prune picker

This is the blog of a prune picker. (Native born Californian) Retired oilfield. I am an old man. (91) I blog a lot about my body and getting old. As I approach death life gets more interesting. More interesting is not good. I still drive. I attend sports, music, and civic events. I am writing my memoirs. I attend swim class three times a week. Some of my blogs might be interesting. A lot of my blogs are silly and trivial. None are very long.

Wednesday, October 12, 2016

PrunePicker Memories of my brother, Warren Thomas Monson.

Warren was born in Chino, California in 1921 and passed away in Seattle, Washington in 2003 at the age of 82.



Warren was a character and lived in a world all of his own until the day that he died. He was good looking like Keith and George. (What happened to me?) I spent more time with Warren then I did with any other sibling. Most of my siblings were in their twenties and thirties in my formative years and were out in the world on their own. Warren was only five years older than me. For a time the two of us lived with my Dad. This was for 3 or 4 years after the all the other family members had gone their way.

Warren was a swinger. He had the latest hot rod with beautiful sounding loud exhaust manifold and pipes. I can remember him working at the movie theatre and the skating rink. He was a good skater. He skated around and around backwards with a whistle for people who did not skate right. Warren was married five times. Two of the marriages were to the same woman.

Warren enlisted in the armed forces three times. They were the Navy, Air force, and the Marines. He must have liked uniforms because he worked for long time for the bus company.

Warren was always in debt. One debt was to a jewelry store for expensive watches and other goodies. My sister Jean tried to keep him above water. Years later he would visit Jackie and I and borrow money. He did pay any back. He came one time when Jackie and I were living in Oildale. Before he arrived Jackie hid our money in an ice cube tray. I could not find it so could not loan him any money on that visit. That was cold hard cash!

For the last part of his life Warren lived in Seattle. While Jackie and I were RVing and when we settled on the Olympic Peninsula I saw him once or twice a year. He lived in a camper truck parked behind a friend’s house. Three or 4 years before he passed away Warren had cancer on his jaw. Most of his jaw was cut out and he lived on food that was ground up with a blender. To the last time I saw him he was the same old Warren. He was always smoking, drinking beer, and talking about sex. I sat in some prime examples of a beer dump (in West Seattle) with him. He was well known, liked and always had a tab. I still loaned him money.

1 comment:

  1. Another great story...Thanks Mr. Prune Picker

    Bigfoot

    ReplyDelete

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