Looking in the mirror this morning, I thought of the photographer the day before, “Let’s shoot your good side”, he said. Using the crooked mirror behind me, I looked at both saggy profiles … I laughed …hell, shoot ‘em both.… Continue Reading
I walked into a 7-11 to buy a paper…”Yo, Mr. Weight Watcher, over here”… a rectangle of crusty, sugar-coated dough fried in pig fat was calling to me. I checked the app on my phone…no calories listed just a blinking… Continue Reading
• I’m a sucker for “How We Met” stories… spouse, friend, significant other… I like ‘em all. Cherry and I met on a blind date and were married two months later at the Redding Airport… they held the plane until… Continue Reading
• People ask me all the time if I regret not having kids. My pause, though not pregnant, seems to make them uncomfortable. • If I were King of California, I would not leave the budget decisions to the politicians.… Continue Reading
• I’ve flunked every one of those magazine tests measuring my compatibility and communication skills and all that other touchy-feely junk. (Insensitive? Me?) Those tests send me into a tailspin. The ones about alcohol consumption make me thirsty. Cherry makes… Continue Reading
• Tendency. Before anyone has finished criticizing me, I’m already thinking of a way to say it’s not my fault. I really hate that about myself… I blame my mother. • I’m just smart enough to know what I’m not… Continue Reading
• I have a friend with a nervous laugh… he makes me nervous. • There’s a neighborhood cat I call Dog because he follows me to the river, fetches a toy mouse I bought him and jumps on my back… Continue Reading
• I sometimes get chided for mixing words or metaphors. I don’t get it. I’m running as fast as I can. • Names, faces, dates . . . not a clue, but I CAN recognize a great laugh, in the… Continue Reading
• My secretary is good. I wave my arms, talk incoherently, point and sputter and she completes my thought and hands me the correct file. • I like wine, but when my feet are held to the fire, I have… Continue Reading
I grew up in Arcata. Several small, dark bars surrounded the town plaza. They were usually populated with lumber workers, mill owners, college students trying very hard to look “old” and the occasional professor counseling a pretty graduate student. I… Continue Reading
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