Timeless Spirituality
Timeless Spirituality, hosted by Daniel "The Past Life Regressionist," is a captivating podcast that explores the depths of spirituality and its connection to time. Join Daniel and his guests as they delve into past life regression, astrology, and the timeless essence of existence. With occasional humorous moments, this podcast offers profound insights, making it a unique blend of enlightening entertainment. Tune in to connect with your inner self and uncover the totality of who you are and who you've been throughout time.
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Website: thepastliferegressionist.com
Timeless Spirituality
Ep. 93 - The Mirror of Time VI: Sweetness (Solo)
Part two of five
The Mirror of Time V: Vagabond
The Mirror of Time VI: Sweetness
The Mirror of Time VII: Metamorphosis
The Mirror of Time VIII: Generations
The Mirror of Time IX: Home
The narrative continues by exploring the various homes that shaped Daniel's teenage and early adult years. We touch on the joys and challenges of childhood, college, and milestone birthdays, capturing the essence of these formative times.
In the final chapters, Daniel shares personal stories that define the meaning of home— and the anxiety of report cards. He recalls cherished memories at Ava's Yogurt, where an unexpected friendship began in February 2020, and a nostalgic remodel brought comfort from the familiar. As you listen, you'll explore the connections and moments that shape our lives, offering a reflection on what it means to truly belong.
Part 2. Sweetness, chapter 12. September 2022. The final lunch. It was around this time when construction commenced on my mom's new house, but it was still months away from being completed, even though the original move-in date was supposed to be in late December. But you know how it is with people and being on time they're not. Anyways, I'll hit the deets quickly and get to the meat of this one ASAP.
Speaker 1:My mom needed me to take her in for a routine oral surgery. She was the first scheduled patient, yet somehow the oral surgeon still commenced the surgery over two hours after it was set to begin. Why do people suck with time? And while my mom was in surgery, one of the nurses gave me a list of the things my mom would need from the pharmacy and grocery store before I took her home. Now, you think they would have sent that shit out ahead of time home. Now, you think they would have sent that shit out ahead of time. And that's the look that I gave to the nurse when she handed me that list.
Speaker 1:Anyways, I quickly went to the pharmacy downstairs and naturally, they didn't have everything my mom needed. So I went back upstairs to bring my mom back down to the car, took my mom back to her house and got her settled in. Then I went to the pharmacy near my mom's house to get the remaining items, then went to the grocery store to get her soft foods and liquids. Then I left the grocery store and went to the deli down the street, one I'd picked up food from many times before for my weekly dinners with my mom, but being in the parking lot of the deli around that time felt a little eerie. The sun was in a different place than I was used to for this location. It's kind of like when you're a kid and you're home sick from school and you look outside but you can tell something's off because you're only used to seeing the sunlight at your house the moment you arrive home from school. I mean, I know the calendar is just a human construct, but the days all have a feeling. So even the weekend sun seemed to be exempt from the feeling of being out of place. Well, I mean, at least that's the way it felt for me.
Speaker 1:Anyways, after I brought the soft foods and painkillers to my mom, I went to the kitchen to have my sandwich, but the walk from her into the kitchen was longer than I ever remember it being, and even longer than I remember it being, when I was a kid and walking with shorter legs, and I believe it felt longer because, inherently, I was doing my best to savor every single moment, as I truly felt this was the last time I'd be having lunch in my childhood home, so once I entered the kitchen, I opened all the south-facing plantation shutters, as I loved the way the sunlight hit the street in the early afternoon. There were four chairs at the table and, of course, I had my spot, the one I'd sat in for over 30 years. Now, I'm not generally one to take my time eating, but that afternoon was different. I nibbled on my turkey sandwich and I stirred my sweet potato fries in the ranch dressing, and this was all while my gaze was fixed out the window, transversing the years I'd spent growing up on the cul-de-sac. It may have been 2022, yet I witnessed elementary and middle school children walking by in their baggy 90s clothes. I saw the palm trees across the street finding their freshly planted home in the ground. Then I watched them grow up up and away at least 30 feet, and, with the sunlight still out, I witnessed the sky growing tonight as I watched decades of children walking by in their Halloween costumes. Then I saw the sky turn back to day, in the mailbox I crashed into when I was six, right after I learned how to ride a bike. Then it was gone, replaced by a newer one. I held back the tears as I felt it would be ridiculous to cry over a turkey sandwich and memories that would never leave my mind. And then I finished my sandwich.
Speaker 1:Chapter 13. May 2002. The Balcony. If my memory serves me correct, it was early May of 2002, and that's when my dad and I moved into a new house as our family was about to grow. As we were adding two, a stepmom and a stepsister.
Speaker 1:I met my stepmom, linda, back in the fall of 2000. Well, she wasn't my stepmother yet, but you know what I mean. Anyways, I instantly took a liking to her, as I felt she understood me in a way that my parents didn't. It's not that they weren't capable, it's just that Linda was an emotional fixer, as she had the ability to see beneath the surface, and I was a sad child and a sad teenager, and she could sense that within our first meeting, and I'm just super happy that she had the courage to say something about it to my dad, as they hadn't been dating that long. At that point, and without sounding too morbid, I feel that Linda came into my life right at the perfect time. It's not that I had an active plan to hurt myself, but I was deep in the space of thinking and feeling that life would be better if I simply wasn't around. And then the tide started to shift a bit once Linda came into our lives. So, needless to say, when my dad told me they were getting married, I was thrilled, and even more than that, linda got along really well with my mom, so they both made it an easy transition for me. Lucky I am, as Yoda would say.
Speaker 1:So back to the house. I was a few days away from turning 16. I had a bathroom in my room and a door leading to a balcony which faced the street. Pretty cool, right? My dad and Linda got married about a month and a half later, and I bleached my hair the day after their wedding. Bleach my hair, you ask. Well, eminem's album, the Eminem Show, had just been released a few weeks before. That's it. End of entry, chapter 14. Summer 2010.
Speaker 1:Moving on, mostly everyone my age had moved on to the next phase of their lives, the post-college years. I was 24, struggling with my health and trying to make my way in the world as a songwriter. I still liked the house I was living in, but my roommates had moved out and new guys had moved in. There was nothing left in that area for me. So it was time for me to go back towards my old stomping grounds, about two miles away from my old apartment and another three miles or so from my childhood home. But when I left that house I didn't experience much dwelling separation anxiety. I mean, it wasn't too hard for me to move out of that place because the guys who were now living there let me keep some of my stuff in storage in the garage. So I knew the day would come when I'd have to come back, and that day was a year to the day later to come back, and that day was a year to the day later. And, yes, it was sad for me to say goodbye to that house, even though I had already moved on. And in the years since moving out I've driven past that house at least half a dozen times and every time I do, all the memories come rushing back at the speed of light. All of them, the good, the bad and everything in between. Alright, where were we?
Speaker 1:So within a day or two of moving into my new apartment, I realized I made a mistake. Not only was the facade of this building deceiving behind the ineptitude of management, but I also did a real shit job of vetting my roommate Good guy, just not a good roommate. I really dreaded every day I had to live in that place, but something good did come out of living there. I promised myself that I'd never again be haphazard when it came to selecting who I'd live with, and I'm proud to say that as I write this piece nearly 13 years later, I've been blessed to live with amazing people ever since.
Speaker 1:But something peculiar happened to me when I moved out of that shitty apartment a year later. Here. I was so excited for my new living situation. My best friend and I were moving into a place that was light years beyond the destitute of that wood, plaster and linoleum-esque brick I'd been living in. But I found myself really sad to leave. We moved into the new place on July 26th, so I still had a few days to clean up the old place before I was set to turn the keys over on August 1st. Those final days in July were great. Yet I was sad to leave this place that I despised. It left me so perplexed. Why was it so hard for me to leave and so hard for me to let go?
Speaker 1:Chapter 15. Late 1990, early 1991. But who's going to wrestle with me? It was in the evening my mom and I were at my first house. Little Daniel was so confused. He didn't know much, but he knew he had a mommy and a daddy. But where was daddy? My mom sat me down on her bed and explained to me that my dad wasn't going to be living with us anymore. I began to cry as she gave me the whole divorce spiel. But I was left with only one question If daddy isn't going to live with us anymore, who's going to wrestle with me? My mom said that she would, but I wasn't a fucking fool. So I replied with the unfiltered mouth of a four-year-old. It's not the same, but I wasn't like most children who are a product of divorce. My parents got along really well and they always had a unified front and to this day, over 30 years later, they're still a part of each other's respective families.
Speaker 1:Anyways, back to the dwelling. My mom and I remained in that house for a few months while she found a rental and my dad was across town sleeping on a rollaway at my grandma's. I stayed there with him once a week and he gave me the bed while he slept on the floor and now is probably the appropriate time to mention I have the best parents in the world. So after my mom found a rental house, my dad moved back into my first house, where he stayed for another few months until the house was sold and he found a new place. My first house was 40-some years old by the time I was born and to this day I still drive past it from time to time. The aesthetic of the old neighborhood looks a little different now, as many of the old houses have been torn down and rebuilt in a more contemporary fashion, but not my first house. It still looks the same.
Speaker 1:Chapter 16. The Tremor, june 28th 1991. I can't remember exactly what time I woke up that day, but it must have been sometime before 7.43am. Now let me explain how I came to that conclusion. My mom and I were getting ready to move into that new rental house. The keys were to be hers on July 1st. Most of my stuff had already been packed up. So that morning morning I laid on the living room floor to play with some of the figurines that had been left out to keep me occupied. And since I was laying on the floor, it put me that much closer to ground level. And that's the first time I remember feeling the ground move beneath me. Remember feeling the ground move beneath me.
Speaker 1:The Sierra Madre earthquake struck at 7.43 am and 55 seconds Now. It wasn't a particularly strong earthquake compared to something like the Northridge earthquake three years later, but we were close enough to the epicenter to feel it. And without saying too much, I'll just say that in the family I'm the one who keeps a level head in intense situations. But admittedly, I was a little frightened because I didn't understand what was going on. But I was kept company by the china that was out of the cabinets and dancing on the tables next to the clinking and clacking utensils, and I was just sitting there, left to wonder if the world was ending and if it wasn't, would we still be moving into our new house in a couple days?
Speaker 1:Chapter 17. Another Tremor, june 28th 1992. 1992. What are the odds? Another large earthquake struck exactly one year after the last one and just like the year before, my mom and I were packing up to move into a new house on July 1st, the same one that I've referred to as my childhood home. Things were pretty much the same for that quake. It happened in the morning, 4th of July was less than a week away, and I was playing with a few of my toys that hadn't been packed up yet. The primary difference was the previous house was one story and this house was two, so my mom wanted me to bring my toys downstairs, as she was afraid that the house was going to collapse. Spoiler alert it didn't.
Speaker 1:Hmm, as I'm sitting here writing, I'm well aware of the similarities, but I'm also acknowledging them. No, nah, no, nah, I'm not that important. Did I really just take a second to consider if that earthquake was the universe's way of delivering me a message? I mean, lots of people were affected by it. I may be the center of the universe in my own mind, but, come on, reality is a different story, and my mind continues to wander. Hmm, I don't like change as of the writing of this entry. I've lived in my current place of residence for 12 years. I'm not going to live here forever, though, and Southern California is long past due for the big one. Maybe I should stay put. Stop it. D, stop it, stop it, stop it. Now, what if I am the center of the universe?
Speaker 1:Chapter 18. My Walk-In Closet, april 1992. It was time to say goodbye to my first house. My dad bought a townhouse a few miles away, which also happened to be a few miles closer to my said childhood home you know Casa Peach, and the townhouse was pretty cool. I had a big room and a big walk-in closet. Now, for a kid turning six you wouldn't think that a walk-in closet would be a big deal, but it was to me. My dad is a particular Taurus and he likes everything to be very neat and tidy. And let's just state the obvious, a child and their toys can be a little bit messy. But none of that mattered because my walk-in closet doubled as a playroom that had a door, hence it couldn't be seen if that door was closed. Hence, dose, my dad could rest easy as he didn't need to see the mess. And, let's be honest, it was a mess. So when we moved in, I was just finishing up kindergarten and, in a material sense, I had everything I'd ever need. I loved that walk-in playroom I used to lay on my belly for hours on end creating serialized stories with my figurines, and I wasn't the kind of kid who'd schlep toys back and forth between houses.
Speaker 1:My dad's house had the DC Comics and other assorted superhero toys. You know them Batman, superman, spider-man, the Batcave from the 1989 Batman film, the Batboat from 1992's Batman Returns, and then over at my mom's I had my Star Trek toys. So whenever I was over at their respective houses I'd pick up the serialized story exactly where I left off after the to-be-continued from where I'd finished before and all elementary school was pretty much good for was daydreaming of a resolution to the cliffhanger of mammoth peril that my figurines would find themselves in. So if you're keeping track, by July 1st of 1992, I'd occupied four different houses that year. So in other words, there was a lot of moving that year. But after a few seconds of silence I'm drawing a blank. But after a few seconds of silence I'm drawing a blank. I don't remember how I felt leaving my first house. All I know is whenever I drive by it now, I long for the innocence of the days of learning how to walk and talk. And, to quote Paul McCartney, yesterday all my troubles seem so far away.
Speaker 1:Chapter 19, august 2004,. Move-in day. There's a well-known expression, something to the tune of the oldest person is a high school senior and the youngest is a college freshman. So when I moved into the dorms, I was about a week away from my first official day of college. My dorm room countdown began nine months prior to move-in day and yes, I'm aware of the irony the acceptance letter came in the mail right before Thanksgiving and the rest of my senior year was a jubilee. Bittersweet dichotomy, to say the least. I couldn't wait to grow up, but I was terrified to move on the story of my life. Little Daniel doesn't like change. I'm a creature of comfort, and one of the primary reasons I chose to attend the college I went to is because they had amazing dorms. As a college freshman, I had my very own room and private bathroom. Yeah, that's right. I based my future off of a temporary living situation. Cute and foolish, right, but if I could sum up my freshman year experience with a few words, they would be thrown off my game. Me.
Speaker 1:The time guy somehow didn't make it to my first class on time. I mean, it was a new alarm clock and I hadn't yet mastered the art of the snooze. And you know there were no parents there as a final backup. So when I finally woke up and looked at the clock, I realized my first class had commenced about 15 minutes prior. So I hauled ass across campus and showed up to my English class wearing my PJs, which consisted of sweatpants and a t-shirt given to me by a buddy of mine whose father owned a clothing company with some spot-on branding. I can only imagine what the professor must have thought when I showed up to that class in that oversized baby blue shirt which bore two letters in big black wording on the front White boy. And to make matters worse, their company tagline was printed on the back of the shirt Fuck all y'all. Their company tagline was printed on the back of the shirt Fuck all y'all.
Speaker 1:Then, after class finished, I went back to my dorm, took a shower, kicked myself repeatedly for being late, then ate a one-pound jar of vanilla Betty Crocker frosting for breakfast, and I sometimes wonder if my diet that year contributed to the multiple kidney stones I had in 2005, including one that required surgery to remove because it was a little too large to pass. And if my diet did contribute to those stones, at least it was a sweet contribution. But I'm also not so sure. My tardiness on the first day of class was exclusively due to my alarm clock mishap. You see, the night before I received a call from my mom informing me that my Uncle Joe had passed away. Uncle Joe was in his 80s, so it's not as if this was earth-shattering breaking news, but I always liked Uncle Joe. He was my grandmother's brother, lived about 15 minutes away from my childhood home and was a staple at all the family gatherings.
Speaker 1:And here I was away from home for the first time, a separation of approximately 450 miles. I wasn't homesick, but I felt helpless. I mean, what could I do? My first college class was starting in less than 12 hours, although some of that was my fault, as I was stupid enough to think I could swing an 8 am class. I mean, couldn't I do it in college if I was able to do it in high school? Cue the laugh track. Thank you for that laugh.
Speaker 1:So after I received that call, I found myself in my new residence living with five guys. I barely knew I was 18 and had to be macho. So I was fearful that if I cried for my Uncle Joe they'd hear me and think that I was weak. So I hopped in my car and went for a drive, and within minutes the tears found their way down my cheeks. This drive may have been born out of grief, but it ended up becoming a drive of exploration, an exploration on roads winding their way through the hills, one where I'd find signs of funny sounding towns and city names, surrounded by unfamiliar topography. And it was in that moment when I found myself living out the expression the oldest person is a high school senior and the youngest is a college freshman. And the day before my first day of college, I suddenly felt like a newborn child. Then the months, they rolled on, largely uneventful, with a bit of academic probation sprinkled on top. But to round everything out, those four walls were my home until the following May, chapter 20. May 2016.
Speaker 1:My 30th birthday Birthdays have always been a tricky little bastard for me. I mean, I understand the concept and all Gather around with a bunch of your loved ones to celebrate another year in the life of you. But aside from the fun childhood birthday parties, my parents threw for me to be attended by my classmates birthdays. Well, they were always accompanied by heaviness as a result of the celebratory concept, as I never felt there was anything to celebrate, and my 30th birthday was no exception. My health struggles throughout my 20s left me with very few accomplishments on paper, and I'm not going to lie. I felt very defeated by that notion and as time goes on, I'm learning more and more that I foolishly derive my value from the way others see me, and this largely kept me in a self-imposed exile throughout the struggles of my 20s, especially when it came to the celebration of me. Aside from my 20th and 21st birthday, I don't recall celebrating with my family, and that was my doing so in keeping with the tradition of my 20s.
Speaker 1:I had absolutely no desire to celebrate my 30th birthday, but my mom? Well, she wouldn't take no for an answer. She wouldn't take no for an answer, so I reluctantly agreed. You see, the countdown for my 30th birthday began shortly after my 28th and really kicked into high gear after my 29th. As I mentally counted down the days until the dreaded 30th, for some reason it felt like the end of my life, a life that I didn't feel I had much to show for. My friends had careers, I didn't. Many of my friends owned their own homes, I didn't. Many of my friends were married and some even had children. I didn't. But those feelings of lack began to dissipate a tiny bit as the family gathered to celebrate me. There was a big happy 30th birthday balloon, my mom tied to my chair in the dining room, and things got a bit sweeter once she rounded the corner with my vanilla cake after dinner. I remember taking the moment in, with my family gathered around, and I truly felt a moment of appreciation For once. It didn't matter what I had or hadn't accomplished yet. These people loved me simply for who I am, and that night I could feel it. My appreciation for them continued to grow aimlessly. From that moment on and after I blew out the candles on my birthday cake. I will forever remember my 30th birthday celebration as the day when I no longer needed to force a smile after blowing out the candles. And, paradoxically, each and every day since my 30th I find myself feeling a bit younger with each passing minute.
Speaker 1:Chapter 21. 1989. Part of your world. Chapter 21, 1989, part of your world. Who here remembers VHS tapes? Wait for it, wait for it, wait for it. I do, I do, I do. And how are VHS tapes relevant to this story about finding the meaning of home. Well, that's simple. We used to have a name for moving images. We'd record on handheld camcorders the Super 8 before it, and other devices going back to the advent of film, and the name for these collections of memories was home movies. And as I write this today, I find myself thinking about one of the last times I watched one of my home movies on VHS.
Speaker 1:In this particular relic I was three years old and looking up at the lens on the giant camcorder perched on my dad's shoulder. The frame was shaky, as my dad, along with well, let's say, 98% of the population, had a difficult time keeping the camcorder steady. But that's neither here nor there at the moment just setting up the visual. So as I looked up and into the lens, I softly sang the words to the song Part of your World from the Little Mermaid, and once I hit the final line in the chorus, my mannerisms became emblematic of my speech pattern at the time. You see, I had trouble pronouncing my W's. The letter was just too damn big for my little mouth. So as I sang part of your world, my mouth moved in a circular motion as I did my best to provide space for the dreaded W to leave my lips and make its way out into the world. Yep, and it's something my mom and I still joke about to this day.
Speaker 1:But is anything truly a coincidence? Let me back up there for a moment. What is the basis for what the Little Mermaid is predicated on? Is it that the main character, ariel, is a teenage princess? Yes, kinda, but not really. Is it that she's rebellious against her father's wishes? Yes, kinda, but not really? Is it that she's rebellious against her father's wishes? Yes, kinda, but not really. Or is it about a girl leaving home for the first time? I think that's it. I was a three-year-old boy that found a way to relate to a teenage girl who was a cartoon. Home has a funny way of doing that. Chapter 22. Just a random thought March 9th 2023. Earlier today, and on the opposite end of the Dorothy spectrum, I found myself wondering have I ever truly felt like any place was home? Truly felt like any place was home? Chapter 23, fall 1997.
Speaker 1:The Report Card. I was in the sixth grade and it was time for the six-week report card. Back in elementary school, the teacher would send the report cards home with you to show your parents. But in middle school they mailed that shit home. Some of the teachers would even go out of their way to let us know report cards were on their way, and that was bad news for me, as I was a shitty student. For this particular report card, there was something I was worried about showing my mom, but for the life of me I can't remember what it was. I mean, it was probably just a grade or something. Anyways, on the way home from the bus stop I'd usually grab the mail and bring it inside, and one day there it was addressed to my mother my report card. And I'm a little embarrassed to say I may or may not have committed a felony that day when I removed the envelope from the mail and then hid it in my closet. But over the next few days the guilt of stealing was just eating away at me. Now I could have simply done the smart thing and just thrown the envelope in with the mail another day, but it felt wrong to me. I felt I had to be punished for my misdeed. If I didn't know better, I'd say I was carrying around guilt from the past life of, I don't know, judas Genghis Khan or one of those schmucks, because it just felt out of proportion, but past lives and stuff. Anyways, I'm sorry I digressed. So I told my mom I did something bad and I showed her where I hid the report card and I subsequently got grounded, and that was when I learned that I may have committed a felony. Well, according to my mom, that is, but it must have been true, because moms know everything Right.
Speaker 1:Chapter 24, the Plastic Goodbye, june 1998. By this point, my dad had been living in his townhouse for six years. From what I remember, he liked the place, yet there was one key thing missing from his living arrangement a yard. At my first house, my parents could afford a gardener, yet I always remember seeing him working in the yard, even after the gardeners had been there, dragging around garden shears in a 32-gallon trash, can I mean? I guess he enjoyed it or something.
Speaker 1:So when I found myself living in a house in 2008, around the time when I found myself at my lowest, I grabbed the garden shears from the garage, went out and trimmed some plants, all the while pretending as if I had the slightest clue of what I was doing. But, unlike my dad, due to my health issues at the time, I didn't have the energy to bend down and clean everything up. I just figured that the ebb and flow of the atmosphere would do its thing over time. Dot dot dot spoiler alert it didn't, and the trimmings remained grounded. Anyways, around the six-year mark of my dad living in his townhouse, he felt it was time for a change. So he bought a house, quite literally a block away from my childhood home, casa Peach, which my mom was still living in at the time, and it was a house from my dad that was also about 12 miles further from work and in LA speak, that could be up to an hour added onto his commute every day.
Speaker 1:Just to be closer to me, and as I was reminiscing earlier, deciding which direction I wanted to take this entry, I thought about my walk-in playroom at the townhouse when it was time to move into the new house. There wasn't a designated space for me to house my toys, but the truth is I was pretty much too old at that point to be playing with figurines. But the truth is, I was pretty much too old at that point to be playing with figurines, but letting go was difficult, so I wasn't ready to part with them yet. So 12-year-old Daniel boxed them up and put them in the closet at his new house. They saw the light of day one more time a few months later, but it wasn't the same. The magic of a boy playing with his toys is no longer anywhere to be found. I miss that plastic. I miss creating story time. In that respect, just be straight D. There's no need to hide it I miss my toys.
Speaker 1:Chapter 25. The Sweetest Goodbye Conjecture seems to be an appropriate word, but at the time it was one of the saddest days of my life. We all gathered to say goodbye. Why would God do this to us, I thought. Why would God do this to me? Ava, she was my first love and I was on the verge of tears as a group of my friends and I gathered around the table outside watching others mourn. They would enter and exit as they said their goodbyes to Ava.
Speaker 1:But I, I had to be strong, eva. But I, I had to be strong. I couldn't let them see me cry. It may sound like hyperbole, but it truly was one of the most stoic moments of my life. I couldn't let go. I wouldn't let go. It felt like my soul was being ripped out of my chest, right where my broken heart remained shattered.
Speaker 1:Yet somehow, her novelty had never worn off. I was always excited to see her and she always knew how to make me smile. And when the end was there, I knew I had to savor each and every last scent and every last moment. Just knowing the sweetness of that butterscotch taste would never grace my lips again, and I sat there at the table thinking of all the pivotal life moments I'd shared with her For roughly 30 years. She was always on my mind when I wasn't with her. I missed her. Now, let's call a spade a spade. I was obsessed and it wasn't healthy and, if not kept in check, she had the ability to not only break but stop my heart. I mean, sure, I could have done worse, but a vice is a vice, and without my favorite frozen yogurt shop, ava's Yogurt, I feared my life would never be the same.
Speaker 1:Ava's Yogurt was a few miles from my first house and about 15 miles from where I live now, so going to see my first love wasn't always a quick journey. And then I found out in early March of 2016 that Ava would be closing up shop due to the landlord clearing out all the tenants to make way for a new building, and the word was this is it. So I probably went to visit Ava about half a dozen times over the next few weeks and every time I went in there I wouldn't be surprised if everyone in the shop could feel my heaviness. Hell a few days before Ava's yogurt closed, I remember going to the park right near my childhood home and I was crushed Already. Fearing turning 30 in two months was already weighing on me. But losing Ava, that was the blow I couldn't bear. Would you believe me if I said I began to cry while I was walking around the park? Wait for it. I mean, you probably do believe it, considering how many times I've mentioned frozen yogurt on the show. But I wasn't only crying for Ava, I was crying for life. I was turning 30, and I didn't have much to show for it. And it was in moments like those that I'd go to my Ava for comfort. That moment in the park that was somewhat of a reckoning for me.
Speaker 1:Over the years I had introduced numerous friends to what I consider to be one of my meccas, if not the primary one, and on Ava's final day we all gathered around for a little sweet taste of heaven. Some of us hadn't seen each other in a few years, so it was bittersweet for the group, but I was dying inside. Ava's yogurt had been in my life for nearly 30 years, and in the group my best friend Brian followed, as he and Ava had become acquainted for nine years. Before her final day, it was only four walls that housed dairy. So why was I so sad? Was it because I was thinking about the first time I tasted her blended magic? Or was it because I thought about the first time I drove to Ava after getting my driver's license? Or was it because I was thinking of each and every time some of which I couldn't even remember because they were too numerous that Ava and her frozen yogurt had lifted my spirits when I was feeling down? Or was the answer more clear and cut?
Speaker 1:I simply don't like change. Sure, I could always go to another frozen yogurt joint, but it wouldn't be the same. Even if I found a place that I liked more, it wouldn't be the same. You never forget your first love, and that evening, the ugly side of capitalism forced me to walk away from mine. Now here's the irony Six months later, I received a piece of news that changed my life.
Speaker 1:The following month, ava was set to open her doors in a new home on the other side of the shopping center, in the same parking lot as her previous home of 30 years. In other words, ava's new home was on the same cul-de-sac. To say that I was ecstatic when I learned of the news well, that would be an understatement. Life was about to be the same again. Seriously, I was going crazy.
Speaker 1:And it gets even better and better because two months after Ava came back into my life, I began taking an astrology class right around the corner from Ava's yogurt, and that meant that I would get to visit with my first love every Monday, and you bet your ass, I did. Generally, I'd visit Ava before class, but sometimes I'd have to settle for after class. And I'm sure a few of you are already asking yourselves did he? And the answer is yes, sometimes I went to see Ava before and after class on the same day. I mean, we were back, baby right, and the good times well, they just kept on rolling as, a few months later, I started taking a second class on Wednesday nights, taught by my astrology teacher, and that class was called Contemplation and Inquiry, and you know how it goes from there. Yummy, yummy, yummy, I got yogurt in my tummy.
Speaker 1:Fast forward a few years, to February of 2020, when Ava and I that's when we shared our favorite memory together. It was a Monday afternoon and I was in the neighborhood, so I dropped by for a little unannounced visit, and while most people despise the pop-in, would you believe me if I told you that Ava welcomed it? But in order for this story to make sense, I need to tell you a little bit about Ava's new dwelling. She now resided in an upscale suburban Los Angeles grocery store. You know the kind where all of your favorite brands are marked up 1-200%. The kind of place where a simple bag of goldfish crackers will cost you $7.99 and most of the people who shop there think that everything tastes better because it's more expensive. And let me tell you, sister, it all came from the same factory and the same packaging. It ain't even generic, it's quite literally the same.
Speaker 1:Anyways, the owners of Ava's Yogurt were a married couple who I've always referred to as Adam and Eve, and Adam and Eve first opened Ava's doors in the early 1980s. I'd always seen both either behind the counter working it back or simply being decent human beings, but I'd never had a conversation with them. But that all changed over 30 years later. On that February day, I got my normal order vanilla with cookie dough and Eve rang me up and it was in that moment when we both finally said more than. And it was in that moment when we both finally said more than How's your day, thank you, you're welcome and have a good day. I assumed that, since it was a Monday, e felt it was appropriate to ask the question Taking the day off. I responded yes, and she asked me what I did for work. So I looked her in the eye and I said I'm a past life regressionist. Now I'll never know if it was the eye contact or what I said that gave Eve the visceral reaction of a deer in headlights. But the good thing is I've become quite accustomed to those situations, so I pretty much always know how to respond. However, that day I went into Ava's yogurt in default mode and, with Eve still frozen, I raised my hand, smiled, waved and said have a great day.
Speaker 1:Fast forward to the next day From the suburbs. I was heading into the city to go to a writing class and Ava well, she was only five minutes out of the way, so it was time for the pop-in. I parked in the old-timer yuppie grocery store parking lot, got out of my car wearing a pair of Levi's, a $5 solid blue Old Navy t-shirt and a pair of black Vans, and then I proceeded to walk through the electric sliding glass doors only to be greeted by my Mecca. Then, before being helped, I briefly stood in line behind one of the said old-timer yuppie patrons who was sampling every fucking soft surf flavor they had. But no skin off my back as I was helped by someone else pretty quickly and I made my way to the register. As most of the employees already knew my order.
Speaker 1:Eve was behind the register ringing up the OG yuppie, and I stood there in a moment of minor disbelief as the OG's order had already been prepared, so she wasn't sampling to buy just to be a pain in the ass. But I'll say this, without those samples this story would be bland. So while Eve was ringing up the OG, she looked at me and said you know, in all of the years I've been here, I've heard of many interesting professions, but I've never heard of one as unique as yours. Needless to say, this put a smile on my face and with a mouthful of white soft-serve yogurt, the OG yuppie turns to me and asks what? Are you? A hairdresser or something?
Speaker 1:In that moment I took on Eve's role of the deer in headlights from the day before, momentarily frozen as I tried to figure out if the OG's face was puffy from the cold yogurt, a spider bite or, the obvious choice, copious amounts of Botox. But hairdresser, that was a new one, unique, I mean. Sure, hairdressers are unique in their own right, but when someone says they're a hairdresser, you know what that means. I figured fuck it. No need for me to be obnoxious in return. So I responded no, I'm the next best thing. I'm a past life regressionist. Then I asked her do you believe in reincarnation? And with a mouthful of yogurt pouring over her non-voluptuous lips, she said ew, no. So that was the end of that conversation. Then I turned and I looked at Eve and without saying a word, I feel she just knew what I was thinking and feeling. And that was, I see, the shit you must deal with daily. And Eve smiled. So I paid, went on my way, ate my motherfucking yogurt and said to myself that is going to make for a great story one day. And for the next month or so I'd have a little chat with Eve every time I popped in, but then things changed and since you all lived through that, I'll spare you the worldly details, but I still made my way to Ava's weekly, but Eve wasn't there.
Speaker 1:Then one day I asked one of the employees where's Eve been and she told me that Eve had some autoimmune issues so she was going to stay away until things calmed down and deep down. I knew it would be a while until that happened, so I asked the employee to forward a message to Eve for me. Please tell her. The past life regressionist dude says hi. Then the employee eagerly agreed and followed with an inquiry of her own. You're a past life regressionist dude, says hi. Then the employee eagerly agreed and followed with an inquiry of her own You're a past life regressionist. That's so cool. Have you ever heard of the book Journey of Souls? I had and spoiler alert after that conversation. I may or may not have gotten some secondhand business out of that interaction, because one of the other employees may have overheard our conversation.
Speaker 1:Then some time went by until I saw Eve again, and it wasn't long until she delivered some devastating news. If memory serves, it was December of 2021. And there was a man I didn't recognize who was standing behind the counter and there was a man I didn't recognize who was standing behind the counter. I could tell he was not an employee by the way he carried himself. I mean, he acted as if he owned the place. And that's when I felt the similar sting of nearly six years earlier, even for me, that she and Adam had sold the shop. I told her I was sad to hear this, but I was happy for them, as I could tell she was ready to move on to the next phase of her life. She then introduced me as a regular to the new owner and, with a smile on my face, I flashed a stare that said I know you're kind, I may not own the joint, but don't you dare fuck with my Ava. Either he was psychic or I was thinking out loud, because he said don't worry, nothing is going to change. Then he went out of his way to make a proclamation that even I knew to be unreasonable and we won't be raising prices.
Speaker 1:The transition period that lasted a few months and once Adam and Eve turned over possession, the prices were raised significantly. The quality of the product remained the same, but the comfortable and simple pre-flash aesthetic of the physical menu I came to know, and love was stripped away in favor of bland TVs and bleak colors and, as you've heard me repeatedly say, i't like change. But this was a bunch of horse shit. If it's not broken, don't fix it. If you need to make it your own, start something new and broken record, as you heard me say before. The quality of the product didn't change, but to me it no longer tasted as sweet and homey as it always had, so so I stopped going out of my way for Ava's yogurt.
Speaker 1:When I began writing this entry a few days ago, I went to look back at Ava's Facebook page just to double check that I had the correct date of her closing in 2016. And it was in those posts that I realized there was an announcement made in early March of 2016,. Shortly after I found out that Ava was closing her doors, and that post stated that Ava was closing her doors at the end of the month. But there were also subsequent posts that said they were looking for a new location. There were also subsequent posts that said they were looking for a new location. Now I forgive myself for not following Ava's Facebook page at the time, because had I done that, I would have seen the post, but I do realize all of the dread I felt that entire month. It all could have been avoided had I just said a little something more to the employees, or Adam and Eve, than my normal. How's your day? Thank you, you're welcome and have a good day, because if I conversed a little more with them, I'm fairly confident they would have told me that they were looking for a new location. I mean, especially Adam and Eve. I'd always seen them, but I never really talked to them. But now I'm happy to know that, since they're no longer running Ava's Yogurt, they now have more time to visit their daughter in Northern California.
Speaker 1:Fast forward to today, as I'm writing this, in March of 2023. One of the friends I mentioned earlier from the Wake well, her and I met up at Ava's this afternoon mentioned earlier from the wake. Well, her and I met up at Ava's this afternoon. It had been a while since I'd been there and I'm not going to lie, I was a little bitter walking in, but as I approached the counter, the new aesthetic was present, but there was a familiar glow the employee I mentioned earlier, the one who had asked me about the past life regression book Journey of Souls. Well, she'd left Ava's at some point in 2021.
Speaker 1:But today, there she was behind the counter.
Speaker 1:She gave me a little smile and said hey, danny, medium vanilla with cookie dough.
Speaker 1:And I said yep. So we talked for a bit and she informed me that she'd come back a few months ago and had recently bought a sizable percentage of Ava's yogurt, now finding herself as a co-owner, and another employee mentioned that things had been going downhill for a while, but my old friend was now righting the ship and as I left, instead of saying goodbye, I waved and said I'll see you soon. And with that, ava felt a little bit like home again. And to provide a little update for you, my old friend has been doing some remodeling over at Ava's for the past few months, but the remodel is nothing contemporary, as she got into contact with Adam and Eve and acquired the original artwork and funds from when Ava's doors opened nearly 40 years ago and, more importantly, they're the same yogurt drawings I remember seeing as a child. This year, I've had to face somewhat of a reckoning with saying goodbye to my child at home, so I believe that it's safe to say the universe it truly does work in mysterious ways To be continued.