I am at my beach house just two blocks from a beautiful state beach along the Pacific Ocean. People find out I have a house and wonder why I spend most of my time in the Bay Area. It used to be because my kids were there, but now two of them have left, and… Continue reading A Solitary Life
It all started with a post on Facebook, showing how your average American doesn’t know how to shuck corn. If you are from Iowa in the 60’s, then you know how. We weren’t well off. As a matter of fact, people would give us bags of food, like homegrown apples, tomatoes, or corn. Our job… Continue reading A Corny Tale
In 1969 Max Yasgur’s pig farm in upstate New York sounded like the place to be for three days and three nights. Frank had been delivering the Woodstock tickets for weeks on Long Island at his job as a summer letter carrier for the U.S. Post office. He and the other summer carriers knew it… Continue reading Work or Woodstock?
My beach town has a state-run conference center in it, with rustic buildings designed by the architect, Julia Morgan. It’s what got me here back in the late 80’s and 90’s, attending a writer’s conference next to the ocean. Over the years. I’ve seen brown state-issued signs posted for mountain lion sightings. I’ve never seen… Continue reading Another Brush with Nature
Daisy and I have gained our summer weight – me from wine and ice cream, Daisy from a fuller dish of food twice a day. She looks good. My house is a veritable playground for the two dogs. It looks like toddlers live with me. They have stuffed monkeys, squeak toys, and deflated balls everywhere.… Continue reading Daisy Rescue Dog Month #8
(re-run) Yesterday, at my bi-monthly massage at the chiropractor’s, Curtis the masseur asked me lots of questions to help the 55 minute session go by. I was chatting away as he rubbed the kinks out of my neck, shoulder and lower back, telling him this and that, until he came around to the big question,… Continue reading Do Nerds Laugh?
(re-run) I had lunch with my son today. We were trying to figure out why I’d used up all my storage on my cell phone. He took a look, handed back my phone, and watched me put it in my pocket. “You need to hit the button on the side and turn off your screen,”… Continue reading Butt Dials and Other My-Bads