Pasadena, California-great weather, old money. Every January 1st, city of the Rose Parade and the Rose Bowl football game. An obnoxious, ambitious blue-collar from Boston arrives in Pasadena in the 1920's with his young family and starts a trucking business; but by the 70's it's mostly gone. The point-of-view in these poems is that of his grandson, reflecting on his hometown, his tragicomic family, and his mixed-up life. The usual happens--the death of a pet, Boy Scouting, first car, first love, eccentric relatives, high-school victories and defeats. Pasadena endures, with its remarkable climate, punctuated by earthquakes, Santa Ana winds, smog, and, on wonderfully rare occasions, snow. Maybe we don't have a choice as to who we're born to, or where we grow up. But maybe we do.