Pauley's Tavern and Pool Hall

Daydreams to cope with sometimes take on lives of their own....

al·le·go·ryˈ (aləˌgôrē) noun

plural noun: allegories

   "A story, poem, or picture that can be interpreted to reveal a hidden meaning, typically a moral or political one."

   “An Allegory is a form of extended metaphor in which objects, persons and actions in a narrative, are equated with meanings that lie outside the narrative itself.

The underlining meaning has moral, social, religious or political significance of abstract ideas as charity, greed and envy.

Thus an allegory is a story with two meanings, a literal meaning and a symbolic meaning.”

   Yes, I looked it the f*ck up and with that you know what is needed to be known to understand what the Pauley’s Tavern and Pool Hall book series is about.

  Oh I should add that the censor is pretty much off most of the time. PG this story is not. PG13 neither. R yes; but beyond that?

Shhh....

Now some background info on the place ”The R*tards" go to play.

(Pauley’s term of endearment for his patrons that don’t act their age, especially when sh*tfaced.

Think about what "r*tarded" means, then how it's used in every day language to be an insulting description.

Just like calling a child a "b*stard", some words should be questioned as too f*cked up to use like they're whatever.

"Wh***" is another one with an edge, and yes these words among others will be questioned, but you as readers decide the fate of these words as they apply to your personal vocabularies.)

   Pauley’s Tavern and Pool Hall is a sort of 'speak-easy' name for The Iron Horseshoe Tavern established back in 1974 by Paul "Pauley" Kelly.

It’s called this to keep what are now known as 'hipster' invaders away, and its whereabouts only known by word of mouth.

Is it elitist?

Perhaps.

Or it is about self preservation and preventing as long as possible, their haven from being taken over by those that do not honor tradition, nor would uphold Pauley's Code of Conduct.

  New folks are welcome, as long as they can respect the School House Rules and don't complain when Lucy gets unplugged; otherwise foos are getting their a*ses expelled!

   Over the years The Tavern has become a home away from home club house for old timers and mostly blue collar roughneck man children with its latest motley generation currently in their 30’s, give or take.

Some married with children or divorced with visitation on the weekends.

They have bills to pay, money to save, jobs to not f*ck up in order to do both.

Occasionally these a*sholes may brawl and Pauley’s shotgun Grace taken out to dance, with Jukebox Lucy playing the soundtrack; but overall the place is mellow on a weekday afternoon.

   The crowd that made The Tavern its watering hole is loyal and there is a sense of kinship between the boozer drunks.

Stories this tavern has no lack of thanks to the antics of the patrons, which also include my own.

   I wrote myself in as a character using my real name because all this stemmed from a daydream I had, to keep me company while I went for long walks with detours, in my new town of residence;

Boyle Heights, California.

   Though home for me will always be my beloved

East Los Angeles, Califas

   One day I thought of a man that didn’t exist to help me move on and let go of the past, by focusing on the existing hope of the present and lessons learned.

  Perhaps it was my way to prepare myself mentally for the future because I don't have much to my name other than my imagination.

 “Mikey, Jacob, Bobby, Joe, Paul, Davey, Alex, Dennis and Lou”

   Names of made up men that are a close knit pack of pals I will never forget.

They all represent an aspect of the men I have known, both in the good and bad; but they are human, even if fictional.

They are part of the details to the symposium full of zanies.

   This story experiment at times is a sort of open love letter to men that have shown their integrity even as they also try to get things right.

These men are strong but also weak.

Happy but still stressed.

Hopeful but discouraged at times with what they feel is out of their control.

It’s a mix we all endure, but with them; I feel how unequal men still are when it comes to expressing their feelings on it all.

How do I know?

I'm a daughter of one that expressed them regardless.

   The women in this saga also are shown going through their own life roller coasters and attaining their triumphs for they too are strong and capable.

It’s just with them, the way their stories are told is different.

How different?

The goal is to show we could use a little bit of understanding from the fellas.

With their stories, I hope to tell men that not all of us are their enemies or psychos, that more often than not, there was an issue with communicating and emotions go on edge.

We can be worthy of trusting and also respecting.

I hope to tell, we can have our bad days too, even if our hairstyles look nice; and we don't always know what the f*ck we're doing either.

We do know we could be wrong also.

No really.

Women are capable of knowing they can be wrong. Getting us to admit it, now that's something else.

*cough*

I want to show the men I was able to reach through to, women can be their friends as well, and shoulder part of the old burdens that say a man must bare these alone.

Even as women, we can relate and be more than arm candy hood ornaments, "Honey can you bring me a beer?".

  But this is to reassure the males that are willing to read, they'll have a place in what is usually considered female terrain.

  Yes this is a quirky soap opera Spanglish novela, for a subculture of those that bought in to what a friend called:

"The Rockabilly Retirement Plan for Punks, Skins and Goths".

And what was surprising, the guys did get in to it as much as the gals. I mean, how can I write an open love letter to men, if I don't include what matters to and interests them?

  From the serious like Erectile Dysfunction or even the car not starting and being already late for work.

To the "Are you f*cking serious!?!" and the latter said in two manners.

One with enthusiastic glee like they scored, and the other in BOHICA despair.

Espeakin' of which....

This is a bedtime story dedicated most of all to Our Troops and 'Docs' green side or civilian; for I do know the power of a reality break, if not reading oneself asleep.

And this because I want to "Play It Forward" and yes I do mean play.

  The man I would spend countless silent moments, wondering about his happiness and safety; he was the life lesson I needed to get me out of a bad place; even as I felt helpless knowing which bad place he was headed back to.

This Army Coptor Doctor ridding one of Anansi's spiderweb threads, tied to the foot of a Dragonfly Dustoff back in Stan; reminded me why being able to control your focus, makes dealing with difficult things, easier to cope with.

The chaos will still be there, it's how you allow it to affect you, that makes a very important difference.

You either learn how to hold on and fight or you don't. That "don't" had been my concern for him.

There was a reason his story began to stand out to me.

"Yet for me that also came from the desert, compassion I also knew how to show...."

  Eyes like his and lack of smile, you don't forget.

He had the face of many that aren't returning all that well; but his face comforted me when it would look silly; but haunted when it was a stoic with unintended, resigned grace.

  So this allegory that aims to be a cult classic, does have its soul, as that odd daydream of mine, found a life of its own.

And it became a Shoretale Fable of Therapy in Motion and thinking up the answers that become the solutions.

It's all just rhyming for the reasons, that carry us through the seasons of change.

Suggestion: Look up Grandiose, Ostentatious, Pretentious, Narcissistic, Delusional, Self Absorbed Motor Mouth, but most of all Ironic Catharsis. Thank you.

Back To The Top Where It Starts

Copyright ©2017 Rev. Mother L. G. Flores. All Rights Reserved.

Heaven Please Bless All That is "Pauley's...." and May No Harm Come To This Therapy In Motion, Adult After School Special, What Happens Cuando Nos Ponemos Las Pilas, Mark In Miles Stones, for This Dreamer and Music Maker Shake, Rattle n' Roll!

Amen.

"Siempre Fiel En Lagrimas Y Sangre"

Play videos for soundtrack

“Walk in the rain with me…”

By L.G. Flores

Thursday, October 11, 2012

The Lighthouse/My Apartment (Sleep Palace on the 2nd Floor)

Boyle Heights, CA

9:22am

Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong- “Isn’t This A Lovely Day”

  I woke up as usual, not sure of what day it is. I fold back my Koala blanket and try to remember what I dreamt of.  I forgot. I get up out of bed and I feel the chill in the air from leaving the window open. I can hear that it had rained earlier. The cars driven over the wet asphalt have a distinct sound. I don’t feel like having coffee today, it feels like it should be a calm, mellow sipping tea day.

  Being that it’s cold, I felt like having a warm breakfast of Malt O’ Meal sweetened with brown sugar. I look out the kitchen window and it seems it will be overcast all day. I look for my cell phone to see what the weather forecast will be.  There is a problem. My cell phone feels wet which pretty much tells me I’m assed out. I really don’t need this.

  I look at my cell phone not responding to my attempt to dry it out on top of the stove between the burners where it’s warm. Dang, yet another expense I wasn’t counting on. I pretty much accepted I got to bite the bullet and suck this cost up too. I also have to pay my cable internet bill before the due date. I get dressed even if I don’t want to, but I got to get to this. I put on my blue jeans, my Beatles’ Abby Road tee, MC and driver cap. For the kicks, I stick with my tennies since I haven’t bought new padded inserts for my boots, besides I do not impress anyone. I see out my bedroom window, it isn’t raining. I step out without an umbrella.

  I walk to the Metro Gold Line train station and I remember how yesterday I lucked out not getting a ticket for hopping to Union Station.  There have been a lot of cops at the stations lately; perhaps they need to fill their quota.  I paid for another month on my disabled bus pass and sure as shit, there was a cop checking the Tap cards at the Soto stop. I saw a chick that wasn’t as lucky. She was getting a $250 ticket, sucked to be her. 

  I take the train to East LA Civic Center and walk to The Time Warner Cable office. I was dreading it because I called customer service and was told I owe $73 because of the deposit balance I was surprised with. When I get to the office, I get good news. I didn’t have to pay that much, just the $33 for my monthly service charges. I was cut some slack, and I could pay that deposit in 4 payments. I take the train back home.

   I go up the stairs of my apartment building. My cell phone still was a glitch and I couldn’t respond to the text messages I was getting. Only reason it got wet was because cabrona was spazzing about not finding the office of my shrink that I recommended to her. I was taking a bath and well just goes to show how much I'm willing to put other people first and at times literally at my expense. I could have ignored her texts and relaxed in the tub as I was trying to get sleepy, but I knew it was her first time ever speaking to a psychologist to help her with the issues that needed a fresh and trained perspective.

  I look for the cell phone "Ziggy I" that was the last one I used before getting my current cell phone I didn’t name. My plan was, if I can take that phone in and get a new one that works that would be cool. If that didn’t work, then it was putting Ziggy back online and save up for one of those smart phones I’ve been resisting. I’ve seen too many with cracked glass to trust those.

  Well I went to the Metro PCS where Food 4 Less is and I almost forked out $109 to get a new one. Then I was told I could try their corporate office about the exchange. So back I go to the starting point.  I considered walking back home to layer my top under my MC and take out my umbrella. Though I already walked in the rain, I didn’t and decide it was indeed a lovely day to walk in the rain.  I check my pocket for change, I had enough to use a public payphone to call my mom so she would know my situation and not worry because I didn’t answer my phone with her daily early evening call. She picked up and I told her what was up. She wasn’t going to worry which is good. I return to walking towards the bus stop on Soto and 1st.

  My thoughts hold a conversation within. Though I listen to them, I hardly spoke making it seem I am quiet. If I was, it was because the raindrops were more interesting; along with the flashes of lightning and seconds passing to tell how far away they were with their sound of thunder.  I get to Soto and catch the 605 that would take me to Lorena and Whittier. I ride that bus and see the wet aisle between the seats, and the different colors and patterns of umbrellas. I still am okay not having mine with me.  What I thought was nice, the bus passed King Cole’s Pizza on Lorena that has Beer and Wine on its sign along with a Free Large Pizza offer. Perhaps Mikey would like to go with me and drink beer or wine and chow down. My stop came up and I step off.

   I cross the street to catch the 18. I’m cold and wet, but it’s bearable. The 18 going to Montebello Station stops and I get on. I take a seat next to a man and I put my bus pass back in my wallet and put that wallet in my back pocket. Again I look at the wet aisle and the umbrellas of those that came prepared. I get to my stop and look for the Metro PCS office that I was told is next to a Jack in a Box. I considered stopping by to get their tacos, fried cheese sticks and jalapenos poppers, but I told myself to be good. I find the corporate office.  I couldn’t get a replacement for my phone, because it did look like water damage so whatever warranties there was were void. This meant Ziggy I came back out of retirement. It will take me a lot of months to save for a new phone with a QWERTY pad and a touch screen. This I’m willing to compromise on.

  Right after Ziggy gets reactivated, I get a text from Mari. It’s been a month since I texted with Ziggy and I had a bit of trouble remembering how he worked. With all the texted in blogs I’ve done before I had my own personal internet connection; I wore down his keys. I reply to Mari and asked her for Lola’s number since I seen she was the last one to text me and her number wasn’t in my contacts with Ziggy. We’ve been bonding and I like her too as a soul sister friend.

  Not too long after texting Mari, Annie calls. I tell her what happened. We talk for a few minutes, and then hang up. I keep an eye out for Soto since the over head voice wasn’t announcing the stops. This makes me glad I wore my glasses. The 18 stops at Soto and I step off. I could have taken the 251 or 252 to avoid the walk up Soto. I decided I didn’t get to walk much in the rain last year, so it was a lovely day to get caught in the rain, walking the sidewalk and skipping puddles that I didn’t clear, making my socks get wet.

  I walk and take in the weather. I pass Sam’s Tacos with a giant hamburger and elephant on its shack roof. I found it so East LA progressive paisa that they offer Wi-Fi access for their customers. Like” here, grub on your tacos and burritos and surf the web…”  Who needs coffee houses when you got this?

  I like this. I like that I am walking in the rain. I feel hungry and I’m craving meat. I haven’t eaten much of it because it’s expensive and besides, I got to watch my cholesterol; but I lost the battle with avoiding it and stepped in to the Carl’s Jr. on 4th. I look at the menu; I considered getting the Santa Fe chicken sandwich with Ortega peppers. I’ve made a close version before and contemplated buying what I need and making one myself, but the fried zucchini called out to me. I decided to try something different. I go for the fried Bacon Swiss.

  I place my order to go and am given the #17 card and a small cup for my combo drink. I thought it was disappointing that the young girl that took my order had ‘eh’ customer service skills. I used to be a Carl’s Jr. employee myself and I rawked as a “Dining Room Attendant and Cashier”; so much so, I got recruited by the district and store managers for the Blockbuster Video that eventually closed down in Atlantic Square in Monterey Park. Hard to believe it once was the busiest and highest grossing store in LA for that corporation. The reason they asked me to apply was how I opened the door for them and had a genuine, perky smile. But today, I was reminded about the day I had to pick up trash in the parking lot of Carl’s Jr. while it was raining and I played in it. I guess it helped to keep me young. I wouldn’t mind playing in the rain with my soul sisters and if not with them, perhaps with Michael. I need to call him.

5:47pm

(Phone ringing--calling Michael)

“Hello beautiful.”

“Hello handsome. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

 “Not at all I was just listening to some Amos Lee and sketching.”

“Which song?”

 “Sweet Pea.”

“Nice.”

 “I thought so. So what did you do today?”

 “I walked in the rain without my umbrella.”

“You’re going to catch a cold doing that.”

 “Maybe, but it felt good. Aye Michael, would you like to come over and walk in the rain with me?”

 “Will we be using an umbrella?”

 “If we have to.”

 “Well in that case, yes. It may take me a while to get there with traffic though.”

 “I can wait.”

 “Okay, but think of me while you do.”

 “I could do that.”

“Okay, I’ll see you in a bit. Bye.”

“Bye.” (Click)

 

Pauley's Tavern and Pool Hall

October 30, 2013

Jukebox Lucy Sings The Soundtrack: Billy Idol "Dancing With Myself"

http://youtu.be/FG1NrQYXjLU

This song I can not stay sad when I hear it. I'll tell you a quickie story.

So I'm the pizza girl back at 2 For 1 Pizza in East LA that is under new management again and it is now known as Dave's 2 for 1 Pizza and order the Mexicana pizza that does make several appearances in "Pauley's..." but the sausage is switched out for pineapple for a more "Al Pastor" taste with the chorizo. It is my pizza pie of choice and heart attack on a plate.

Okay so I sling pizzas, even throw the dough in to the air to stretch it out, etc. and I'm closing that night which means I clean up the front where the tables are. This song came on the radio that at the time was on KROQ 106.7fm, that was where to tune in to for "Alternative" music in the 1980's-90's. Now it's too commercialized. The DJ's I remember were Jed The Fish, Kevin and Bean, Kennedy, and even The Poor Man that was the first host of Love Line with Dr. Drew; that makes a camio in the movie "Men At Work" with brothers Emilio Estevez and Charlie Sheen, I bet you had forgotten about it!. The show Love Line also comes out in the series.

Anyhoo, I'm blasting the radio and I'm cleaning the front and mind you the front wall where the door is, is all glass; and with the light on, you could look in, but it's hard to look out. I hadn't gotten to the table tops yet with soap and disinfectant, but as soon as Billy came on, I got up on to one of the table tops and started dancing with myself too! I was pogoing, doing the Molly Ringwald dance from Breakfast Club and just getting in to it with my tight black jeans rolled up, showing off my Harley knock off boots, 'coz my look had a bit of SID to it. I made my boss laugh, but that was just how punk I was... OI!

So m'kay, enjoy the flashback and remember:

DANCE WITH YOURSELVES!!!

~L.G.

Sunday November 3, 2013
The Lighthouse/My Apartment
Boyle Heights, CA
2:46pm
13 More Days To Go Before Turning In My Keys

I like how the "Force" of the Universe works sometimes when I get a cool giddy tickle hee hee...

  So yesterday for those of you that didn't know, was the holiday of "Dias de los Muertos"/"Day of the Dead". I had contemplated dressing up and going somewhere where the festivities were happening. I looked up online to see if Olvera Plaza (La Placita Olvera) was doing anything. It was about 5pm when my friend Ana called and we spoke about hanging out for a bit. Anyway, I slather on the Sugar Skull face paint and put on a Mexican embroidered white cotton top that was actually embroidered in Chiapas. I put on the "head dress" I bought at Mariachi Plaza this past Summer of ruby glittered roses with black leaves and a skull in the middle rose.

The plan was to go to Target in Alhambra, then her drop me off at Olvera St. where I would take the Gold Line home from Union Station that is across the way; and yes I got funny looks at Target. The cashier that rung up our merch, she was an older Latina lady that said I made her smile seeing me in traditional folk dress with the make-up, and honoring the holiday. She also said seeing me mad her sad for a moment because she thought of her brother that passed away the month before. I gave my condolences, but we finished crossing paths, smiling.

Well plans changed after we seen on 1st St. Mariachi Plaza was also having an event for part of the main drag was closed off for the celebration held there. After Target, she drops me off down the street. Passing the coppers assigned to the event, one older gent gave me kuddos for my outfit as did others. It was an awesome friendly event and next year, Heaven willing; I'll post for y'all my own pics of the experience that includes my very own shrine and walking in the procession over at Olvera Street. I also may try my hand at baking some authentic "Pan de Muertos" or bread of the dead which is a yeast, sweet roll with "crossbones" and colored sprinkles; it's almost like challa bread which is a Jewish bread eaten on Sabbath and holidays. Pretty good stuff though I prefer dipping it in Mexican hot chocolate rather than champurrado which is really more of a thinned out sweet gravy that is drinkable. It's not bad, it's just, I like the hot chocolate better if there isn't pecan flavored atole, which is a hot milk drink that is made during tamale season which is approaching the colder the days get; and yes my 1st generation American Mexican ass will be trying my hand at making some. I want to make the traditional Mexican kind that uses corn husks, but also the tropical Latin versions that uses banana leaves and yucca root for the masa (dough). Where was I? Oh yeah...

I walk up and listen to this goth sounding band. They were okay, but I seen that on the opposite end of the closed off strip, there was another band playing in the gazebo. Their sound was like vampire Dick Dale surf guitar meets a stoned Santana jam session. I walk up and I'm looking around without my glasses on, and I was surrounded by many also wearing skull paint on their faces. I'm listening to the band when I look over and see a short, older gent that looked familiar. I call out "Don Raul!" and he turns his head and it was him! My little old man friend that is a troubadour/minstrel and painter returned to Boyle Heights. He recognized me under the face paint and we embrace, I right away knew that the evening began just as intended I feel, by the mysterious force of the Universe and Fate. If I stuck to my original plan of going to Olvera Street, or staying home packing, I wouldn't have run in to him. So yes, I took running in to him a kick down that would make my day/night.

Don Raul and I hung out in to the wee hours after coming back to my apartment to share a 12 pk of Tecate and a pack of smokes. I think it was around 5am when we finally called it a night and he slept in my arm chair. We were supposed to hang out today, but I woke up hung over and I didn't write down his new phone number. I know where I can leave him a message, at the restaurant he performs at, and I trust it would go through if I don't see him there myself first.

Hanging out with Don Raul was awesome because when we do, story time comes out and so does the guitar. I have one my second father in law gave me for Christmas some years ago. I ask Don Raul if I made dinner, would he teach me how to play. He is very accomplished with that instrument and also cooking. I played some rockabilly tunes I like, with a galloping beat; and just by ear, he was able to play it back. I forget how many decades he's been playing the guitar, but he says you never stop learning and it is all committed practice. I invited him to my house warming party I hope to have by early December. Nothing huge, just some close friends and grub I cook, besides bake. I'm really looking forward to baking again, chyeah!

Okies well that being said...

~L.G.

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Copyright ©2018 By Rev. Mother L.G. Flores. All Rights Reserved.

Heaven Please Bless All That is "Pauley's...." and May No Harm Come To This Therapy In Motion, Adult After School Special, What Happens Cuando Nos Ponemos Las Pilas, Mark In Miles Stones, for This Dreamer and Music Maker Shake, Rattle n' Roll!

Amen.

"Siempre Fiel En Sangre y Lagrimas"