www.raleysexposed.com - MY DAD/THE RUSSIAN RIVER 1969

UNDER CONSTRUCTION

This page will be used to highlight the resort town that Charles Nordby was living in shortly before three businessmen at Raley's enticed him to move his family to the Sacramento Valley to implement his profit increasing program into many of their unprofitble stores back in 1973. Charles Nordby grew up in this part of the world. Point Arena, CA is where he and his sister Helen were raised as children and went to school.

There's many unique experiences he and his family had while living along the Russian River during some of the craziest times closing out the decade of the 1960s.

I want to start this page off with the article The Sacamento Union newspaper published in October of 1973. Five months before this article was written, he was still living along the Russian River and not too far from the town of Guerneville.


	Above is a GOOGLE map that identifies where the Rio Nido Lodge is located, which is positioned along the Russian River in Northern California. This is where Charles Nordby, his wife Marilou, and the youngest of their nine children lived after they left Fremont, CA in 1969...after I graduated from high school. Charles Nordby lived at this resort for a number of years, and then moved to another house in the Guerneville area...which is located a couple of miles west of the Rio Nido Lodge, along the Russian River. Nordby was hired by Raley's as a consultant in the summer of 1973. Raley's, shortly after witnessing the great results from his profit increasing program, provided Nordby a room at the Marina Inn so he wouldn't have to commute daily to Sacramento. Then in the summer of 1974, Raley's enticed him to relocate his family to the Sacramento area and work full-time for Tom Raley's supermarket chain. Click on the "map camera controls" to drag pegman onto the map to open the street view...where the red target area is. Also featured above on this map is the location "Point Arena." This is where Charles Nordby was raised along with his sister Helen. A beautiful small town along Highway 1.

	The Rio Nido Lodge 1: Resturant was located at the back. 2: There was a billiards size pool table inside this lodge...located in a room to the side of the entrance. 3: There were also a couple of pinball machines inside Hotel/lodge in which one of them my mother became addicted to. LOL Charles Nordby was hired in 1969, at the beginning of the summer, to manage the small grocery store that was located at the entrance to Rio Nido. He was later asked to manage the entire Rio Nido Lodge that included swimming pool; pool table game room; ice cream parlor; cabin rentals; etc. Another photo of the Hotel Lodge. Grocery store is no longer here. Below is a picture found on the internet that provides a better visual of what amenities were available at the time in 1964. In the picture above, you can see the arrow pointing to the "Stage". This might also be "THE BARN". Rock bands would perform here. I didn't live here at the time "The Barn" was featuring the rock bands. The music venue had ended shortly after Charles Nordby was working at this resort. From what I heard people were not paying to enter The Barn and just listening to the music outside, so the music groups stopped playing there as this was just a losing money situation for the resort. Pictue of the Rio Nido Post Office. courtesy of the internet. Use the maps on this page to see the entire area.
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Click on the "map camera controls" to drag pegman onto the map to open the street view...where the red target area is.

Above is a GOOGLE map that identifies where 16756 Guernewood Rd, Guerneville, CA is located. This is where Charles Nordby, his wife Marilou, and the youngest of their nine children lived before Raley's enticed him to move to Sacramento to work for Raley's as a consultant in 1973. He was no longer managing the Rio Nido Resort and he was looking to position himself back into the grocery business as a consultant to assist grocery stores with low gross margins.

I had stayed with my parents in this home for a short period of time. While living there, I assisted my dad in typing his book titled "The Rich Are Stealing." I did the typing up in an attic that was there in this house. The kind of a typewriter I used was a manual...Royal brand I believe. It could have been an Underwood...too long ago to remember which one it was..

I had to make sure that I was totally perfect in my typing-and if I wasn't, my dad would bring me the page I made a typing error and ask me to correct the error.

It's interesting too that the first job I had in the grocery business was being employed at an Albertsons store located in Boise, Idaho...and while working at this store, the first person I caught stealing was the grandson of one of Alberstons's biggest stockholders who was probably very wealthy...THE RICH ARE STEALING.

AND THEN YOU SEE THE DISHONEST PEOPLE AT RALEY'S WHOM NORDBY MADE RICH---ALL YOU CAN SAY IS THAT THE RICH, THEY ARE STEALING.

Actually, I occasionally worked in the small grocery store at the resort my dad was managing as he needed help from a number of other employees to ring up groceries during the day.

I was living at the Rio Nido Resort in the summer 1969. I arrived there after July 4th, as I was sent to be with my parents from Contra Costa County Juvenile Dept. as my friend. Denis Bruner and I (we were under the age of 18) were picked up at a park in Concord for breaking curfew laws.

My dad was managing this resort and he had provided me a job(s) while I lived there. Occasionally I worked inside the small grocery store but mostly I took care of the public pool during the day...which required me to do the typical stuff: remove the leaves (debris) floating in the pool; provide chlorine to clean the pool; I also made sure the pump was operating properly...and I was the life-guard. A job that usually began in the morning as this was when the weather would be sunny and warm.

I was also the game-room-operator. This game room consisted of six pool tables (I believe), a few pinball machines, and this job usually began in the late afternoon. Customers would be required to pay a quarter to use the pool tables. At the close of every business day I would level the tables, replace pool stick(s) tips if needed and clean the felt...plus, count and bag up the proceeds.

When I had free time, I played on the pool tables so I could improve my pool playing skills. I started to believe I was becoming a good pool player. My brother Charlie, while he was stationed in Viet Nam, surprised me by sending me two gifts. One was a cue stick and the other gift was a chess set. I loved playing with this cue stick. Both the cue stick and chess set were so beautiful as they were hand carved in Viet Nam-I believe. Unfortunately though, both of them were destroyed in a fire that took place in my oldest sister's garage in the S.F. Bay Area/Contra Costa County, where they were being temporarily stored.

Being the game room operator at this Russian River resort did provide me my first and only "fight" experience I had in my life. And that fight happened inside this building where the sound of pool balls were constantly banging against each other, and the music playing on the jukebox at the time was most likely the Beatles song "Hey Jude."

Now, I do realize that since that fight took place, there have been at least 100 other guys who wanted to kick my 'ass' too. I think it has a lot to do with my smile. They see my smile and immediately both of their hands turn into fists...it's really a strange phenomena.

Looking back, I am not entirely sure what caused this fight but if my memory serves me right, it had something to do with this guy thinking he could use loud profanity inside this game room/arcade, and then he also believed this crazy notion, which he had heard from some other belligerent people stationed along Sonoma County's River Road, that park management would not call him out for it...in which I did.

One thing led to another and before I knew it four arms were swinging wildly and that the commencement of this craziness was now happening for everyone to see. I slipped on the floor and while I was down, he kicked me in the face and today I am very fortunate I didn't lose an eye and a number of teeth during the duration of this one-round boxing match that ended abruptly when other park personnel rushed over to put a stop to this madness.

The next day, a visitor at this resort asked me what had happened to my face with the many bruises, swollen lip and puffed-up eyes that were staring at him. I told this person that a professional football "field goal kicker" was in town and wanted to show me and many others at this resort the best way to make contact with the football when kicking a field goal in a hurry. Then this professional kicker kindly asked me if he could use my face as the football to demonstrate his talent.

Now, being a guy who has over the years wanted to appease everyone and whenever possible, I told this kicker that my only concern volunteering my face for this unique event, was having him kick out my lower teeth that were located somewhere south of my nose. He told me he could appreciate my concern but he couldn't promise me anything and tried to reassure me that lately his kicks have been consistently straight while sending the football perfectly through the upright.

However, as you can clearly see, he shanked the football, pulled it far to the left of the goalposts and nearly broke my jaw, along with temporarily ruining my vision and has made it almost impossible for me to enjoy meatballs and spaghetti for the next three months.

If I had just a small amount of wisdom at this time in my life, I would have surely turned down the kicking demonstration he provided to me and the others, who were standing round waiting for a little excitement to take place at the boring Rio Nido Resort.

I had tried to join the army in late 1969. I was going to enlist with a high school buddy, Dennis Bruner, and join in the Army's " buddy program" that was available at the time. We took all the necessary steps, at Oakland's enlistment/recruiting center to join. Back in 1969, this facility was located near down-town Oakland. The only requirement the two of us had yet to do was take the "oath." And our taking the oath wasn't going to happen until after December, 1969, which would be weeks after we had completed the required enlistment exams in Oakland.

When my dad found out that I was about to join the Army, with my friend Dennis (friends since we were in the 7th grade), he told me at the Rio Nido resort, that my enlistment with Dennis wasn't going to happen. When I contacted Dennis to let him know my Dad's anger towards me joing the army with him, Dennis would show up at the resort to remind me that we were only one step away from entering the Army and not to let my dad interfer with our plan...and my dad would adamantly tell him to leave and that I wasn't going to join the army with him. A little hidden secret about my parents and Dennis: For the many years I had known Dennis, they did not like Dennis and the reasons I won't waste my time trying to explain it on this page.

My dad, knowing he already had two sons stationed in Viet Nam, wasn't going to see a third son possibly sent there. To make a long story short-I ended up telling Dennis that I could no longer join the army with him and I never heard another word from him while he lived. I had let him down.

NOW THE CRAZY STUFF

Rio Nido-picture, courtesy of the internet

Use GOOGLE EARTH to get a street view of this lodge and you can see areas of the resort that is not captured in the picture above.
Game room and grocery store in 1969 are no longer there.

The crazy stuff that took place in Rio Nido happened during the spring and summer of 1970. It involved the names of six people: Jim & Carmen (married) ; Rocky & Melanie (married); Jessie and Matt.

They were hippies and drug dealers from the Los Angeles area and I was probably the first person that they had befriended at Rio NIDO after renting a large cabin in this resort. They met me in the Hotel lobby while I was playing on a pool table located near the office. They received a perk from me and that perk was that they could play pool with one of the son's of the manager of this resort...me.

While I was only 18, they were much older. Jim and Carmen were in their mid-thirties; Rocky and Melanie were in their late-twenties. Jessie was also in his late-thirties. Matt, Melanie's brother, was around twenty (20), and was currently an active member of the military. Now, Jessie, he was a former psychologist, turned hippie, and he would be considered the leader of this group. Mescaline was his expertise in life and he began each day by being a control freak.

They all lived together in a large cabin that they had rented. This particular cabin was located in Rio Nido's "C" section. This Resort had four sections of cabins identified as "A", "B", "C", and "D". My brother Tom and I stayed in a cabin located in the "B" section...as I recall.

Now, as our friendship developed, they also became friends with my older brother Tom. Tom took a liking to them too. Tom was an intellectual and an easy person for someone to have a friendship with. The two of us would be invited to visit them at their cabin and join in with them in smoking dope (aka you know what).

This hippie group, from LA, met me while I was playing pool inside the Rio Nido Lodge. They were friendly people. Jim and Carmen took a liking to me very quickly as they told me I was one of the first people they met after renting their cabin and I was friendly with them. Jim was a mechanic by trade and knew the engine of a car inside and out. As I remember, they had two children (Eric and Erin). Like I mentioned earlier, the cabin they rented was one of the largest in the resort.

Note: During this time period, the population of hippies living along the Russian River grew exponentially. My dad, who previously had a grocery store account along Telegraph Ave during the 60s, in Berkeley CA, was very familiar with hippies and drugs. If you were on drugs, he would know it by your eyes. If I had taken any drugs in Rio Nido, I made sure I was never in his presence because he could sniff it out...no pun intended.

It should also be noted that the Rio Nido hippies had befriended my brother Tom too, as the two of us were sharing a cabin at the resort. Tom was two years older than me and was a lot more intelligent and sophisticated. He would become known in the family as the famed draft-dodger...of my parents. Now, get this too, he had a photo of himself burning his "military draft card" that was featured in the newspaper at the college he attended in Fremont. How many draft dodgers, from that era, can make a claim like that today?

Tom, knowing that he was wanted for failing to register to the selective service dept., never changed his name to evade the law, and the FBI, who had Tom on their list of draft dodgers to find, could never locate him. Even while Tom had established a life and a family in Boise, Idaho, the FBI still couldn't locate him. Finally, after our Government gave amnesty to all of the draft dodgers during the Viet Nam war, they sent a letter to him saying he was no longer being sought. I guess the FBI stumbled onto address stored away somewhere in DC in order to send him a letter. lol.

SO, were these Hippies dangerous?

Jim and Carmen: No, I never experienced anything from them to make me feel they were dangerous. Jim was the uncle to Melanie and he turned out to be good company. Tom and Jim got along very well too. Jim would invite us over to their C cabin to smoke marijuna and on some occasions take Mescaline. I think the biggest trip we had was when they offered us Angel Dust. We only took that one time and the two us knew after experimenting with this stuff, it was dangerous to take. Tom shared with me that he didn't believe he was ever going to come off of this high. I felt the same way. This drug came on very quickly and when it did you also wanted to come off of this drug quickly.

Rocky and Melanie: Rocky was a true down to Earth hippie and tried to give the impression he was oblivious to what was going on around him. He had long black hair with a beard. He was a huge Beatles fan, which most of us were at this time in 1970. He had a very impressive, large collection of Beatles albums and you didn't dare touch any of his beloved albums. Now, do I believe Rocky was dangerous? I believe he was when he was around Jesse. Now, his wife Melanie, seemed to be kind of a scatterbrain and this may have been due to the amount of drugs she was taking with Rocky.

Jesse: He was the leader of this hippie family from Los Angelis and was a big drug dealer on The River. Jesse and Rockie rented a chicken coop that was converted into a living home, near Bodega Bay, and they would organize a trip there for all of us to go to. So, we went there and stayed at this place for an evening. It was bazaar. We all took psilocybin that evening. A favorite drug of Jesse. My brother Tom, the next morning, told me that he thought he had experienced death during this trip and his personality changed quite a bit after that.

Do I believe Jesse was dangerous? I do believe he was. He got angry very easily. Like I had mentioned earlier about Jessie, he was a former psychologist, nearly 40-years-old, who quit his profession in order to be a hippie and drug dealer. He had semi long hair, blondish and curly...and the females loved him. Plus, he had a huge appetite for sex and it appeared he had an unhealthy preference for young girls that may have been considered sexual molestation. Unless you knew the ages of these young girls, it would be hard to tell...but when you look at the Jeffery Epstein story of today, this Jesse guy had some major problems. I would occasionally see him at the Rio Nido Pee Wee golf course. There were pool tables available for people to play on that was inside of this building...soft drinks and hot dogs were all sold inside this building. I would see him there, and he wasn't aware that I was staring at him from a distance as he was looking at these young girls. He would soon leave that building and that is all I knew about him.

This group of people would get into to these home thereapy sessions-I guess that is what you would call them...and it had Jesse's former profession written all over it. He would keep pushing Matt (Melanie's brother), to be more talkative inside this group therapy meeting and I remember telling Jesse "Why don't you leave Matt alone, he is here on a leave from the military, so why do put so much pressure on him?" Wow, Jesse got up and he screamed at me at the top of his lungs "Frank, get out of here, " as he pointed to the door. I was totally startled by his outburst. I got up off the ground to leave, but suddenly froze and then I boldly told him that I was not leaving, and sat back down. Everyone in that room was really surprised by what I said to Jesse...and even me. He cooled off and shortly thereafter this therapy session ended---really, really weird. Jim mentioned to me a few days later that I was really brave to talk to Jesse that way.

One day I went to visit them inside their cabin, and all of them were sitting in chairs naked. Being only 18, I felt really uncomfortable being around them. Carmen, who was sitting next to her naked husband Jim, boldly asked me "Will you take off all of your clothes?" I told her I couldn't do that and then I left this building. Probably the last time I knew what being modest was...LOL.

During this time period along the Russian River, public nudity was common...

Eventually these people moved out of the C section cabin and moved into another location not too far away from this place. My friendship with them ended pretty much when one of my brothers warned me about Rocky and Jesse, claiming these two guys were dangerous...I really believed this to be true.

I ran into Jim a couple of years later and we talked for awhile. He told me about these women who used to live with them. I remember seeing these women but I didn't know their names and I was never introduced to them. They were kind of mysterious people living at the C section cabin. Jim told me that these women (three of them) were followers of Charles Manson and they had left the Manson family and were now a target of these crazy people...and they were being hidden in this C section cabin. I don't know if this is true...but why would Jim lie to me? But knowing who Jesse was, this story really rang true.

One of Charles Manson's victims were killed in the Guerneville area...Was there any connection? I do not know. There were a lot of weird people living on the Russian River during this time period...most likely there still are...lol

From that time onward, I never felt safe being outside after the sun went down in one of the most beautiful places in Northern CA.

I am not sure if this is the precise location of the Palm Reading business...it's no longer here.

While I lived in the Rio Nido Resort, I would occasionally walk to the town of Guerneville. It's about a two-mile walk. Halfway there is a PALM-READING business situated off the side of a road that is called River Rd. A woman is basically working out of her home and doing her palm-reading service from the comforts of her living room.

So, one day I was walking past her business and she was outside enjoying the sunshine. She spotted me, a young, physically fit guy, and she moseyed on over to her fence to asked me if I would be willing to mow her yard and in return she would provide me a free palm-reading service afterwards.

I told her sure, I will mow your yard. She pointed to the garage and said the push-lawn mower was stored inside over in a corner. Now, the grass was high and it was easy for me to see that this lawn hadn't been mowed in some time. So, I had to put some physical effort into that morning in order to get her lawn mowed...with a push-lawn mower. Knowing I was young, I could get this yard work taken care of, and be of some help to her...as that was my goal.

Now, I really wasn't expecting to actually have my palms read by this woman as I thought I didn't mind helping her out. However, she was adament about reading my palms. Corralling me into her living room, she had me sit in a palm-reading chair at this table where she did her palm reading, etc.

She focused on my palm and the important lines related to my life. I don't remember everything she told me about my future,when thinking about that 1969 experience. In fact, I am not even sure what she told me. I just thought she probably told me the same events would take place in my life like she told everyone else as she peered into their future.

Maybe this palm-reader was everything she claimed to be and the lines she saw on my palm revealed an incredible amount of crazy stuff that would take place in my future but wouldn't reveal it to me because she would have had to start off by saying this to me "you simply can't make this stuff up." And who in their right mind would believe this crazy stuff?

And if she would have said "Young man, by looking at the really important lines on your palm, someday you will be living a mile away from an active volcano that spits lava at you every few months-" she knew she would have lost all credibility with me in her line of work......on that day...LOL

Here is interesting story that connects to this Rio Nido/Guerneville story above:

My wife and I moved to a community located on The Big Island called Volcano. There is a neighbor located a couple of homes over from us. I was being helpful to her sometimes when she went on vacation. I would mow her yard as a way to be neighborly and make her know that her home was secure while she was away.

One day, she invited my wife and I over to her place for a visit. While there she shared with us her interest over the years in things like tarrot card reading, etc. I just thought it was interesting of my story of the palm reader who wanted to provide me with a reading if I mowed her yard, nearly 60 years ago and this more recent story of me assisting a woman with her lawn mowing before I even learned of interest in reading tarrot cards.

I have only met two women in my life who had an interest in reading people lives, whether through reading cards or reading palms and mowing a lawn was a connection to both women...just an interesting tidbit.

U.S. President Theodore Roosevelt said in 1901 "Speak softly and carry a big stick."

In pool I say "Shoot softly and carry a straight stick."

In 1969, I thought I was a good pool player. After the summer ended and the resort was closed until the next summer, I played a lot of pool on the table that was located inside the Lodge. After more than 55 years, I still remember the guy who rented a cabin at the Resort and then befriended me one afternoon while I was shooting pool by myself inside the Lodge. Age wise, I think he was close to being 30-years-old at the time. I never asked him about his age.

He asked me if he could shoot pool with me. I told him sure and he introduced himself to me as being a new tenant at the Rio Nido resort...in which he rented a cabin from my dad. Sadly, I do not remember his name, but what I do remember is that he was an extremely quiet guy and very friendly. Also, he knew that I was the son of the manager of this resort and I had the power to let him play pool free at the Lodge...in fact, I let everyone play free and so I had a lot of friends. LOL

In the first game we played, I saw how well he could shoot pool. Every shot he took convinced me he was somebody I could learn from...to become a much better pool player. After the first game we played, in which he beat me, he shared with me a little knowledge about his past. He told me he had spent time in the San Quentin prison for selling drugs. Being only 18-years-old at the time, I had never met anyone who had spent time in prison.

Now, we all know that in 1969 there wasn't any Internet plugged into our ears, so I couldn't Google AI this important question: How does a person react when somebody tells you they have been in prison for a number of years? I mean, I wasn't sure if there was an official way for me to react to this information. Was I supposed to stoop down and hide behind the table until he could convince he was no longer dangerous? I am not sure I had any reaction as I had considered there were plenty of other ex-cons living in this area. LOL I then I told myself, who cares? Case close.

He came right out and told me I was decent pool player, and if I gave him the time, he could make me a much better and complete player. I didn't object to that idea, so I told him let's play...and I racked up the balls to play our first tuition/free/educational pool game @ URNP. University of Rio Nido Pool.

The important tip like "chalking your cue stick" before each shot I had already learned in my freshman year of shooting pool, long before he came into my life. But the first thing he shared with me about playing pool was the most important thing he shared with me about playing pool: There is no reason to shoot the cue ball hard and that 95% of the shots you take in any game should be shot softly.

You need to control where your cue ball is going and where it will end up after you shoot your current shot so you are basically planning your next shot ahead of time. I watched him apply this same strategy to own shooting. He shot so softly and his aim was precisely on target and so when the cue ball came to a stop he was ready for the next shot he currently had planned out. He could run the table time and time again.

But this was just the beginning of what I learned from him. He wanted me to be able to use "english" in a much more accurate way that would provide me an additional skill to achieve that much sought after complete game of playing pool.

The shot being illustrated below, which required a good dose of english being applied to the cue ball, and then hits hard towards the front left pocket at practically the exact entrance to the right of that pocket...then it veers off to the left, and then the english still has the force behind it, recocheys to the right, and then impressively scoots along the back of the pool table and hits the ball on the right and that ball goes into the pocket...it's a beautiful shot and everything has to be perfect with the amount of english being placed on the cue ball along with the cue ball hitting that exact entrance to corner of that left pocket...for it to be successful. If the shot is inaccurate the cue ball will just end up in that pocket to the left and you end up looking like a fool.

Note: It's been many years since I played a lot of pool in which I used cue-ball-english and so I would need to be playing again in order for me to establish exactly how this english is applied to the left-front- corner-pocket.

I actually made this shot in a game I was playing in-but I was lucky and anyone else making this shot will be lucky too. A humble and quiet guy, who spent time in prison for selling drugs, taught me this shot. If that yellow (1) ball in the upper right corner is the ball you are required to make then this is one way to send the cue ball in a direction that can get it there.

Now, to do this shot above, you have to shoot the cue ball hard but not that hard), in order get the desired result. And the occasion for needing to perform this shot will come very seldom. Also, players who rely on banking their shots are violating the "sure-shot rule."
My favorite shot was any shot being shot into the side pockets. The accuracy needed for this particular
shot is astounding and when making this shot it's impressive to anyone watching it. A shot
that needs to be mostly shot "SOFTLY."

In addition to the shot seen above, he showed me other techniques too like using Massè with the cue ball. I actually learned to do this shot also. It's not as impressive as the shot seen above. The Massè shot requires cue ball english placed at the top, coming somewhat in a down motion to get the spin needed to curve the cull ball around the ball in front of it...to hit that ball you are aiming for.

It's a cute shot but it is not a for-sure shot and I never wanted to use this technique unless absolutely needed to. Your goal is to position your future shots to where needing to use Massè isn't necessary. In fact, this particular shot, if not properly done, will easily place a rip in the table felt.

When I mentioned how hitting the cue ball softly is really important to attain accuracy and the placement of the cue ball afterwards, the "BREAK" shot, at the start of the game is how I learned (not from this guy at the resort), that this is one of the most important shots in regards to being able to the run the table.

When I "broke" at the beginning of the game, I would hit the cue ball with such velocity, that on many occasions, when the cue ball made contact with the pyramid of the racked balls, the cue ball would jump off the table to where it could be dangerous for somebody to be standing nearby. LOL.

The balls inside of the pyramid were scattered to such a degree after the break, that each remaining ball became easy pickens to shoot one after the other and then make running the table so possible. In fact, it wasn't uncommon to see that a hard break like this would pocket two or three balls from the get-go. Sometimes four.

Hard to believe that nearly 50 years ago, back during the late 70s, I would dress up in a corduroy suit, drive from Sacramento to S.F. to shoot pool at a billiards joint located in the area of Van Ness Blvd.

I did play a young guy for money at the S.F. billiards place. I walked into this place and stood around just looking at the people playing pool to determine who were really good players and who weren't. It's easy to tell. I got myself a table to play on by myself and then within minutes this young guy came up to me and wanted to play a game for money. I had seen this young guy playing on a table earlier when I was observing all of the players before I signed up for my own table.

I asked him how much money did he want to play for and he said twenty dollars...I said "ok." He lost the game and when he wanted to hand me the money he owed me, I told him "I don't want your money, I knew I could beat you before we even started playing." Just like the pool shark, at the Rio Nido Lodge who taught me, he knew he could beat me before we even played a game. I left that billiards joint and never returned to S.F. to play again.

I entered only one 9-ball tournament in my life...and I won...but this tournament took place in a Sacramento billiards joint. And actually I was lucky to win this game.

1) Play on a level table-if the table is not level then there is no accuracy with your shooting.

2) Play with a straight cue stick-if your cue stick isn't straight then there is no accuracy in your shooting. Also, cue sticks are weighed in the ounces. Me, I prefer light weight cue sticks in the 17oz range and long enough for my liking when reaching to make shots...it's all a personal preference.

3) Never, ever, break with the cue stick that you plan to use to play your game-which should be your favorite cue stick. The cue stick can crack during your break shot because of how hard you hit that cue ball at the break...so use a cue stick that you use only at the break and find one that is made for that purpose.

4) Play with a cue stick that has chalk on its tip before every shot as a tip with no chalk will cause the cue stick to slip-that's no fun and you look like a fool.

4A) Be sure not to let stick move around between your fingers...have the cue stick firmly positioned in a curled up finger that doesn't allow stick to move around.

5) Shoot the cue ball softly as the result from this will impress you immediately and improve your game.

6) Take only "for-sure" shots as trying to bank a shot is not a sure-shot. Banking a shot should only be done when it is absolutely necessary.

7) If you are the one breaking the pyramid of balls at the beginning of the game, break the balls up so hard so that you can make it easier to run the table after the balls are scattered everywhere.

8) Learn to shoot the cue ball with english applied...as english provides much more movement for the cue ball and this fact will assist you in achieving your objectives in unique ways.

10) Smile and be friendly with everyone. And if somebody today tells you they have spent time in prison...tell them "I know, I have already Googled your name, along with the eight aliases you use, seen what bunk-bed you slept in for 10 years and I know the name of the Warden who pardoned you. Now, It's your shot."

Also, don't drink alcohol while playing pool and if you like eating cotton candy, don't eat it while you're playing pool.

all of the above is just a rambling.

Now, this "so let me get this straight" heading has nothing to do with straight cue sticks, pool tables or paroled felons. This is about the confusion my parents created for me nearly 60-years-ago...and this is something that I haven't spent much time trying to analyze.

However, why shouldn't I spend the time now to analyze and investigate this because I need to face this reality too: From this moment going forward, and based on my family's history, I could drop dead from a heart attack any time now-in fact, I am currently living on borrowed time & who cares about this nonsense anyways as this and everything else about life is really so absurd and as the good book says "all is vanity."

In May of 1969, the High School I was about to graduate from in Fremont CA, offered me a scholarship to attend a business college in the S.F. Bay Area. My mom pooh-poohed the idea and my dad backed her up in this lackadaisical attitude to this special honor I was about to receive...in which I didn't receive. He even added his opinion that business colleges aren't very good and attending college was going to be...probably... a waste of my time.

They spent no time chewing on the idea that I was their first and only child to be offered a scholarship for anything while attending school...I mean, I really applied myself in the business courses I took at that God forsaken high school called Irvington High. However, It would amazed anyone today to see the kinds of "business machines" that were being used during that era and how quickly these machines became obsolete a decade or more later.

After I graduated from H.S. in June of 1969, my mom and dad moved to Rio Nido, CA, along the Russian River, so my dad could have a more relaxed life (yeah right), while managing a small grocery store (somewhat of a small store), at this resort. Rio Nido was a popular Sonoma County tourist town in close proximity to other neat places to visit along River Road on Highway 16. Within a short amount of time you could be enjoying a nice lunch at Jenner (aka Jenner-by-the-sea), Bodega Bay or even further up north to visit his old stomping grounds located in the town of Point Arena.

Now, getting back to me, I went to visit my best friend Dennis Bruner who lived in Concord, CA...as I really didn't want my parents life along the Russian River...as I had just discovered before graduating from HS, that they really didn't want my life.

So, there I was, living my life after HS with an old buddy from my past and we started doing everything we used to do when we hung out together: That is-get in trouble. And Dennis was a buddy of mine whom my parents did not like...as they thought Dennis was a bad influence on me-which is possible.

However, when my parents moved from Concord to Fremont and I was no longer on Bruner's short list of friends, I started to take my education seriously as I couldn't believe how easy taking exams would be when I actually studied for the test. STUDY + EXAMS = GOOD GRADES

Things were different in the summer of 1969. Dennis seemed to have matured a lot since the last time I saw him a few years earlier. And he appeared to me to have his '�HIT' together after I met up with him...after he graduated from HS in Concord. From that time on we did a lot of hitchhiking together.

While we polished up our hitchhiking thumbs, we soon ended up in Santa Cruz, CA. While being there, we found ourselves moving casually along the Boardwalk, where we would panhandle money for our beer (beer if there was somebody willing to buy us some), and then we would catch crabs (he caught by using dairy baskets), for our evening dinner to steam on the beach. Dennis could catch anything. He could make a fishing pole with just a string and a stick and catch a fish with a worm hanging from a homemade hook...this guy was a modern day Davie Crockett and the females just loved him.

Looking back at this time, Santa Cruz in its own way, was just another version of the Rio Nido Resort. But Dennis had a history with Santa Cruz as his family spent summer vacations there where he learned to surf, get tanned, show off his muscles and his sculpted physique. Plus, Santa Cruz had ocean waves, beachboy blond looking girls with an endless supply of crabs to easily steam on the beach.

When I think of Rid Nido and that guy who wasted no time in planting one of his feet into the center of my young virgin face, while inside that game room, may have topped all of my other memories while being there in the midst of Northern California's awesome redwood trees. A guy's "size 11" shoe, that just happened to be conveniently clinging to his right foot, and on a brief mission to make contact with the sensitive nerves in my upper jaw...incredibly, this memory followed me for the rest of my life.

The last chapter of my friendship with Bruner is the memory of my dad telling him that I would not--repeat--I would not join the army with him in December of 1969. Now, at that same time my dad was kind of stowing me away from Dennis inside of his family size cabin in Rio Nido...so that when Dennis showed up at the resort, he wouldn't know that I was inside my dad's house and Dennis wouldn't have any ability to persude me to leave the resort with him.

I know this story is hard to believe...but what follows next is even harder to believe:

Yeah, so there I was in a deep sleep, being hiden inside the living room of my parents place...because my dad wants to make sure that I don't leave the resort with Bruner who keeps on coming back to the resort to convince me to join the army with him as our trip to Washington State to take the oath of our enlistment/service is scheduled to take place soon.

...and get this: I just happened to wake up to this commotion taking place with an unknown person in the living room where I was sleeping. Who was the mysterious person with a large blanket covering themself up?

I hear police cars outside and a police officer shows up at the top floor of my parents place, to take this person covered up in a blanket, down to the bottom of the stairs of this house to question this person. And here is the crazy stuff that I eventually learned about this this person that showed up at my parents place after midnight:

While I was in a dead sleep, my dad is awakened to a loud banging on the front door. He must have thought it was my buddy Dennis, however, it wasn't and it turned out to be a completely naked woman screaming for help. As with any man, who is planning on saving a suppermarket chain from going bankrupt in a few years, he provided this naked woman with a much needed blanket to cover up.

I am probably less than 10ft away from this craziness and I am still asleep and unbelievably I just don't wake up. Please understand, but at this time in my life I am a very deep sleeper and it always required a lot of noise for me to wake up or at least required one nearby naked women in order for me to wake up.

However, noise + a lot more noise inside my parents living room, finally entered into the master bedroom of my brain so that the neon light button for reality was automatically pressed...and then this creepy show with unfamiliar and uncredited actresses just appeared in front of my eyes in this X-rated movie.

Here is a synopis of this x-rated movie:

This naked woman was living with another woman and together were renting a cabin from my dad.

These two women apparently were lovers.

Then for a couple of days one woman tied up the other woman while she was naked and was doing these creepy things to her and saying she was going to kill her. (Maybe the female version of some sensational murder story like Jeffrey Dahmer).

Finally after two days of being tied up, luckily this woman was able to escape and then ran to the manager of this resort aka my dad.

Manager of Rio Nido calls police and police come to the resort to file report and make an arrest of one of the women.

The victim, who is still covered with a blanket, is standing close to the police car where the accused is sitting in the back seat. The accused woman, sitting in the police car, lip syncs a worded message to the victim "I am going to kill you when I come back." To be fair, these threatening words from this arrested woman sitting in the police car could have easily been lyrics that she may have heard earlier in the day from a recent song by The Doors had released during that time period...but I doubt it.

Police drive off with the accused in the back seat and head to Santa Rosa. I don't believe the arrested woman ever came back to the Rio Nido Resort.

I actually witnessed this crazy stuff taking place along with the quiet threat the woman in the police car said to the victim.

A couple of days later I saw the victim strolling around the resort and I went over to her and asked her about her situation with this other woman. She says nothing to me, walks away and that becomes the END OF THE STORY. Looking at this story today, I see my first wife playing the dominant female role in this lesbian story if this were to ever become a movie.

I don't know which one of the two stories is crazier as both were happening at the same time: This woman being forced to stay in this cabin by another woman or me, being hidden inside my dad's place to keep me from my friend Dennis who keeps showing up at the RIO NIDO RESORT asking him where FRANK is because the two of them are taking the oath soon to become buddies in the U.S. Army? Dennis just couldn't understand my dad when he stated "I have two sons already in Viet Nam and I am not sending another one there."

I was given an opportunity to receive a scholarship and both my mom and dad pooh-poohed the idea.

I was going to join the military with a school buddy and my dad went nuts trying to prevent this.

Eventually I found myself hitchhiking across America with no direction in my life, without a dime to my name and wondering why I was still alive, along with being mentally crippled for the entire world to see...and thinking how that pool-room fight at the RIO NIDO RESORT could have ended differently had I not slipped on the floor.

And I totally believe it was unfair for my mom to tell me not too long before she died "Frank, you were an embarrassment to the family." However, I look at that statement as the icing on the cake.

So, let me get this straight...the best things that happened to me in my life happened after I mowed the tall grass that was situated to the side of a woman's palm reading business located on River Road in a place called Midway that was halfway between Rio Nido and Guerneville, CA. I appreciated the fact that she read my palm/lines/dirty-finger-nails as a way to pay me...however, why did she keep the craziest and creepiest stuff about my future hidden from me as she must have clearly seen it all taking place?