California REALITY – Day 3 – Ventura, Part Three – A Room With A View

Cindy enjoys coffee – a lot. As do I, so we stopped in her favorite brew house, Palermo, for a couple of medium cups of joe, and she wandered through the shop with me, pointing out the various other items for sale: trinkets and candles and books and stationery. I was immediately struck by the friendliness of the staff (Cindy’s a regular, so I’m sure that added to their cheerfulness), and I was welcomed to Ventura by them as Cindy introduced me. She showed me the recent arrival of “Rubicon Java Jackets” for Palermo’s coffee cups; this iteration touted the upcoming Rubicon Family Christmas Show…and we then walked up and down the main strip, as she pointed out bookstores and clubs, pubs and thrift shops, banks and marketplaces. Each side street has its share of hidden gems tucked into alleyways or alcoves, or visibly awaiting patrons with café tables and chairs. Ventura is a very walkable town, and, like Laguna, sees its fair share of population increases as the tourist season arrives each summer.
We loaded up in her Jeep Cherokee and hit some of the other key areas: Harbor Bay, Ventura Pier, Plaza Park, the Post Office (soon to be my best friend; Rubicon does a LOT of mailings), and Pierpont Boulevard, where sailboats await myriad voyages as they sleep in the marina. These various must-sees helped us bide our time to the crux of all appointments for the day: a visit to 2010 Sunset Drive – an apartment lead.
There is something to be said for timing. This entire experience thus far had been a series of coincidences, happenstances, happy accidents, and sheer timing. Seeking out housing in Ventura was one such experience.
We got lost. Well, not lost so much as out of synch. Cindy, mind you, is still in trial by fire mode, and while she had a sense of where we were going, she berated herself for not getting full fledged Mapquest directions. Still, it was interesting to climb the sloped hills of Ventura as we veered up and down many a side street observing the differing housing options. When one particular curving road put us practically back where we started, Cindy called for guidance. A few moments later, we were roaming past Ventura High School where skateboarders and poseurs abound, and then went up a steep hill; at its apex: Sunset Drive, onto which we turned left. Three houses down, there it was. I gasped.
2010 Sunset Drive sits atop one of the higher crests in Ventura. As we pulled into the driveway, I took in the breathtaking view ahead of the Pacific Ocean, Channel Islands and the soon to be setting sun. I turned to Cindy as she parked and said, “Are you kidding me?” She smiled and shrugged, then tucked our cigarettes away (NO apartment in Ventura allows smoking; a small price to pay). We approached the door and Cindy rang the bell…a moment, and then…she rang again. Behind the frosted glass a figure emerged. The door clicked.
Enter Doris.
Doris Cowart. Late 60s, short cropped white hair, very suntanned, wearing petal pushers and tennis shoes, and a flowing silk shirt with an Asian motif embroidered all about. She immediately struck me as a retired Mary Martin after one too many runs of Peter Pan, as she embraced Cindy and then grabbed my hand and did the same, pulling me into her entrance hall, where I noted we were not alone. Doris’ twenty-some-odd granddaughter was nearby in the entrance, looking somewhat spritely in her mini-sundress as her doe eyes caught mine. She smiled eagerly.
The dialog and banter and welcomes and kibitzing and such went so quickly, it was hard to keep up. Doris just GOES. (There’s an Auntie Mame quality to her that now, in hindsight, I realize I was immediately connected to; this is a woman who LIVES.) She strode past us, telling us to follow along as she headed around the driveway, down a series of stone steps on the side of the house, down to the lower back yard and then to the left along a pebble pathway…her granddaughter caught up quickly, as keeper of the keys, and opened the door to the “apartment” for rent.
“Apartment” is really an understatement. This was clearly a family room at one time, a large open area with brick fireplace and television, multiple bookshelves (which, as an avid reader, immediately caught my eye) – and – it was fully furnished: Desk and business chair, brown leather sofa, loveseat and easy chair set, rugs and coffee table, and a second (albeit outdated) 50s elongated couch. Also included as Doris and granddaughter meandered along: kitchenette and fridge, full bath with double sink; in the master bedroom: a queen-size tempurpedic bed with nightstands, a double closet and wardrobe dresser…not to mention the guest bedroom with a pair of twin beds. Oh. And did I mention the craft closet with gift wrapping station?
The tour continued along the remainder of the pebble pathway, past two lemon trees and a tangerello tree, as we made our way to the garage, where laundry facilities, too, were included. Back in the former family room/now apartment, we all sat down and chatted.
Doris lost her husband last July, and this is an attempt at supplemental income; I also learned that she is an avid volunteer for Rubicon (in the Development Department in which I’ll manage); her granddaughter’s presence was merely a protective measure to insure she was not going to be preyed upon (understandably), and while their “standard lease” (a downloadable copy) was in front of me, there was “no rush.” I perused the lease as Doris recounted countless stories of love and good times “in this room” and I felt honored to have been invited into its quarters. I was grateful to have secured my license in Real Estate two years ago, and everything appeared to be in order. Doris sat next to me, and we connected momentarily as she stated that she was simply ready to welcome a new chapter into her own life, and was I any good with landscaping. I assured her I would do my best, and there with the triple goddess watching over me, granddaughter, Cindy and Doris (Maiden, Mother, and Crone)…I said to myself, “Patrick you’d be a fool right now not to seize the moment.” We agreed to sign the lease. As we did so, the sun cast its last rays into the room before it sank into the Channel Islands; I was now a full fledged resident of Sunset Drive.
With some resistance on behalf of the sloped driveway, Cindy’s Cherokee revved back onto the road, and we waved farewell to Doris.
But not before she’d plucked a pair of ripened lemons for us to take on our continuing journey.

Next Up: California REALITY – Day 3 – Ventura Makes Way to LA “Weakly”