(re-run) I was a teenager when Michael Jackson became a household name. He was a stand-out in his brothers’ band, the Jackson Five. He was ten years old when he sang ABC, simple as 1 – 2- 3, Girl, I love you! I watched MJ grow up. I bought his first solo album, Off the… Continue reading Michael Jackson, Misunderstood or a Perve?
Jim’s job was to put the crunch in the new peanut butter, Jif. One machine chopped the peanuts into slivers, and another machine used pistons to plug the slivers into the creamy product. Jim also had to taste test peanut butter that had been sitting on a shelf for three months in 100 degree heat.… Continue reading Hold the Crunch
It started with the dead begonia plant. Sis and I called our mother who lives with our younger sister ninety miles away. “How is your begonia doing?” Mom asked Sis. I looked over to the college-sized fridge. The begonia plant was gone. As Sis talked with Mom, I went down the hallway and asked the… Continue reading Dead Begonias and Other Stuff
It was Tom the contractor’s umpteenth date on Match.com. The woman was from the same affluent town, was the same height as he was (he was being optimistic and not counting the two inches he’d lost by aging), and was ready to meet him at Bridges, the hot spot downtown with the best happy hour. … Continue reading The Contractor and the Jet Setter
It seems that everything is happening on April 6th. There is a fashion show, a Beatles tribute band playing, a piano concert, two big sales at my favorite thrift stores, and a girlfriend’s afternoon wedding. Guess which one I am going to do. She is thrilled to be getting married to her guy, two seniors… Continue reading April 6th, a Popular Date
Now that my hot tub has been broken for months and my hamstrings are tight and my body hurts because I’m old and can no longer soak away the aches and pains, I told my sister today that I am going to invent a tiny little room with a soaking tub in it. People can… Continue reading Tubs to Go
When I finally sat down to read my two Sunday newspapers in the evening, I opened up the bag that was supposed to be my local paper and found the New York Times. The delivery person left me the wrong paper? I’d already had trouble in the a.m. procuring the San Francisco Chronicle. I was… Continue reading My Newspaper-ritual Disaster