Santa Monica Pier, April 2006
When I was eleven, my mother rented a room from an ex nun named Jean. Jean was great and she had a friend named Vito who fished off the Santa Monica Pier every day. Vito was in his eighties. He was about five feet tall and he wore a beat up, small-brimmed fedora and a huge grey mustache. Every once in a while I would spend whole summer days fishing off the pier with Vito. We didn't talk a lot since he preferred visual instruction. I once a caught a good-sized fish that was borderline regulation. Fish have to be a certain size to keep. Vito said it looked a little undersized but if I was quick, I could probably get it off the pier and keep it. This was such a dilemma for me. I envisioned myself getting caught by some unseen fishing police. Vito kept saying, Go, go, already. And I just stayed staring at the fish. I didn't really know if I wanted to keep a fish anyway. After a lot of time, I went to the side of the pier and threw my fish back in. And it floated back to the top on its side. I didn't tell Vito, but my heart still sinks when I think of that image. I didn't fish with Vito again.
Maya and Mina have officially started their basketball season. Mina's first game -ever!- will be this Saturday. Maya had her first game last night. Here are a couple photos for Gratuitous Gorgeousness Friday.
Maya's new kicks.
Maya about to make a free-throw.
1 hour ago