Today is like a day many, many years ago, in a land far away.  Hot, Humid, and the last gasp of a sweltering summer.  Today I am doing house work, and watering the lawn.  Back then, we lived in Camp housing, and the lawn was always brown anyway.  It was Southern California.

We had just moved in.  Having come from a place that was actually even more arid.  I was 12 going on 13, and the new kid in the area.  At the time, we were a family of 7.  And that was pittance compared to some of the others.  One behind us had 9 children, and another across the street had 7.  Bunk Bed Manufacturers were doing a booming business as these were 2-3 bedroom townhouses.

One of the first people to befriend me (as school had not started, and so I did not have the advantage of making friends there) was Benny.  We were the same age, and he lived next door.  He gave me the skinny on the neighborhood, who to avoid (Carlos) and who would be good to get to know.  So we became fast friends.  Literally spending the last month of summer hanging out every day together.

I was a recent emigrant from the east Coast.  So the west coast was totally new and different.  And I was learning about a lot of things.  While I had grown up with blacks, I had never met a Mexican.  Until Benny.

My Step father worked at the camp Hospital (Army has Forts, Navy has Bases, and Marines have camps).  And in front of that, was a lake.  Actually hardly bigger than a pond.  But it was called a lake and it had fish.  So one day my father told me to go fishing!  AH!  Now that I love!  So I asked Benny if he wanted to go the next day and he readily agreed!  Fishing!  I guess some women like it, but boys love it!  We hunted for a good rich spot that had the potential for worms, soaked the area, and dug.  And found some.  Good size ones at that!  The Fishing would be good!

The next morning we got up early, grabbed our fishing poles, and headed out.  Benny's mom had made some homemade flour Tortillas, hot, and buttered them.  And wrapped them up in Tin Foil.  Half way to the 'Lake', we realized we had forgotten the worms!  The only bait I had was salmon eggs and Velveeta (anyone been trout fishing in California knows why those 2).  But this lake had no trout.  So we had a decision to make.  Go back and get them (and waste half a day as the walk was a 2 hour one), or try the 'trout bait', and hope.  We went on.

We got there, and the lake was really just for show.  but it did have fish.  And shade trees (also rare for the area), and a good bank.  So we broke out our tackle, and tried the trout bait.  And got nothing!  We tried for a couple of hours. Nothing.

But we did have a skimmer net, and there were minnows in the lake.  So we scooped a few and started using them.  And were justly rewarded with a couple of Bass!  One apiece!  it was the lazy hazy days of late summer, so we were in no rush.  Benny broke out his Tortillas, and I sampled them.  My first time tasting a home made tortilla.  It was love at first bite!  I can still taste them to this day.  Nothing beats a first love!

after fishing for about 5 hours, and only getting the 2 bass, I went to tell my Step Father we were headed home, and Benny and I left  With our fish.

It is funny what makes a strong memory.  And why among all our memory as we get older, some stick and others are filed only to be awakened when something significant jogs them.  This one is one of the former, as I often think about that summer day and day dream about it.

Shortly after that, Benny's dad got transfered to the East Coast, but then School started, and I made new friends.  But I never forgot Benny and his mom's tortillas!  I wish we could have fished more.  But alas that was our only occasion.

I guess that is why it is so special, and why I remember it so fondly,  When so many others have faded to the file cabinet.