(re-run) 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… Continue reading Crocodile Rock
Category: summer
A Corny Tale
(re-run) 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… Continue reading A Corny Tale
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
Popsicles, Light Carpet, and Stitches
(re-run) It was Labor Day weekend. We needed to get a handle on the mess in the garage. I asked my oldest to watch my youngest while we parents worked outside. She was nine, in 4th grade already for a week, and the baby was almost two and a half. Then a series of unfortunate… Continue reading Popsicles, Light Carpet, and Stitches
Street Dance
(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
Shop Till You Drop
(re-run) We had already hit two thrift stores and were heading for a third. Then I remembered that Vicky wanted to go to the ones in Carmel. I turned onto Forest Avenue and took the winding highway 68 through the Monterey pines. It would lead to the new roundabout that would send the traffic north… Continue reading Shop Till You Drop
Chinese Fire Drills and Other Politically Incorrect Things from my Past
Back in high school in a suburb of Des Moines, Iowa, we did whatever we could to stir up some fun and sometimes some trouble. It was a simple existence: go to school, do homework, think about and look for boys. With no cell phones or social media to organize anything, kids spent a lot… Continue reading Chinese Fire Drills and Other Politically Incorrect Things from my Past
