After our arrival, we boarded a taxi near downtown Los Angeles. My mother climbed into the front seat with the driver, a husky black-haired fellow (probably in his late 20s). He might have been foreign. I got into the back seat and we rode off.

When I looked at the sky-line, I saw many tall buildings as well as many iron girders. It looked as if it would be a nice place to visit. I asked my mother if Ronald and Violet lived close to downtown. She wasn't sure exactly where they lived. I told her I definitely wanted to return later in the day to downtown and walk the streets since I had never been in downtown Los Angeles.

The taxi meter showed a charge of $11 immediately as we began moving. I knew it had cost us a great deal to fly to Los Angeles. I asked my mother why we simply hadn't driven ourselves to have avoided all the extra charge. She seemed somewhat concerned about all the money she had spent.

After we had traveled a while, I asked the driver if it were much farther. He said we were almost there and we only needed to go down a few more streets. Finally, we came to an apartment complex and the driver said it was the blue apartment. I looked in the direction he had indicated and saw some cars with Ohio license tags (white with red letters) parked there. My mother said, "That must be it."

We pulled up and got out of the car. We had some baggage which the taxi driver offered to carry in for us. We needed to walk up a little hill and I was going to have to carry Chris since he couldn't walk. I knew Chris was going to be heavy and I took a few minutes to prepare myself. I reflected how the muscles in my legs were strong so that I could walk, while the muscles in Chris's legs had deteriorated so he couldn't walk. Finally, I picked him up, put him on my back and headed toward the house.

When we reached the house, I put Chris down. We entered a large kitchen which adjoined a large living room. Apparently, the house was quite spacious. My aunt Violet immediately greeted us. She looked very different. I heard someone in the background say something about uncle Jim and I thought the person must be referring to my first cousin Jimmy.

Apparently, Ronald and Violet's children—my first cousin Jimmy, my first cousin Ronnie, my first cousin Barbara, as well as a fourth child—had all brought their families out to California to visit. Someone pulled out a small picture of my sister, dressed in a little red dress, when she had been about 10 years old. The picture made a crying sound and I said, "I used to hate that sound when I used to hear it."

Violet introduced me to some people there. I hardly recognized anyone. One fellow (probably in his early 20s) walked up and Violet asked me if I knew who he was. I didn't. I thought he might be Jimmy, but he didn't look like Jimmy. I said, "Well it must be Ronald."

I was referring to my first-cousin Ronnie. But he wasn't Ronnie either. She said he was Roland. I thought she meant my first cousin Rolland. But she said he wasn't Rolland, but Roland. I couldn't remember who Roland was, but it seemed to me that he was a little boy whom I hadn't seen in many years. I said something like, "Well it's been 20 years since I've seen anyone. Roland was just a little tiny boy. No wonder I don't recognize him."

I hugged him. And then I hugged Violet. When I hugged her, she began crying a little and she bent her head down so I couldn't see her face. I patted her on the back of the head. I began wondering why Ronald and Violet had moved to California. It seemed strange they would move away from all their children back in Ohio.

I saw my first-cousin Barbara. She seemed to be in her early 20s, had black hair and was attractive, but she also looked different. I wanted to hug her, but I got involved in hugging other people and she got away before I could get to her. We finally stopped hugging and Barbara walked back into the room. I said hello to her. She was the only one I really wanted to hug. I thought I would like to feel her breasts squeezing against me.

She walked toward the bathroom and said something about her being a month pregnant. She did appear to have gained some weight. I said, "I didn't even know you were pregnant."

Violet walked into another part of the house. A woman who I thought might be Ronnie's wife, June, was in the room. I said hi to her but she apparently didn't hear me. She seemed to be getting something from a table near me. Other people in the room began sitting down. Barbara came back into the room and began talking to me. She said, "So you're a lawyer now in Dallas, the tent city."

I was unsure why she had referred to Dallas as "the tent city." I thought at one time maybe people had traveled through Dallas and had lived in tents. I replied, "Well I'm not really a lawyer."

I was going to try to explain to her that I was no longer a lawyer; but I decided not to go into it right then.

Instead, I decided to do some exercises. I was standing between a table to my right and a counter to my left. I was wearing blue jeans and I didn't have on a shirt. I put my right hand on the table and my left hand on the counter. I then balanced myself in the air and I began raising my legs until they were parallel to the ground. Exercising like that felt good. I noticed my stomach had a little bit of flab which I needed to work off.

I thought about my wearing blue jeans and how I now wore blue jeans just about everywhere, whereas most people in Quebec City, Canada—where I had recently been living—liked to dress up and didn't wear blue jeans. But I thought blue jeans were sufficient. I actually was a lawyer and I felt I didn't have to prove anything by getting dressed up.

My hair also was getting quite long. There again I thought I had the freedom to wear my hair however I wanted without being concerned about what people thought.

Barbara began talking about how when I had been growing up, my mother used to plan little activities for me with the intention of forming my personality. Apparently, Barbara had recently attended a lecture dealing with that same subject. Barbara used a word to describe what my mother had done. I asked her to repeat the word. She did, but I still couldn't understand the word. It sounded as if she were saying "oxy-something." I said, "Oh it's one of those fancy words."

I thought it was a rarely used, large word. I asked her to spell it, but she became distracted with something else and I couldn't get her attention. But finally she spelled the first part of the word—oxy-.

I thought I would show off a little bit and said, "Oxy in Greek means 'sharp'."

I thought about other words which began with "oxy." I thought, "Oxidize, oxidation, oxygen."

Suddenly, over an intercom system, came a woman's voice which I thought belonged to either Jimmy's or Ronnie's wife. She said that a certain activity had been planned to take place in about 10 minutes and that everyone should get ready. It appeared to me they were going to do the same type of thing that Barbara had said my mother used to do with me—plan things out.

But what I really wanted to do was go to downtown Los Angeles, find an art store and buy some art books. I thought then I could come back and the others could help me cut out pictures. That would give them something interesting to do.