Newport

I grew up in southern California where sunshine, salty eyelashes from ocean swimming, and yearlong tans are the norm. I grew up across the street from the beach, but then later moved to a very family-friendly city because my mother was pregnant with kid number three. Apparently, a tract home meant stability in the 1970's. I was 5 and a half years old when we moved. We only moved 12 miles inland, but at the time it felt like 50 miles.

I never stopped missing our cozy brick beach apartment. My mom used to brush my wet hair next to this little fireplace before preschool. The fireplace was tucked into a wall, in the kitchen. It was a micro fireplace that was arched on top. It looked a little like a pizza oven. It was put there for a little girl to grow fond of, to be forever remembered. I had a kitchen fireplace, and lived across the street from a giant sandbox bordered by the ocean on one side. What more did a child need?

When I was three years old my mother asked me while a tape recorder recorded us, "Out of everywhere in the world you've ever been, which is your favorite place to go?" Thinking I would say something like, "Disneyland!" Without hesitating I had said in my bubbly kid voice, "The pizza Place." I had meant Zinos Pizza, on the peninsula. I liked it because of the sign. Each letter had a different colored dot behind it. Not unlike the mat used in the game of Twister. Funny, what kids like. Interesting what makes it into the old memory bank. That pizza place is long gone, but I can still see the sign in my mind. I wish there were such a thing as a time machine.