A pillow of winds

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

I had become friends with another dishwasher at Coyote Creek named Carl. He came to my rescue, taking me back to Los Baños in his older truck, so I could get my car towed home. We brought it to a repair shop by Sonora High School, where the mechanic eventually figured out that the problem was a five-dollar part called the ignition points. It’s a tiny little piece of metal and plastic that fits in the palm of your hand, but it can disable your car.

Carl was studying to be a pilot. His girlfriend Annie worked as a waitress at Coyote Creek as well. He was a huge Pink Floyd fan, and we talked about the band’s music a lot. Together, we analyzed many of the band’s songs, trying to figure out every nuance of what the lyrics could mean. In 1994, a few of us hopped in Carl’s parents’ RV and watched Pink Floyd live in Oakland.

I loved Pink Floyd growing up, but hanging out with Carl helped me understand and get to know many things I didn’t know about this amazing band. After seeing Pink Floyd live, I found myself purchasing the book Saucerful of Secrets: The Pink Floyd Odyssey, watching Pink Floyd: Live at Pompeii countless times, memorizing many of their song lyrics, especially “Nobody Home,” and singing “Shine on You Crazy Diamond” frequently while playing the air guitar. The song “A Pillow of Winds” off of one of my favorite albums, Meddle, still helps me fall asleep at nights and watching David Gilmour and Richard Wright in perfect harmony in 2006 concert performing “Wot’s… Uh the Deal?” brings tears into my eyes everytime I watch it.

     Years later, Carl and Annie — still together — came to visit me in Fresno. He had become a pilot by then. These days he keeps busy fighting California fires from a helicopter. As we shared a cold brew, we enjoyed reflecting on the fact that we had washed dishes together years ago for minimum wage, each of us chasing the “American dream.”  

     After washing dishes at Coyote Creek for almost a year and a half, I was given the opportunity to bus tables. It was great to get out of the hot kitchen and be able to walk through the restaurant’s main floor. Although I got some tips at the end of shifts from the generous waitstaff as a dishwasher, as a busboy the tips were slightly higher.

     I usually hung out at the bar after my shift ended. I would chat with customers and the regulars to practice my English, which was improving steadily, and try out one or two of the wide selection of beers available. Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, Bass Ale, Pilsner Urquell, Red Stripe, Guinness Stout, and Harp Lager were some of my favorites.

     Late one afternoon, when I was sitting at the bar, sipping a cold one, I struck up a conversation with the gentleman sitting next to me, who was drinking iced tea. When I asked him what brought him to town, he told me he played the saxophone and was in town for a show at Columbia College near Sonora. When I asked him if he was in a band, he said he played for Steely Dan. I was astonished. I realized that I had seen him play with them at the Shoreline Amphitheatre in Mountain View in 1993 with my buddy Jeff. They remain one of my favorite bands to this day.

     His name was Cornelius Bumpus, and he had also performed with the Doobie Brothers and Ambrosia. We talked about Donald Fagen and Walter Becker, the two founders of Steely Dan, and music in general. He seemed like a quiet, self-possessed guy, and I probably made him talk more than he might have otherwise, as I washed over him with a wave of excited questions. But he was extremely kind and patient with a fan.

     I was very sad to hear that he passed away in 2004, suffering a heart attack on a plane. I will never forget his kind personality and our encounter at Coyote Creek.