Flying Away

Joey GarzaPer.2

1/24/11Gerber

Dedication

Dedicated to all the fellow Joes.

Table of Contents

1.) My Name2.)Nails (Hairs)3.) Extended metaphor4.) Jammed Fingers5.) Brothers6.) The Neighborhood 7.) Hockey Trips8.)Indoor Baseball9.)Morning Walks 10.) Long Nights, Deep Thoughts11.)Sirens and Santa Clause

My NameMy full name is Joseph Christopher Garza. I have as many namesakes as the Declaration has signers. I was named after

my grandpa Jose Carlos Garza who went by Joe, my mom’s dad Edward Joseph Creede, my great grandpa Joseph

Patrick Creede, and my godfather Uncle Joe. In the Garza family every first born male has the initials J.C.G. This

tradition has been around since Moses. The tradition, though, got out of hand.. There three Joes in the family. There is

me and my two cousins. On my moms side they decided they will join in. There are five Joes. My uncle, his son, a girl

Joie, me, and not to be left out one of my cousins name there dog Joey. So at a family party if someone calls Joe, four

people and a dog show up.

My last name in Spanish means heron. Herons are massive, majestic birds. I like the herons because they are free to

where ever they like, just soar wherever. Sometimes I wish I could be like a heron go wherever I like not having to listen

or do anything. Whenever we see a heron we all get excited. That symbolizes us, our family. We rarely ever see one but

when we do we all take pictures and stop and stare like little kids in awe. I love my name, not embarrassed, or timid to

share it. I would not ever want to change it. I take great pride in my name and always will have pride in it .

Nails

• In my family we each have different nails. My sisters are constantly changing. Every week it’s a different color almost never the

same. Sometimes they have designs and match the holidays when they are near. My dads are short and tough. They are always

clean and organized though. Always short never long. Mine are unorganized, messy, and have always have dirt in them. When I

do trim them they are uneven and are uneven. My moms are perfect. Every nail is even and have the same exact length. Each one

come to a perfect point. Never dirty and always very clean. Almost never painted but when they are, it is a very vivid red.

Perfectly painted smooth and even.

• My nails are a boys nails. I constantly have dirt from being outside all day every day. Those white spot never going away,

which isn’t bad because hopefully that is girls thinking about me. Or my sister says I do not drink enough milk. I like the girls

thinking about me better though. When I attempt to trim them they come out all crooked and uneven. They look forgotten and not

card about.

When ever I see my mom’s nails I remember when I was really young her rubbing my back and singing. Her gentle voice and

her nails slowly tickling my back like a spider crawling up a web. This putting me to sleep almost immediately and curing my

sickness. Remembering that it was just me her and her singing and her perfect nails.

Jammed Fingers

• When I first started playing baseball my dad and I would play catch almost every day. Me and my first tiny glove which I still

have, and always will have. Playing catch dropping almost every ball. But when I do catch I looking at it as if were a diamond.

Sometimes catching it came with a price though. The ball sometimes would land right in that one spot and would sting my

whole hand. Other times I try to keep it in there with the other hand jamming almost all my fingers. Trying to hold back the

tears so we can keep playing. Keep going and going. The c’mon Joe, or catch the ball Joe with that frustrated voice made me feel

like I was shot with bullets. Every time making me stronger and better. Every outing the throws getting better and more catches.

• This playing catch made me the player who I am today in any sport. Fighting through injuries toughing situations out. Those

days never leaving my memory. I owe my baseball career to my dad. Him forcing me into a better player. In third grade I almost

quit baseball but he made me play and that was one of the best things he did. If was not for that I would of not made all stars or

won a championship. Now that I am on the high school team I am part of the El Segundo baseball legacy. But every time I hear

the smack of the ball hitting the glove I remember those fall days playing catch in the front yard with my dad.

Brothers

• I like your hair was the first thing I said to him. That was back when he had extremely long hair. It was in teddy I still

remember exactly. He had five enormous spikes that were blue. That was the beginning of our relationship. We were

always together, inseparable. We even had our own language. We are like brothers fight like brothers make fun of each

other like brothers getting each other’s back. My mom even calls him her second son. If you bother one, expect to get two

back. In elementary school our first grade teacher made the biggest mistake of putting us together. We never stopped

talking. Us sitting together didn’t even last a full day. Out during recess was where we caused the most mischievous.

When we played soccer we would start brawls on the field. We were the best out there so they would go for us. Whenever

one of us was taking out the other was close to fight back.

• I am going to Costa. Was what he said which made the feel like it was our last. He decided to go to Costa over El

Segundo. This was the worst. What was I going to do with out my best friend, my brother. So for the summer we spent

everyday together. Savoring every minute. We did stupid stuff that well never forget just for that reason, so we won’t forget

that summer. We still hang out on the weekends but, it’s not the same. Days at school aren’t as fun without out him. Then

one day he says he’s going to comeback. The brothers united once again.

The Neighborhood• There are seventeen kids on the block. That’s just the block. Up the street there are at least ten more kids. This was a struck of luck of me. During

summer there was no such thing as a boring day. In fact there weren’t enough hours in the day for us. We would always be doing something till it

was so dark we couldn’t see. Even then we would try to play night games. An average day was baseball in the backyard of the Judges playing till dark

or until we ran out of tennis balls. Tennis balls were like gold. We would do anything to get the tennis balls back. One time I hit a home run two

yards over. I had climb up wall. Then walk across the skinny wall. The thought of falling, is the feeling you get before your sick. Almost there step by

step and then I see it. Climb down and casual walking to get it and then the dog appears. It felt like I belonged in the Sandlot. I grab the ball and run

as fast as I can and dog sprints after me. I get to the top of right before he gets there. I had to make another visit there, but this time there was a bee

hive. That time I didn’t get the ball. Those days were full of excitement and wonderment.

• Fourth of July was our Olympics. We play baseball, hockey, and basketball. This was the day we would perform the best. Then when it became

dark we would light fireworks and watch in awe. Then when the big firework show would come one we would play under the lights like the big

leagues.

• Other times it was the neighborhood hockey game. Everybody joining in. We’d use trash cans, then we finally got nets. During these games all the

parents were lounging on the porch sipping their wine and laughing at our silliness. Sometimes it would be until nine at nine using the street lights to

light up the game. Pretending we are in the pros and the crowd going wild chanting our names. Then when night did come we would camp out in

the back yard and watch all the Lord of The Rings movies and finally go to sleep at five. Awaiting tomorrows excitement.

Sirens and Santa Clause

Hockey Trips

In hockey I have to travel all over. Sometimes it is San Diego, other times Bakersfield. These trips were usually just my mom and me.

These long trips sometimes get dangerous. There were several times when we were in dangerous situations. An example was had to

getting up at the crack of dawn to go to Riverside. On the beginning of our trip we experienced blinding sun, then there was fog that

seemed straight out of a movie. This fog was so thick, I couldn’t even see more than 20 feet in front the car. The car was moving as

slow as a snail, barely moving. Finally it starts to clear up and we could move somewhat fast. Finally we made it to the rink. Other

times it was torrential rain, and other times it was hail. No matter what though we would tough it out and get through it.

During these trips we would talk about anything and everything. Sometimes she would tell stories about when I was little. Other

times it could be the weather, or her explaining things to me. My favorite though is her stories about her past years being a teacher or

from when she was a kid. These stories were better than any book or movie to me. The way she would describe them and the sound

of the excitement. Even if she already told the story to me I did not mind if I already heard five times. Sometimes the stories sounded

more entertaining to me than playing in the game. Every time I get into the car for a road trip I wonder what the conversation is going

to be about this time.

Indoor Baseball

My grandma and I would spend almost every day during the week while my parents were at work. These days were action

packed. Usaully starting off with baseball in the living room. In the living room there was this big picture hanging. It would get hit at

least 4 times as if it were a target. I would use this tiny wood bat that had in vibrant blue print TEE-BALL. Every day we would play

and home plate was the fire place. Before every pitch I would hit the plate three times thinking that would give the bat magic. I still

do this today, just in case. Then after baseball it would be soccer time. I would put my sandals on because tying my shoes was

rocket science to me. I would run out there in my sandals with my tiny green and purple ball. Wearing sandals was not a good idea,

every kick my toes were crushed. So soccer did not last long. After was lunch. Everyday I would have the same thing, I do not know

why I would have it but I did. It was turkey, cheese, with mustard and ketchup. I have no clue why I would have ketchup with it. I

would always have it. If we were ever out of anything I would have a peanut butter and jelly sandwhich, except with no jelly. Then

after that I would play hockey for awhile, then shortly after I would fall asleep waiting for my mom to come home. When I would

wake up I would always have apples with peanut butter or saltine crackers with peanut butter. By the time I would finish them my

mom would be home.

Morning Walks

Same routine every morning. Get up, breakfast, brush my teeth get dressed and the take the dog for a walk. These walks

were bitter sweet. I wouldn’t want to go out but they gave me time to think. Start of going up the block stepping the same

metal circle in the ground for good look. Walking seeing all the neighbors. Walking past all the high school kids looking as

gloomy as the sky on a rainy day. Walking and waving to the people I know driving. Some days the streets empty and all you

can are wind chimes making that sweet sound. These days gave the morning a spooky feeling. Turning onto Marlyland Street.

Walking slowly with the dog at my heels. People staring at him his massive body and jolly smile.

While on the walk gave me time to think of anything. Did I do all my homework? What do I have today? I also wondering

where am I going to end up in the future. What I am I going to do? Thinking these questions on every walk. What is going to

happen in the future? Sometimes I think what I want to do and then the next day it will change completely. Then thinking it

must be easy to be a dog. No worries, just eat sleep and relax. Then wondering weird and random things like what if dogs

could speak. These walks gave time for my thoughts to wander and keep going, and escape the feeling of rush in the morning.

Long Nights, Deep Thoughts

The night when my friends and I sleep over at one of our houses is when these deep conversations occur. These nights are

never a disappointment. It is just like any other time boys hang out. We go play football or basketball as . Then we come back

watch a movie or play some games. Finally at around one we decide we should start thinking about sleep. We get all our

blankets and pillows set up. We finally lay down and for ten minutes we try to fall asleep, but there is no point. Then we just

talk about anything. What we have tomorrow, seeing if we could hang out again tomorrow. Then we get into arguing about

sports teams whose better and who is the best. Then school comes into the subject and we talk about how we can’t wait for

college. Then the question what is going to happen to us. What jobs are we going to have? Usually I am the one that says, I

don’t care as long as I make so much money that I don’t know what to do with it. So I have no worries and can get everything

my family wants and acquire a happy family. That starts the conversation about what we want our lives to be. Where we would

go. Thinking to where we could fly away to and if we would come back. Most saying they want to leave. But, me I think I want

to fly away. Then I think I love it here and decide that I will fly away to different places, only to return later to what I love.

Back Cover

Joey Garza resides in El Segundo with his loving family and two dogs.