(re-run) After hiking six miles with the senior group called DASH, which does not dash at all, but rather hikes slowly through the woods with plenty of stops for bathroom breaks, snack breaks, or count-up-and-regroup breaks, I was too pooped to go out dancing. But my friends were going, it was close (just one town… Continue reading Street Dance
In a stressed-out world, one of the best things I can do for myself is to relax and de-stress by either singing music or dancing to it. Once a week I go off and sing with my chorus of 130 people. During those two hours, I don’t think about world news, White House news, weather… Continue reading M is for Music
(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
Tonight I had a co-author meeting with my fellow authors. We met in a local restaurant bar that had been taken over by elderly singers for open mic night. Think Meet-up for super seniors. We quickly retreated to the dining room where I drank water and used my laptop to record our changes on the… Continue reading Not Dinner Conversation
(re-run) My chorus just did two back-to-back performances this past weekend. There are 120 of us this semester, with only thirty men. The men sing the bass and tenor parts, and five of us women sing the higher tenor part with the guys. Why, you ask? Because we five gals have a lower range than… Continue reading Lady Tenor in a Sea of Men
“I like the way you dance,” he said to me last Saturday afternoon. Margo and I had gone to Vino Godfather, a cool little winery in an old Victorian house on Mare Island in Vallejo. The island used to be a naval base, judging from the abandoned barracks on the way to the winery. A… Continue reading Cut Loose on a Saturday Afternoon