vintage.es
Photo from afpllc.com
Ingrid and I made our way down to Torrance, found Carey's place and sat down to chat. Kitty was still coming down from having been banned for life from Lion Country Safari the previous weekend. Carey had applied a layer of raw hamburger to the back bumper of their targa top Triumph TR3 and created quite a stir when they stopped for a while in the lions' compound.
We were munching chips and dip and some other nibbles for a while and it was getting to the point where we would need to leave for the restaurant. Carey pulled me aside and told me that he had just come from the upstairs bathroom where he had purged the contents of his stomach and now advised me to do the same.
I said, "You are truly out of your mind."
Carey said, "The hell I am. I promise you, no bull shit, the prime rib is bigger than the phone book."
Knowing full well how serious Carey was about food and that the telephone directory for the City of Los Angeles in those days was on 8 1/2 by 11 inch pages and was 3 inches thick, I followed his lead.
We drove into Hawaiian Gardens and pulled into a large strip mall off of Carson Blvd. Carey pointed to a neon sign that read "Mike's Chinese & American Food." I began to have doubts at this point, the location and the name of the place didn't seem as though we were in store for anything special but I held my tongue. We entered the restaurant and were seated at a table covered with a white table cloth. The server took our drink orders and asked if we were interested in appetizers. Carey gave me a look that said "don't even think about it."
While we sat waiting for our prime rib dinners to be brought to our table, Carey did his thing with the pepper shaker. He always checked the pepper shaker to see how quickly the pepper came out of the shaker. Usually the holes were too small to satisfy Carey's taste and he would remove the top from the shaker. This was definitely an omen.
Mike's Chinese & American Food restaurant is no longer around, I've never met anyone else who ate there. Since I never want to see Kitty again as long as I'm alive, Ingrid and Carey are the only available means I have to back me up on this story. You just have to trust me when I tell you that my water glass was the only thing on the table that was taller than the meat monolith they placed in front of me that night.
Photo from pinterest.com