Suprise Me

Being pretty much the academic nerd, I’m reasonably certain that no one in my mid 1960s  high school life looked to me for fashion statements.  Moreover, I wasn’t allowed to clothes shop with any frequency, and when I did, I got little guidance from my disinterested mother. But I did know about and covet Villager… Read More

This guy Heinlein could really tell a story. Read More

My marijuana story starts with a woman named Martha Lupton Schneidewind. She was my high school journalism teacher in West Covina, Calif. – a tall, birdlike woman who wore wool suits and ladylike scarves and had a quick, scampering walk. She was kind, loquacious and, to my insensitive teenage self, amusingly absurd with her chirping… Read More

As far back as I can remember I dreamed of traveling. There were so many places I wished to see. The term “bucket list” had not yet even been thought of but had it been, I would have needed a “bucket wheelbarrow”. Over the years I have been blessed to have traveled to many places… Read More

I grew up in rural New England and, altho my dad was a scientist who worked in Boston, I spent my school years in a small public school that embraced equal measures of college prep students and shop kids. Many of my friends were the sons and daughters of farmers and mechanics. Out of family… Read More

I remember sitting, almost in disbelief, listening to our favorite songs while watching Simon and Garfunkel who, truth be told, seemed a bit geeky like we were. Read More

Stroke, stroke, bail…bail..bail…bail! If only you could hear my accent. Moose and Squirrel, Boris and Natasha (did anyone else see her resemblance to the original Barbie?), Dudley Do-Right, Mr Peabody and his boy Sherman. My brother and I loved them all, and reveled in the silliness of the Cold War cartoons with our heroes always… Read More

“You know I almost didn’t ask you out”, said Bob. We had been dating six days, were in bed, post-coitus. “A guy named Dan Pfau told me you were a tease.” “Who is this guy to call me a tease (since I, obviously, am NOT!), and how do you spell PFAU?” I queried, quite upset… Read More

Grace's bugle will shatter the silent spring with piercing streams of silver. Four notes will hold up the sky while they echo through the cemetery, layered like too many tears on a little girl’s cheek. Read More

As I’ve been following the young activists today who are taking a leadership role in a fight my generation seemed to have given up on, it brought me back to another time when young people felt both helpless and passionate about a cause. In our day, it was the anti-war movement. What is tragically similar… Read More