Moochy Mc Moocherson

It was the early 2000’s. Lynn met a cute guy in the wine country, Yountville, while dancing at a bar with her friends. Eric said he was also from the Bay Area, and he asked her out.  She said yes. Lynn had told the neighbors about her new guy, so they were all out in… Continue reading Moochy Mc Moocherson

Crocodile Rock

Friday evening there was an Elton John tribute band in the plaza. Since Yellow Brick Road is one of my all-time favorite albums, I thought, why not?  My youngest, visiting from Boston, had plans to see her friends in Berkeley. It had finally cooled off a bit, and the smoke from the wildfires wasn’t blowing… Continue reading Crocodile Rock

Happily Never After

There it was on my Facebook feed. A writer friend I barely knew saying the best day of her life was the day she met her husband.  And a chorus friend telling her spouse “Love you, Babe” on their 30+ anniversary. It stings a little. It used to sting a lot. While going through an… Continue reading Happily Never After

Plain Jane

My middle name is Jane. I don’t love it. There was a commercial in the 70’s for hair dye, I think. I remember the line,” Don’t be a plain Jane.” After that I disliked both my middle name and my hair color. There was another commercial in that decade that said, “Boys don’t make passes… Continue reading Plain Jane

Second Time Around

Suzanne needed a date for her Alpha Delta Phi sorority party that was being held off campus at one’f the sister’s parents’ house. She invited a guy from her old high school, Mark. When they got there, Mark knew the physician dad because they’d been on ski patrol together one winter in Tahoe. Mark loved… Continue reading Second Time Around

A Solitary Life

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

Work or Woodstock?

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?