There are millions of stories swirling around us — tales of whoo-hoo! Tales of OMG-you-have-got-to-be-kidding…
All happening. At the same time. In this crazy world. Like feeling dumb-struck grateful for having two opposable thumbs. Or waking up at three o’clock in the morning with another blast of existential angst. The utter joy when a Gen Z cashier with tattoos, piercings and a beautific smile, bags my groceries at Trader Joe’s. That quick jolt of numbing cold when I get another notification on my phone from… well… the bad news bears.
Stories about remembering — that good health is temporary. So is every one. Every thing. Every moment. Tales about holding on…for dear life. Letting go… for dear life. With a sorta-open heart and kinda-unclenched hands. Thank you for sharing your personal bandwidth and precious time with me and may you find yourself in these stories too.
Please leave your comments because this story-telling business goes both ways. I can’t wait to hear from you!
I arrive at my gigs with a list of this month’s famous birthday people and events. I will wrap each one around a song. It’s March and one of the notables is Oscar Ferdinand Mayer. He was born March 29, 1859. The guy liked meat. I bet he ate a…
Last December a dear friend gifted me with a life changing present, although I couldn’t have known how life changing at the time. I tore open the bag with glee, careful not to spill onto my plate of spicy noodles at a Thai joint in Hollywood. “Oh my God! It’s…
It’s Sunday afternoon. Open House day in Culver City, California. Normally I drive right past those For Sale signs sprouting on street corners. I’m too busy coming or going or thinking about food or traffic or listening to the latest podcast of Wait, Wait Don’t Tell Me. But not today……
I land on the steps of The Superior Court Building one June morning in buoyant, conflicted downtown Los Angeles and queue up with the rest of the prospective jurors to squeeze through security and “go right” into the big gray-feeling jury pool room. Can you tell I’m jittery? Actually I…
I’m at Trader Joe’s doing my “food gathering” thing and rolling the cart past the display of ready-made yummies because…well…I am good at reheating and turning on the microwave. Another shopper, a Gen Xer kind of gal, is leaning into the stacks of meatloaf and chicken wraps when her cell…
We are having a date! Husband and I are zigzagging through rain-splashy traffic for an afternoon matinee of Julia Sweeney’s one-woman show at the Geffen Playhouse in Westwood Village. It’s dog-eat-dog as he squeezes our little Honda Fit into the long line of cars entering the $4 validated parking lot…
