93 words

A Special New Year Begins

2009-08-26T22:36:00.000-07:00

You've heard me say it before: Forget January 1 -- the first day of school is real New Year's Day. Always worth a picture.

But today isn't a run-of-the-mill first day of school. It's the first day of Jamie's last year of high school. Turning 18 in October, he graduates Class of 2010.

Maybe that's why, for the first time in his "first day of schools," he beat me to the digital punch.

Grabbing his lunch, Jamie said: "Is it camera time?"

Happy to officially ring in this exciting new year.

Change of Art Plans

2009-08-23T21:13:00.001-07:00

I rinsed bottles of liquid watercolor, part of today's shed clean-out.

Run-off blotched my hands fuscia, my mind hugging memories of little boys busy with brushes.

Colorful vestiges of pre-school crafts. Back when art supplies stayed out 24-7. When art trumped almost all. Days long forgotten.

Or so I thought.

"What happened to the paint bottles?" Jamie asked tonight.

He'd apparently spied the bottles in the shed, figured them into a stay-at-home date night with Oli.

Happy with our regained usefulness, the craft corner and I yielded creative alternatives.

Friday-extra: Craving that 9 month break... Again

2009-08-21T15:29:00.000-07:00

It's Friday, and by my count there are 5 days until school starts again for my sons... and I am reminded of my essay published 7 summers ago. Back before my sons were teenagers.

So I offer it up now to all parents who, like I was then -- and am now -- ready for school to begin again.

No matter how much they claim its untrue, kids like school. Maybe not the homework. But the energy.

There's always something happening at school. That's not always true for summer days.

Summer doldrums can be hard... on parents, too.

_{(NOTE: The email address on the article is no longer valid.)}

Take-home Trail Lessons

2009-08-21T12:52:00.000-07:00

Overheard on today's walking trail:

One woman emoting to another,"This is a precious time. Stop wasting my time by..."

Her voice trailed out of earshot, leaving my walking partner and I to consider the stage, fill in blanks:

Was it one friend telling a story: "And so I said..."

Perhaps advice: "Here's what you should say..."

Or was it an in-the-moment reprimand: "Stop wasting this time together."

Either way, it was food for our thoughts. Personalizing who, what and why.

Then reminding each other where to start:

The mirror.

Do-nothing Day Fuels Imagination

2009-08-17T06:24:00.000-07:00

A do-nothing hang-around day. Like all our childhood summer days.

But our museum break had morphed into screen play -- televisions, computers and phones. Aunts, uncles, cousins at Grandpa and Weezie's house.

So we took a walk.

Past Audobon's pond, down the long driveway into Rock Creek Park. My brother, sister and I sharing childhood stories with the others.

We crossed the bridge to a path we'd forgotten. Maybe never known?

A colonial carriage trail later used by a finishing school. Decorative bridges. Creek views. Stone structure partially buried.

Fuel for imagination.

The Power of Curator Editing

2009-08-14T19:38:00.000-07:00

It's really too much, all the things the curators jammed into the war exhibit at the Smithsonian's American History Museum. So much that it's hard to know where to start.

Left with the overwhelming feeling that there's just not enough time to do it justice, I felt obliged to race through, casting eyes on pictures, reading snippets of quotes, watching bits of the videos.

Until... I stumbled upon the quiet of the P.O.W. alcove with just uniformed mannequin, living essentials and wall-sized photo of an emotional homecoming.

Powerful.

Effective editing always is.

Stalled Communications, Woman to Woman

2009-08-13T07:09:00.000-07:00

A column of poetry punctuated my departure from Carolina's Rare Book Collection reading room.

A bathroom surprise. Tempting, even.

"Yellow door Haiku.
Syllable connections, stalled.
Woman to woman."

But I couldn't do it. Not as student. Not now.

So I remained read-only, left amazed at literary graffiti's survival within this no-drinks, no-food, no noise zone.

Librarians...

Are you in the author mix, forgiving forgotten Haiku rules...

Or blinded by employee-only bathroom status?

Perhaps you applaud from a distance, watching where this poetic trail might lead.

Wondering... next generation "rare"?

Re-living Wilson Reading Room

2009-08-12T08:57:00.001-07:00

I could have sat in this very chair. Hard-backed red-oak with a gentle grove on the seat, a slight rise to divide the leg space.

Certainly I looked out these very windows. The asbestos tiles, waxed annually to a protective shine. Red oak bookcases. Brass lamps. All familiar, unchanged.

Walking around Chapel Hill has fueled lots of memories. But these chairs, the long tables, the brass table lamps -- its brought back the experience.

This spot makes me eager to refresh goals, feeling again youth's potential.

Potential I know still lives.

Low-tech College Impact

2009-08-11T19:45:00.000-07:00

Just when I thought the Wake Forest tour was going to be all about fun, food and free wifi, our young guide went off-script to talk about the students she'd met, changes she'd noticed in herself since transfering last semester.

"It's easier to remain focused when you have other students around you that are doing the same things," she said. "It's not embarassing to say you're going to Model U.N. because most likely that friend you're talking to is going to Asia club."

I knew it was true. I'd lived that transformation at UNC-Chapel Hill decades before.

School's In. Let the Fun Begin. Again.

2009-07-28T17:12:00.000-07:00

I'm back at San Francisco State. My own Summer School.

"Branding" has familiar faces. Many of us have zoomed through the Integrated Marketing Certificate program requirements together but we're about to temporarily derail after September waiting for the final class, which is only available in December.

I'll miss it... even when I was younger I'd start counting down the days from July 4th until school started again.

Here's why: Stuff happens at school. Good stuff. Funny stuff. Bad stuff, too.

Summer was a crap shoot.
Sometimes just the lull between endless school story opportunities.

Social Media 101: Choices

2009-07-24T23:53:00.001-07:00

Thanks to my current Intergrated Marketing Internet Tools class, I've been tweeting, updating my LinkedIn Profile, and finally accepting Facebook Friend invites. For days.

Fun. But also time consuming. Which begs the question: Who has time to be e-everywhere and still connect with family, friends and work in the non-virtual world?

Surf for advice and it boils down to this: Figure out who needs to hear from you, where they hang out and go there.

Here's social media guru Brian Person on the subject.

So -- when you're not here, where are you hanging out?

You-Tubular Learning

2009-07-24T00:11:00.000-07:00

I'm back searching for free software tutorials.

This time it's Wordpress, blogging software with CMS capabilities I'm using to create my Client Driven Marketing website. Check it out and you'll see -- right now my website looks like just a regular blog. When I finish, though, it'll be more website-like, complete with pages and navigation bar. Next generation stuff. But that's still a few tutorials away.

Meanwhile, I've got plenty of choices, starting with the 250-item wordpress resource list Ants Magazine posted back in April.

What's YouTube been teaching you lately?

Marketing Hope One Closet at a Time

2009-07-22T23:52:00.000-07:00

TLC's What Not to Wear is the show that gives one style-disaster a free $5000 VISA card shopping spree based on prescribed fashion “rules” in exchange for all her current clothes.

New clothes PLUS fresh haircut PLUS make-up lessons… almost always equals a younger, cuter, slimmer-looking woman who now walks with the confidence of success, someone more in control of her own – !?! now changed !?! – destiny.

We watch. We relate. We learn. And we ask: Could this work for me?

Welcome to Marketing “Hope.”

And our own potentially higher VISA bill.

Alert: Targeting Boomers

2009-07-21T22:17:00.000-07:00

Fact: Many aging Boomer women live alone. They have for some time. And they plan to keep doing that, risks be-damned, right?

Enter Life-Alert with a new twist on an old marketing campaign.

Life Alert 50 Plus: Personal and home security, including video surveillance.

Never mind that the video alone is rich fodder for Saturday Night Live.

Welcome to real-world Client Driven Marketing.

Assuming the decision to target Boomer women living alone is based on market research and not just product development hype.

What do you think... research or hype?

Hacker Search, Social Media Style

2009-07-20T10:49:00.000-07:00

This morning, my son watched the CSI-New York rerun "Cabby Killer," where the killer takes blogger Reed hostage... and then Reed blogs clues to Mac.

Meanwhile... in real time, Ty, the teenager with the popular Ty's iPhone Help website, is tweeting about the FBI and hackers who took down Ty's website a fews days ago.
The hackers deleted everything on Ty's site, redirected traffic to porn, then tried to access PayPal money.

Hackers beware: Ty's tweets are getting serious:

Social media in action. Are you watching it unfold? I'm betting the hackers are, too.

_{Note: Ty's site has now been forwarded to his Twitter page.}

Social Media in the Stitled Forest

2009-07-19T07:18:00.000-07:00

She's fascinating to watch, a silent but mesmerizing pied piper.

The Internet is dotted with "tree lady" sightings, mostly at hotels, casinos and now the San Diego Zoo. Many within the last 8-10 months. Like maybe she's something knew. Perhaps Stilt Circus going "green." I don't know.

What I do know is that Stilt Circus is a Social Media menagerie. Not so silent, web-wise.

Check out the great pics on MySpace
There's more info on Facebook.

Want the Tribe?

Okay -- so stilts aren't your thing.

Perhaps Social Media could be... jump!

Rethinking Pencil Point Marketing

2009-07-18T00:02:00.000-07:00

I get it. It’s shopping, the old-fashioned way. A good thing. Something, worth supporting.

But… a pencil -- standard issue # 2?

This is 2009, the era of client-driven marketing.

Does service really matter to customers purchasing a single pencil? More than convenience, price or fighting the impulse purchase as you push the cart down the school supply aisle at Safeway?

Perhaps it's time to update. Switch out “pencil” for something 2009.

Where on the continuum of 2009 office supply needs would "service" trump all for you?

Something between staple remover and laptop?

Sign of the Times Along California Highway 5

2009-07-17T01:47:00.000-07:00

As California Highway 5 cuts south from 580 along the aqueduct road, for a time numerous signs became zero signs, leaving a stellar view of hills, cows and blue sky.

Then the creep begins. Some small. Others large. Several clustered.

Disappointing Lady Bird's legacy.

Still -- the signs do offer food for thought.

Today this unsolicited highway wisdom, staked into a field north of Newman, also made me smile:

"All is not lost if something flops."

Until... one blink delivered sign #2:

"We buy houses."

Positioned as if it was somehow a welcomed benefit.

Permission Marketing, Clown-style

2009-07-16T02:26:00.001-07:00

It's Seth Godin's Permission Marketing, the Clown-on-BART Edition.

Easy smiles. Free balloons doled out to strangers like Flower Children share marigolds at a rally.

Spreading love.

All the while patient for... the opening.

"What's up?" asks one new friend mid-tunnel, pointing to balloons.

"This is what I do for a living," the clown quickly offers before resuming crowd banter.

He waits until he's exiting BART at Rockridge before zeroing in on new friends-to-new customers conversion:

"I'm Kenny the Clown. kenny-the-clown-dot-com...See me tomorrow at Fisherman's Wharf."

Assignment: Blogging

2009-07-15T20:08:00.000-07:00

There are 20 of us in the 6th floor computer lab overlooking the Docker's Store at San Francisco's Westfield Mall. 20 keyboards click-click-clicking blog posts. Ready or not, everyone suddenly immersed into the land of social media.

That's right -- I have been pushed out of my recent 93words silence by Assignment #1 of SFSU's Internet Marketing Now class, the 3rd class I've taken this summer towards earning the SJSU Internet Marketing Certificate, part of my re-entry into the work world plan.

Daily posts. 12 days. Inspired or not.

Are you ready?

When Target Markets Easter

2009-03-20T00:07:00.001-07:00

They cost slightly more than 76 cents a head -- literally. At Target, $2.29 buys 3 hollow Batman head "treat" containers. For Easter.

"Remember the "Jesus is my Superhero" Sunday School theme - what better post-craft activity than a Batman head hunt?

Like Sunday school edge? Go with theme #2: "Sacrifice one for the Team."

Cars? Theme #3 is perfect: "Win the Race to Jesus."

It's Christmas Stocking meets Birthday Party Favor Bag, with buyers trying to match egg-shape to kid personality, current interests.

Like it's critical to the Easter experience.

Does Forbes "Influential Twitterer" List Fuel Spam?

2009-03-19T17:07:00.001-07:00

Study Forbes' Most Influential Twitterers but think before signing up -- these huge "Follower" lists may attract back-door “direct mail” advertisers.

Me? I clicked “follow” on several. Almost immediately, Twitter emailed – "new followers" for me.

That felt good for the same 3.4 seconds it takes to figure why you got the jewelry "party" invite.

What now?

#1 -- “Block” rogue Followers, an easy Twitter tool.

# 2 -- “Follow” sparingly. Know the best Re-tweets. Lurk via twitter.com.

Real solution:

Curtail Ads ... Or Catch next Rave. This one’s getting noisy.

Career Sense amid the World Wide Rave

2009-03-18T02:47:00.001-07:00

It’s a welcome moment of career clarity.

Caught by David Meerman Scott’s “World Wide Rave,” my planned corporate re-entry should be as Corporate Storyteller, Information Packager, Brand Journalist, Narrative Marketer, or whatever new moniker next pops up.

It’s a job that requires social media enthusiasm, feature writing flair, editorial confidence, freelance-honed creativity, real-world business acumen, marketing know-how… and a decade of corporate client management experience to best leverage the rest. My background.

No lie.

Think free e-book, coming soon. Possible blog spin-off.

One small rave should do the trick.

I.C.U. -- But Now I don't

2009-03-17T14:24:00.001-07:00

There’s an immediate kinship among I.C.U. patient families, everyone living hospital-staged dramas, individuals cast in supporting roles of various ranks.

Between 2-at-a-time bedside visits, I.C.U. sentinels befriend one another in the waiting room, chat by the elevators, share cafeteria breakfast tables. Personal concerns, blended.

Everyone flung into the same leaky lifeboat.

Yesterday, I received Dad’s post-surgery thank-you-for-being-there note. More than anything, I felt lucky. Ours was a happy ending.

But it made me wonder – what about those we’d left in the I.C.U. ...

Did they make it to shore?

Testing Information Confidence

2009-03-16T14:11:00.000-07:00

Information Confidence:

Ability to find -- and use -- the right information.

What my teenager knew – midnight, Saturday:

(1) He’d left calculator under Oakland school desk after SATs - not his school
(2) Classroom number
(3) Teacher’s name on blackboard – not proctor
(4) Guy next to him played on school's basketball team, recognized proctor

Within minutes my son emailed teacher and principal, and identified basketball player (alas, no Facebook address)

Sunday, Principal emails “you can look” 8am Monday meeting offer.

Result: Calculator found, still under the desk.

How did you leverage your Information Confidence to solve a problem today?

Part of the Rave

2009-03-15T15:17:00.001-07:00

It started with needing Air -- a break from Dad's hospital room. A walk to George Washington University’s bookstore.

Marketing fun-read.

Dad goes home. Back in California, I log onto David Meerman Scott's blog and tap free World Wide Rave download.

I resuscitate twitter account, tweet about free book and am immediately Re-Tweeted.

Now feeling "social," I decide to "follow" more. I add Patti Digh. She's just FollowFriday’d @CCSeed. (Richard Reeve).

Reeve’s top post today? Scott's Rave presentation format at SXSW Interactive Conference. Yesterday.

Dizzy? Or... are you used to riding Raves?

Social Media Means No More Excuses

2009-03-13T20:21:00.000-07:00

Using iPod Touch as Kindle, I've just read World Wide Rave, by David Meerman Scott, downloadable free through Sunday.

It's a rally cry to tap low-cost social media as soft-sell communication tool, fostering relationships with would-be clients/customers by offering important information, free -- thereby building credibility and crowd-sourced internet buzz. All of which translates into business success while diluting traditional media and deep advertising budget power.

True -- social media has amazing potential.

But what about this: Now when our ideas fail, products languish, careers stall... who's left to blame?

_{Note: Sorry for the silence. Excuses... unacceptable.}

Signs of Home

2008-12-23T16:21:00.001-08:00

Four signs along Silverado Drive, and then no more. As if you had to know now where to go, or miss it.

So we searched up the street, and down, finally picking the correct turn, into a cul-de-sac.
The signs reminded me of a United cross-country flight I once took to Dulles. My parents and I had agreed -- I'd take the shuttle bus. But they were waiting near baggage claim. I smiled -- home at last. It didn't matter that we still had another 25 minute car ride to go.

Christmas Crafted Cheer

2008-12-16T14:02:00.001-08:00

I don't remember it looking so funky.

The twig tree craft was extra holiday insurance the year we traveled, eliminating tree-turned-fire-hazard house sitter risk.

Funky, yes. But politically correct "green" before its time thanks to recycled products. Plus... the big upside:

Stop to craft Christmas cheer and the craziness of holiday preparation slows to the pace of a bending wire, a warming glue gun, a pin attaching a pattern to a bit of felt. Traffic becomes passing fabric pens, scissors and fabric glue.

That, and stove-brewed hot chocolate? Priceless.

3 Nativities and a Camel

2008-12-15T21:44:00.000-08:00

Nestled under the decorated corner pine, it's one family's tradition neighbors expect to share. Just try to find someone who remembers when it wasn't there.

Simple -- yet attractive -- molded-plastic design.

"It's surprising no one ever steals it," someone said a few days ago. And yet, I'm not surprised. Are you?

Meanwhile, a few miles away, another faux nativity greeted arrivals to the Methodist church's bi-annual "Bethlehem Market" production.

Groups flowed through the market vendors, winding towards that familiar scene, cast this time with teens.

The camel? Kazzy -- a therapeutic camel, manger moonlighting.

Miracle Humor @ Lafayette Town Hall

2008-12-11T23:52:00.000-08:00

Risky, this long term fan of Maureen's O'Hara's 1947 Christmas classic taking in Lafayette Town Hall's Miracle on 34th Street production.

Surprise -- strong community theater cast delivering familiar lines brings back movie scene memories where simplistic props might fail.

Extra credit for ingenuity -- Alfred (Santa wannabe) is M.I.A., replaced by new vision of Doris Walker's office assistant, primed with hilarious one-liners.

So... let's forgive Doris' Christmas morning junior high sewing class disaster, ill-fitted sleeveless black bodice with Christmas plaid sateen Barbie-doll full skirt.

Just know... Hollywood heads would roll.

Not Everybody Eats Pie

2008-11-29T14:46:00.001-08:00

Our New Thanksgiving, bookended by gospel music...

and trade show magic...

...produced sights, sounds and impressions -- family story fodder.

The Auto Show? 3 boys PLUS Dad. Mom with new camera. Oddly perfect.

Biggest "re-traditioning" lesson? Not everybody eats pie.

At least, not in the traditional holiday-at-home way. True in the suburbs, it's easiest to verify in the city.

People were everywhere -- playing, eating, volunteering, working. Perhaps, for some, a Thanksgiving time-out. So what. At that moment they were cast in San Francisco's Thanksgiving scene. So were we.

Expect repeat performances.

2 Days to a New Thanksgiving

2008-11-25T23:48:00.000-08:00

Turkey Surprise is no longer just a Friday leftover.
While I've been focused on New, my husband has been studying Safeway's Thanksgiving brochure the way students scour Cliff Notes.

TIP C -- Foil mittens.

Planned, prepped, and even roasted -- we're ready for our first New Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving

Thursday: Serve turkey at Glide Memorial followed by a family walk through the Tommy's Joynt food line and a SF afternoon.

Tonight: Man vs. turkey.

Tomorrow: Dinner in the dining room with everyday dishes when Campo's gym lights go out, somewhere around 9:30 p.m.

Life lessons? Many.

Shirts, signs and cheap solutions

2008-11-23T23:52:00.000-08:00

The hidden costs of varsity sports just begins with the apparel form. But I drew the line at expensive posters.

I spied the answer on my player's bedroom floor -- potential for colorful, cute, AND cheap.

The key was keeping the final design to tabloid size. Kinko's starts those sized color copies at less than $2. One inch bigger jumps you to the big color copier. Then you have to get out the calculator -- and your bigger bills. Pricing is per square foot.

Total cost? 4 for under $10.

Each a winner.

Beat those odds.

Musical Gym Rats

2008-11-22T01:59:00.001-08:00

It always feels like we see the same people in the gym all the time. Not the same KIND of people. The EXACT SAME people. Basketball people. Doesn’t matter if we’re at Campolindo, Tice Valley, Diablo Valley Community College, Reno or San Diego.

Last night as we left DVC, though, a crowd of bus-weary Southern California high school kids with sleeping bags poured into the gym. Today, WBA 2008 band championships begin.

So, there it is. We’re not all the same. Some gym rats play instruments. Apparently, they come out at night.

The Promise, a movie

2008-11-20T12:57:00.001-08:00

Craig Cooper's 1980's Peace Corps memory lodged in my heart, then morphed in my brain as trailer for would-be feature film titled, The Promise.

Do the chores. I won't pay you now. But if you stay in school and finish high school... I'll pay for college or help you build a house.

Two willing Bahn teens. One earnest college grad.

Zero war contingency.

Years pass. Decades of silence.

Liberian, googling. Surprised engineer. Third-world taxi. Wherever the script begins, it'll lead to three men, reconnected. $5,000. New homes. Satisfaction.

The Promise, fulfilled. Finally.

Knowing Pains -- Stories for all

2008-11-16T23:58:00.000-08:00

I bought Knowing Pains, an essay anthology marketed as "by and for" women in their 40's, because of Maria Hjelm's essay about the loss of her mother, Just a Blip.

Hearing it reminded me of my mother's raw pain at the recent loss of her mother.

Love. Loss. Sex. Self-awareness. Friendships. These experiences transcend age.

Swap stories with women of varied generations and you'll see -- we are more alike than different.

Don't let the cover-hype age you out.

These are new voices worth hearing.

Helping support breast cancer education? An added bonus.

Digital Leaps

2008-11-13T09:15:00.000-08:00

The hardest part of replacing my stolen point and shoot camera was circling Best Buy's digital camera island, deciphering pros and cons, needs versus wants. How much should -- could -- I spend beyond insurance proceeds to get camera technology I want (I mean... need) compared to the money USAA said would replace 4-year-old technology?

The Canon G10 was a leap of faith. Great features will work even better once I upgrade my computer. That's going to wait.

Welcome to IF YOU GIVE A MOUSE A NEW DIGITAL CAMERA in a TOUGH ECONOMY.

Carolina on my mind

2008-11-10T21:12:00.000-08:00

Remember when I Photoshopped Stanford football game moments into Carolina memories? Well, the REAL THING arrived in my inbox yesterday.

A stadium blanket of Carolina blue against a canvas of matching sky, Bell Tower, and autumn trees. Perfect. Just like I remember.
Still... the picture falls short. It's hiding the #1 reason I would have flown in for the game. She's behind the camera.

Windy. College roommate. Bridesmaid. One son's Godmother. Friend for nearly 30 years.

To think it started in 403 Cobb Dorm, the result of a random Department of Housing lottery.

Monitor Survival

2008-11-09T14:00:00.000-08:00

It happened overnight. I hit SEND, then went to bed. By morning, my in-box held the key.

Do you think April Austin, The Christian Science Monitor's then Homefront Editor, knew her email had opened the door -- my first published clip, a toe-dip into the world of national journalism, circa 2000? Back when print editions were king.

The century-old Monitor has just announced a strategic shift. Their future? Primarily on-line. Their daily paper? Gone mid-2009.

A defining moment, a bold attempt to hold on. To survive.

Brave, it might work. I hope so.

Putting it out there

2008-11-07T17:47:00.000-08:00

"I really love homemade cards," I hinted not so subtly to my family earlier this week.

And it worked -- my 12-year-old went all out.

But when it came my turn to craft a card, I balked. I couldn't imagine what I could make -- or buy -- that would say what I wanted to say to our family's friend whose cancer has returned.

Instead, I reached for stationary.

No scissors. No glue stick. No markers.

Not a single sticker.

It was heart to pen to paper, just the truth:

Love and a prayer.

Bookmark Show and Tell

2008-11-04T00:21:00.000-08:00

I’ve never been one to “own” lots of music -- LP’s or cassettes or CDs. Even my iPod holds mostly podcasts.

I prefer to let radio stations surprise me.

Now, though, I have a growing music collection "Bookmarked" on my iMAC. Low-budget YouTube.com videos. Original songs not yet on the radio, but – who knows – might be some day. I certainly wish the artists luck.

Anyway, here's my current favorite - Reina DelCid's Come Back Over.

Friendship. Love. Regret. Second chances. What's not to like?

So... what's caught your ear on Youtube? Anything worth bookmarking?

twilight and the real teen trackers

2008-11-01T11:59:00.001-07:00

Even if vampires aren't your thing, I defy you to ignore twilight, Hollywood's adaptation of Stephanie Meyer's New York Times Bestseller, scheduled for Thanksgiving week release amid already escalating hype.

I'm late on the scene of this 2005 teen read. I finished Twilight on Halloween, moments before 6 high school co-eds returned from trick-or-treating with my middle son. The girls nearly swooned at the book's cover.

"Don't you just looooove Edward Cullen?"

Vampires have nothing on marketers. Teenaged girls, though --- there's an economic force impossible to ignore.

But go ahead -- try.

One pirate's final story

2008-10-31T23:51:00.000-07:00

It must have had its moments. Think of the stories, the children, the smiles.

Perhaps the person who put this pirate creature into the dumpster by the community center's preschool felt a twinge of remorse.

Why else would it be propped in full-regret, like it doesn't quite understand, shouldn't it be in the big basket near the picture book corner?

Or is it that, now resigned to walking this plank, its eyes are cast on the rest of us: Don't we see what's happening, it seems to ask, will we do nothing?

Lidge Seizes More than Series

2008-10-29T21:58:00.000-07:00

I’ve aged out of claiming to know any current professional athlete because we went to college together.

I have to jump generations, to someone like my husband’s cousin’s son, a guy I met maybe once, more than a decade ago. Someone I’m confident can’t pick me out in the Safeway checkout line.

Still… when anyone says, “Brad’s pitching,” I tune in.
“I don’t care about that other crap,” said Lidge, after he clinched the World Series tonight. “This is it right here.”

And I smiled because he’s right –- in more ways than one.

Re-traditioning: 31 Days to a new Thanksgiving

2008-10-27T13:12:00.000-07:00

There are probably 739 reasons why we’ve held tightly to celebrating Thanksgiving at Aunt Caroline’s house in Southern California, my Thanksgiving tradition since 1986.

Yet this tradition that survived marriage, children, even our relocation to the Bay Area in 1999, proved no match for high school sports. Already, we’ve celebrated two Thanksgivings without our oldest son.

This year? No family road trip.

We’re re-traditioning. Think re-decorating, only we’re considering Thanksgiving alternatives, everything from recipes to community service.

Having shaken the Thanksgiving Etch-a-Sketch clear, we’ve got 31 days to make a new picture.

Your ideas?

Burglary Math

2008-10-24T09:54:00.001-07:00

Waiting for my turn to answer questions, I listened to the judge interview other prospective jurors: Is there anything about this? Is there anything about that? Anything about anything that impacts your ability to be impartial in this particular criminal proceeding?

That's when I realized something both obvious and humbling -- everything about September's burglary impacts my ability to be impartial right now. It's still too fresh.

I have been quantifying burglary costs in dollars lost and hours wasted.

There's more to the equation, a growing unknown I'm not sure yet how to measure.

Pre-election Shakes in Martinez

2008-10-23T17:04:00.001-07:00

In a random sidebar to the Martinez beavers vs. Alhambra Creek construction controversy, a moving van stopped at the Election Department warehouse on Marina Vista today.

Good news: The beavers didn't seem to notice. Our furry friends remained hunkered down in their lodge, as expected.

Apparently the construction project is shaking the warehouse, not exactly standard handling procedure for sensitive voting equipment.

No one wants to wake up Election Day faced with a stack of repair orders and a newspaper headline.

Enter the truck, a busy fork lift and various signs to slow traffic.

To Be or Not to Be... The Guy

2008-10-21T17:39:00.001-07:00

On. Off. On. Off. If not The Guy with the smooth dismount, the man seemed determined to at least be The Guy who didn’t fumble the hand-off.

Watching, it made me think of the Reluctant Guy I overheard on Saturday’s flag football field.

Overstaffed, the senior ref told the 15-year-old ref, “Make yourself useful. Pick-up trash. Be. The. Guy.”

“I don’t want to be The Guy,” retorted the younger ref, even as he left to hunt trash. “I don’t even know who The Guy is.”

If not now, I wanted to ask... When?

Second Chance Thanks

2008-10-19T23:44:00.000-07:00

If at this very moment we were at one of those family dinners where everyone has to say one thing that they’re thankful for, I wouldn’t hesitate.

That’s because today I finally got tired of that box under my office desk and took a closer look at all the old disks in it.

Guess what I found?

Moments, large and small, casual and formal. Some random ones, too.
Photos I'd never printed. Photos I thought had fallen victim to long-ago computer crashes.

Today, I'm thankful for second chances.

What are you thankful for?

Alumni Clicks

2008-10-16T23:57:00.000-07:00

Everything about these Stanford alums screams, "Wow, aren't we great!" And why not? They’ve just witnessed Zagory’s extra-point kick, giving Stanford a final-seconds lead over Arizona, clinching the Reunion Weekend win.

Still... that’s a lot of Cardinal pride for one pastel-wearing Tarheel with "Spouse" badge to swallow.

The big take-away?

Red tsunami. Tailgates to match. Remember-when stories. Even the die-hard fan, radio to ear and dressed in questionable plaid.

All that energy fueled something unexpected.

My own sentimental journey.

Back to a more familiar memory.

Go Heels!

Behind Friendly Lines

2008-10-14T15:33:00.000-07:00

Look closely and you’ll see that Kay, who is turning 86 this month, has written her own name on her birthday calendar.

I love that Kay keeps this calendar close at hand, but I have from the start been a little spooked by the way she keeps it up to date: When a friend dies, Kay draws a line through his or her name.

Kay has a different take.

This way, Kay says, she thinks about each of her friends on their birthday.

A line simply reminds her not to send a card.

Digitally challenged Fleet Week

2008-10-13T14:11:00.000-07:00

Dateline: San Francisco. Sunday, Fleet Week.

I missed my stolen camera more yesterday than any other day since the burglary.

I'm currently making do with several digital-camera-generations-ago technology.

My Coolpix775's slower reaction time means what I see isn't always what I get.

Sometimes, that's okay, because what I see lasts long enough that it doesn't matter, like this mother-pilot moment.

Sometimes I get something better, like this stranger's spontaneous salute that seemed to sum up how we all felt about the day.

The rest? Essence shots. Memory joggers only.

Mission Refocus

2008-10-09T23:54:00.000-07:00

Our 6th grader worried when our friend and neighbor asked him to introduce her oldest son at the middle school's Fleet Week presentation.

"I'm going to get the rep of that kid who announced some other guy at an assembly," Scotty told me.

Captain Russell Piggot, the Air Force's current West Coast F-16 demonstration pilot, offered a fresh spin.

"You won't be the kid who introduced another kid," said Piggot, a not-so-long-ago student at the same middle school.

"You'll be the guy who's friends with the Fighter Pilot."

Mission complete.

Museum Evolution

2008-10-07T23:50:00.001-07:00

It’s as if the Smithsonian and Monterey Bay Aquarium had a fling, and we just met their love child.

Familiar -- only hipper.

For all that hip-ness, the California Academy of Sciences is less revolutionary than evolutionary. The logical next step among many steps museums have been taking for decades.

Steps in a direction I first witnessed in 1976 when I walked into the National Air and Space Museum shortly after it opened.

Education meets entertainment...

When it works, it doesn’t just catch your attention. It holds it. And that’s what happened tonight.

Pixelated family stories

2008-10-05T23:28:00.000-07:00

FACTS:

Sunny afternoon.

Pappy and Marie.

Fresno, Caifornia.

1940's.

When Aunt Ila gave me this picture of my great grandparents, I immediately fell for its after-church weekly family potluck feel.

Simple food. Mismatched servers. Potato salad covered with wax paper anchored by sauerkraut jar. Next Sunday -- who'll fry chicken?

Nice story. Wrong reality.

"Our family didn't get together all the time back then," Uncle Tommy says. "Not like now."

That means special occasion: Birthday. Serviceman's homecoming.

Maybe...
christening? --->

<------
Church explains why Marie looks overdressed for backyard burgers.

Play along. What's your idea?

Woo Wisdom for New Age Moderation

2008-10-03T16:48:00.001-07:00

As a child of the Depression, Kay says she didn’t focus on economic woes: "Kids just know how they live."
But think how kids today have BEEN living -- how do we break the fall?

Enter the Wisdom of Anna Woo:

Don't Offer.

It's a parent's mantra in the making: Stop impulse gifts, need presumptions. Keep your mouth shut, your VISA in your wallet. Meet real needs. Maybe wishes. But wait for kids to ask. Then decide – yes or no. Start today. Save for tomorrow.

Anna told Alison. Alison told me. Pass the word.

Gladys Kravitz Alert

2008-09-28T14:40:00.001-07:00

In these post-burglary days, I mostly have moments of clarity.

Yesterday, though, I morphed into full-blown Gladys Kravitz, famed Bewitched neighborhood nuisance.

I'd spied an unfamiliar woman who’d been sitting at our intersection's curb for an hour, eyes on traffic flow, cellphone in hand. I guess she saw me – I mean, really, how could she not? I had pulled out a camera.

She apologized for spooking me, that she’d heard from her friend -- another neighbor -- about the burglary, knew it was fresh on my mind.

Right about then, the AAA truck arrived.

Madame Kitzes and the Language Barrier

2008-09-26T15:40:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting in Beginning Spanish but the voice in my head is Madame Kitzes, my high school French teacher.

Thanks to Madame, much of what Señora Joseph teaches about verb conjugation, gender agreement and numbers feels familiar.

Learning Spanish isn’t going be difficult, right?
Then it's my turn to answer a homework problem.

I open my mouth and "los libros interesantes" comes out like I'm a bumbling tourist in Paris. Rusty high school French pronunciation.

Señora Joseph's eyes widen. Her head shakes. So does mine.

Oh. No.

Madame: Que faire maintenant?

Writers on Writing -- Marketing Hope

2008-09-25T13:47:00.000-07:00

My favorite example of "marketing hope" is the publishing industry's onslaught on would-be authors anxious to trade day-job cash for holy grail secrets -- how to write better, pitch editors, make a living as a writer.

My bookshelf has its share, some purchased full retail, but most bought for $2 or less at library used book sales.

Some sales are better stocked than others. Unusual and interesting titles. Popular choices.

Like the offerings at Saturday's Friends of the Lafayette Library sale.

Good news for me. But I wonder ...

Did someone give up?

Annie Barrows: One Storyteller's Truth

2008-09-22T23:40:00.001-07:00

Recently, at Friends of the Lafayette Library's Sweet Thursday Literary Salon, Annie Barrows, co-author of The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society (#3 - NY Times Bestseller List), shared tales about her aunt, Mary Ann Shaffer, the story’s now deceased original author.

A long-time living room storyteller, Shaffer's turn of phrase was legendary.

Favorite quote …

Barrows, on how she’d addressed rewrites successfully, despite joining the project late, after Shaffer’s cancer diagnosis:

“I knew how (my aunt) told a story because she’d been telling me stories since before I knew they were stories.”

Home Invaded -- Key Repairs

2008-09-20T13:26:00.001-07:00

In 1985, this Fichet key opened Apt 5E, 66 Madison Avenue, New York City.

"A pro takes 6 hours to pick it," the locksmith said, 2 hours after the guy who stole my roommate's purse and keys aborted his first attempt to hit the apartment.

This week, one of my sons asked, "Are we going to be okay?"

Insurance replaces things, I told him. But … it’s up to us to rebuild our feeling of security at home. That takes time. We’ll make changes.

We can do this. I promise: I’ve done it before.

Home Invaded -- Neighborhood Watch

2008-09-18T22:39:00.000-07:00

Thieves Beware: Our neighborhood is on to you. We've been talking. Now we're watching. Stay away.

These aren't MY signs, but I'm glad to see news spread, even if it means I'm wearing today's dunce cap, stupid for forgetting to lock a door.

If I'd known about recent burglaries, I'd have double-checked locks.

Just like most of us did tonight.

Can you imagine how those jerks laughed, stealing so easily from so many?

To hell with that.

Information is powerful. Share it. Why should thieves be the only ones in the know?

Home Invaded

2008-09-17T22:17:00.001-07:00

No Lie: Our television was there last night.

But it's gone this morning, along with laptop, game system, camera, more. YES -- STOLEN WHILE WE WERE SLEEPING DOWN THE HALL. Part of a neighborhood early morning plunder, including two stolen cars (not ours).

Quick Lessons:

1. It's easy to feel stupid.

2. Word travels quickly.

3. Everyone asks the same questions: Wasn't your door locked, didn't the dog bark, didn't you hear anything?

4. Each time you answer ... you feel stupid all over again.

MY QUESTION: What if we had woken up?

Those lessons ... could have been brutal.

Wall Street -- New Era, Same King

2008-09-16T02:41:00.001-07:00

We were once desperate to be them --- commercial banks longing for investment bank status. Deals and fees. All the flash.

Reams will be written about the day two Wall Street giants fell. Hollywood is probably already negotiating options.

Will they remember the mid-1980's, when New York corporate bankers retooled to compete head-on with Wall Street?

How we argued with long-standing corporate clients that we were up to the task, investment banking was sexy but credit analysis was still king, we were good at it, and, no, it wouldn’t slow down their deal.

Crowdsourcing and Patti Digh -- Unintended Attention

2008-09-14T17:38:00.001-07:00

Looking in the MEMOIR SECTION for Life is a Verb, Patti Digh's essay collection? Check SELF-HELP, instead.

Me? I'd put copies in REFERENCE, with writing books, and BUSINESS/ECONOMICS, alongside Jeff Howe's Crowdsourcing: Why the Power of the Crowd is Driving the Future of Business.

The book's back-story is a fascinating study in social media meets literary market -- one person’s need to give voice to life-changing epiphany and the growing crowd that keeps ramping up the volume on her microphone.

Details? Start with EllouiseStory's Digh interview, today’s stop on the book's blog tour.

Watered Fowl

2008-09-13T23:53:00.000-07:00

I watched three, maybe four, near-identical GRAB and GO trips, the bird disappearing above roofline each time.
But when the bird grabbed the biggest piece of turkey, GO included a short layover at the fountain. Just enough time to double-dip the piece of turkey into the water.

What do you think: Religious inspiration, or a need to re-grab? Any chance turkey can double as canteen?

Hmmmm.

Perhaps that bird could no longer fight the voice in his head, mama bird's constant musings about germ warfare and the importance of washing dinner.

9/11 ... Patriot Waves

2008-09-11T23:51:00.002-07:00

This growing band of citizen patriots have become a familiar sight on California's El Curtola Bridge since 9/11, when one man held his flag there after the attacks.

As crowds gathered for the 7th anniversary rally, the bridge cast a patriotic blur through my minivan windshield.
Up close, the action zoomed into individual patriot focus.

It reminded me of the tidal wave of patriotism that swamped individual difference in the wake of Sept. 11, when we chose to slosh through muck and mire together, buoyed by the hope of a country music song.

Resume Revival

2008-09-09T22:04:00.000-07:00

Updated your resume lately, done the smell test, checked for expiration dates?

Mine used to tell the tale of a former New York bank vice president turned freelance writer/editor.

Now those finance deals are apparently resume dead, beyond expert-recommended resume freshness standards -- 10 years back, 15 max.

Check out career strategist Marilyn Moats Kennedy's gloves-off advice, Writing a Talking Paper aka a Resume:

"Nobody remembers the late 20th century and nobody cares."

Kill the back-story?

Let's see ... Current communications professional, relevant skills.

Has your story changed?

Lost Ends

2008-09-05T23:04:00.001-07:00

Neighbors post alerts about dogs and cats, missing pets named Popcorn or Rocky or -- no lie -- Vince.

Always, there's the plea: Help.

Then days go by. Fliers yellow. Edges curl.

Are we still looking, I wonder. Is Muffin home?

Thursday night, though, news spread by police-activated computer voice to every telephone in the neighborhood.

Lost: 80-year-old, suffers from dementia, needs medication. Check your front and back yards.

Such high stakes seemed to deserve follow-up:

Thanks, we found him ... OR ... Search parties forming.

But ... the phone didn't ring.

Good sign?

Success for All

2008-09-03T13:06:00.000-07:00

Patricia Henley’s new Glimmer Train essay, The Potholder Model of Literary Ambition, isn’t just another take on the writing life, one author’s ups and downs and lessons learned.

It’s really about you and me, those of us with preconceived notions of success, whether we’re writers or bankers or school bus drivers.

Henley reminds us: Look in the mirror. Ask yourself what you like to do even when no one’s looking, no one’s paying, no one else cares.

Make time for that and life is good. Success is yours.

So ... what's on your list?

Private Fun, Public Art

2008-09-01T11:38:00.000-07:00

Was it slow-growth yard decor, one new birdhouse each year since 1982, two that summer they flew to Hawaii?

Or ...is it the grandma-likes-birdhouses safety gift, a misunderstanding gone wild that started when she mentioned one might look nice out front, near the trail?

Does it matter?

This birdhouse village is now private collection turned low-budget public art, a whimsical walking trail conversation starter.

Love it or hate it, part of the landscape.

Just like this eclectic porch display a few miles away.

What's on view in your neighborhood?

Green is my Afghan

2008-08-30T12:32:00.000-07:00

My turn came after Grandma Lulu finished the ones for my parents and older siblings.

Bright greens to match my room, the afghan lived on my bed until I moved with it to college.

After graduation, it was on to New York and then Los Angeles and, in 1999, to Northern California.

Life-worn, the afghan is courser now, a bit stained. But when I cuddle in it, I feel what I felt that first time, what I've always felt --

Hugged.

So I reached for it yesterday when news quickly spread -- Lulu had died.

Proof in The Picture

2008-08-27T22:39:00.000-07:00

This is The Picture, the stair-step sibling shot we took every first day of school.

It's the picture we took at holidays and graduations and that summer everyone met in Sedona. And it's the one we'll take at the next family reunion.

Documented proof -- three siblings, growing older, sharing life milestones.

But ... wait: See that shadow on the left, someone squinting through an Instamatic's viewfinder?

That's who we saw in 1965, and it's who we've seen nearly every time we've posed for The Picture.

Mom, camera in hand, making sure we'll remember.

New Year's Day

2008-08-26T10:48:00.000-07:00

Forget January 1st. For us, the first day of school is the real New Year's Day.

That school bell rings in new faces and new schedules -- wholesale changes, not just new Daytimer pages.

The largest backpack in the world can't contain the collective campus excitement of that first morning of the first day of the school year, when everyone -- students, teachers, parents, and even the vice principal in charge of discipline -- smiles.

I hugged my middle schooler and said, "Have a great day."

But what I really meant was,
"Have a great year."

Squeezably Trashed

2008-08-23T15:02:00.000-07:00

A near-professional job, it made drivers slow, walkers point, bikers dismount.

When teens live on tree-lined streets in neighborhoods where refusing to finance ring tones constitutes "mean" parenting, rolling houses isn't an unusual boredom antidote.

But the surprise still smarts, particularly if the doorbell wakes you at 1:23 a.m.

How many families are down dozens of two-ply rolls? When they reach for those now-empty shelves, will parents connect dots and ask questions ... or ... simply head back to Costco, happy it's such a harmless thing, not like really stealing?

Time Traveled

2008-08-21T23:19:00.000-07:00

You get more, traveling cross-country by train than by plane: More views. More meals. And more stories to tell when you pull into the station. No question, Amtrak's California Zephyr stars as my vacation's highlight.

But trains take more, too ... more time. Between here and Chicago? About 49 hours more.

So ... Tuesday I buckled into a middle seat, book in hand.

Vacation was over. School starts loomed.

There was suddenly no place like home, and no better way to ruby-slipper there than a jet.

Chasing the sunset? Just an unexpected bonus.

Family Text

2008-08-18T14:51:00.000-07:00

Kayak, nets and buckets: What more do cousins need to explore lily pad waters, spending our summer vacation’s last lakeside day together, living a memory that will probably resurface as family story.

When they retell the tale at some future family dinner, I might throw my own stories in the mix – summer days spent in Maryland’s Rock Creek Park.

Today, though, I said nothing, happy to watch them leave cell phones in the boathouse.

Okay – so what if they text-message friends tonight?

Next week, they might just try text-messaging one another.

Off the Shelf

2008-08-17T20:12:00.000-07:00

It was one among many vacation reads hastily purchased off the used book sales shelf at the library.

Comfort Me with Apples, by Ruth Reichl, was a potentially risky choice – restaurant critic’s memoir for non-foody me. But I liked the title.

The story quickly grabbed, holding tight until I gulped back tears at its final scene.

I might have been less surprised if I had studied book cover details –- numerous awards, notable praise.

Instead, I gambled $2 and won.

Now I'm back to the pile ...

How did you pick your summer books?

A Different Take

2008-08-16T19:57:00.000-07:00

We call it Plum Lake, and this picture tells the story why.

I took dozens of near identical sunset photos before a boat motored mid-lake, its wake exploding the view into a watery kaleidoscope.

How easy it is to focus on the negative impact a single action can have on experience – the “if only” that proceeds “it would have been perfect.”

Yet this wake had transformed my sunset view into something that was, if not better, then equally terrific, just different.

Did the boat's captain know that he'd done such a wondrous thing?

Reading Signs

2008-08-14T20:04:00.000-07:00

In northern Wisconsin, where lakes stay frozen through April, businesses work hard to attract summer traffic, postings signs, big and small.

But the sign that grabbed me was a two-sided country churchyard one.

It made me smile.

Then, unexpectedly, its words encouraged a drive to another local church -– my faith.

That’s where I spied this sports car parked across two front-entry spaces, including one pastor-reserved.

Perhaps the parish had voted that it somehow improved parishioner pedestrian flow.

Without context, though, the parking job read like a not-so-good sign.

Moon River Musings

2008-08-11T09:39:00.001-07:00

Most rafters wave, but some bare their bottoms, a tradition so popular railroaders now call the Colorado . . . Moon River.

Is there a Grandpa somewhere who tells the tale each Thanksgiving -- that long-ago summer afternoon, Buddy Watson’s dare and how they both laughed so hard Buddy face-planted into the water? Or do rafting guides perched on pub stools still debate where and when Colorado train mooning began.

Either way, here’s MY question:

How does a once-upon-a-time group prank grow into Colorado River’s 7th Inning Stretch, a near daily Amtrak photo-op?

_{Editor's note: Photos taken through a moving train's windows can look a bit like five-dollar jigsaw puzzles...but the images are real.}

Tasteless in the Dining Car

2008-08-09T10:05:00.001-07:00

The Mississippi River flooded Iowa farmland in June, drowning train tracks and curtailing California Zephyr service.

But Amtrak quickly rebuilt, this time above flood level. Service resumed, safer, only with a different view.

“Take a look at Iowa’s new beach front property,” one dining car worker laughed, as we rattled across the new tracks.

Not funny.

Cruel even.

Yet … would we have smirked if the joke had been served Letterman-style in our family rooms, our toes slipper-warm?

All I know is none of us rebuffed the comedian. Instead … we took pictures.

_{Editor's note: Photos taken through a moving train's windows can look a bit like five-dollar jigsaw puzzles...but the images are real.}

America by Train

2008-08-08T10:11:00.001-07:00

Sorry for the silence.

I've been riding the rails, traveling cross-country Amtrak's California Zephyr style.

Roomette living. Dining car meals. Reading lounge miles.

Think Bing Crosby's classic, White Christmas.

Our song is NOT an empty promise. America really is BEAUTIFUL. But we hide undeniable realities by the tracks -- our poor, acres of broken cars, trash. And, this summer, corn fields under flood water.

Trip highlights? Many. Conversation leads the list -- new friends, Amtrak employees and, best of all, my traveling companion -- my 14-year-old son.

Details and pictures soon to follow.

Second Chance Hope

2008-08-02T08:26:00.000-07:00

Two chairs sat curbside on Thursday, each alone, two miles from one another. Old-fashioned and life-worn, both were marked FREE, a near-prayer to entice a home.

But ... no takers.

Would they have better luck together, yet another older couple, newly coupled?

Like the widow and widower who've now aged more similar than different. The couple that laughs that they'd never have noticed one another in the City in 1951. Yet here at the Senior Village in 2008, they cuddle -- content for the first time this decade.

Happy, even. And ... loved.

M.I.A. Flash Back

2008-08-01T15:32:00.000-07:00

The rules are clear: Pay, and OfficeMax releases the CompactFlash card from plastic-box prison.

I just didn't expect it to then jump bail.

It's weird when something disappears.

Weirder, 37 minutes and 4 miles later, when you notice and call, becoming the latest break-room joke.

But try driving back to find that CompactFlash where you never took it -- on Aisle 3, alone in a cart. Even though you asked four store clerks first.

"Someone probably thought it was a go-back," one explained.

With no plastic box?

That's more than weird.

High Stakes Algebra

2008-07-30T12:00:00.000-07:00

In the category of "I told you so" research, this just in: People who walk errands typically weigh less.

Since 1981, my Walk Score has plummeted from New York City sneaker-brigade 100 (out of 100) to minivan-me 17.

Click for your Walk Score

True, Walk Score is a generalized index, need-focused with no jogging credit, limited to Google-imposed definitions that mean 7-11 counts as "grocery" store.

But facts are facts. And here are mine: My score is down and my weight is ... up.

The solution? That's on me. Again.

One Crazy Question

2008-07-28T22:19:00.000-07:00

Surfing channels, I landed on 1959's boy-meets-girl beach classic, Gidget.

Familiar fluff, hokey happily ever after stuff. With sappy music.

Except this forgotten scene:

As war vet turned surf-bum Kahoona walks with Gidget along the shoreline, Gidget asks this "one crazy question" about his life style:

"What if you could go back ... what if something happened ... and you could choose all over again?"

Oh. My. God. Gidget food for 2008 thought.

Real friends ask tough questions. Offer hope, alternate endings.

That's not fluff. Or hokey. Nor slightly sappy.

Just classic.

Etched Hope

2008-07-27T01:19:00.000-07:00

Weathered and worn, Martinez Fishing Pier intersects the Carquinez Strait where trains, boats, cars and planes do, making its view a would-be Richard Scarry Transportation Town.

Yesterday, though, I was into words.

God Loves You

I thought what I thought when I read it from an airplane, letters carved into field grass. What I thought when it was painted on hillside rocks.

I know, thanks. But ... Why. Are. You. Shouting?

Then I saw the tiny letters inserted mid-message: "doES NOT"

Whispered despair?

Angry spit?

Maybe, proof ... Some people remain hard of hearing.

Storied Truth

2008-07-25T15:48:00.000-07:00

It's 1981, and I'm on a quest, literary-like.

573 solo sedan miles, the promised rendez-vous before I move to New York. Without him.

Peril pervades -- broken car, lost driver's license.

Then ... the cliff-edged snake, mountain parkway engulfed in heavy fog. I slow, gulp Tab, fantasize my fate:

Dead at 21, one trail clue -- 4:42 p.m., Ed's Market, soda.

But I live.

Shaken, I rebuff his first hungry kiss, half Granny-up -- settle, sip beer, cross-stitch.

Yes. Gnomes. No symbolism.

The lesson? My needs sometimes trump his wants, our love.

Khuri '47 -- Is it you, Pauline?

2008-07-23T23:03:00.001-07:00

In a perfect Web 2.0 world, I'd already know. But the watercolor is pre-Internet, a recent estate sale find.

So instead, I'm Gretel gathering Google crumbs, churning them into cyber leaps, emails to strangers, long time colleagues of Pauline Khuri-Majoli, Art Professor Emeritus of Loyola Marymount University, retired since the eighties. My best guess at Khuri's identity.

Emails that boil down to this: Please help. I mean no harm. I'm just looking for color, the story behind the painting, its artist.

I hit SEND, a virtual serve, and wonder: Will someone play?

Obit Class

2008-07-22T13:13:00.001-07:00

They show up every few days: Homespun life-stories, women of a certain age who succeeded against the odds, now gone.

Mid-obit, gloves come off. Intimidating. Strong-willed. Judgemental. Unexplained wounds elbow Mom's deals done, passionate pursuits, homemaker honors.

It's as if to say: Sure, the resume shines and she was quite the hostess -- but what about us? We had to live with it all, with her, for God's sake. Can you imagine?

Silenced, there is no retort. Until now:

So ... Mom held you to the same bar as she held herself?

Shameful.

Devil in the Eggs

2008-07-21T13:35:00.000-07:00

Eyes forward to the counter but ears tuned to the table behind, I listen. Two men banter -- WWII food memories transition to today.

One needs a haircut. Apparently, happens often: "My grandfather had curly hair, curlier than Mo."

"You sure do have pretty hair for your age," says the other.

"It's the only thing that's left," half-laughs the first.

"Yes. You have good hair and lousy teeth. I have great teeth and lousy hair."

Breakfast over, I see proof: Thick and wavy, silver gray. Beautiful. Really. For any age.

Which would you choose?

We'll Always Have Monday

2008-07-20T12:04:00.000-07:00

Thanks to WORDPLAY, the LFC documentary about the New York Times Crossword Puzzle, I've been tackling the beast. Again.

Back when I lived in NYC, I never filled in all the boxes. But Monday, my 6th grader and I came close. We figured:

On to Tuesday, Wednesday, even Thursday. By then we'd reworked the answer:

I'd forgotten the progression -- the puzzle starts Monday, kitten-like, then builds to Sunday's monster. Today's puzzle? A nightmare.

On-line, though, it's puzzles-for-all. Archives. Mondays, back to 1996.

Perfect.

Renewed Views

2008-07-17T22:18:00.001-07:00

Pitch it, I tell Windy, silent that my nieces once played in her bridesmaid choice, length lopped.

I hunt for pictures but find Windy's "Dear Girls" letter, a wedding what's what, sometimes by the hour:

4:30, Saturday: Guess what? We are going to dress at the church. It is fun that way and everyone looks fresh and "just pressed!"

And the swatch -- sent so shoes would match.

Together, more powerful than Kodak.

I am back ... at the Carolina Inn, twenty-three, grown-up and little all at once, awe-struck. My friend, married. The first.

Story Bets

2008-07-16T13:58:00.001-07:00

Today's San Francisco Chronicle highlights a teen-produced documentary about Class of '81 Oakland teens credited with making Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday a California state holiday.

The film project started after Nick Parker, then 16, challenged a stranger to tell a story that would inspire him. That stranger had taught those Oakland kids.

Everyone knows stories can inspire. The question is -- when do they inspire?

Do we sprinkle stories and pray for germination? Or wait ... for the right moment, the right someone?

Maybe it's best to hedge. Try both. See what sticks.

Water Refreshment

2008-07-14T00:36:00.001-07:00

I was returning to my towel, having used the hotel's bathroom, even though I wasn't a guest, when I spied the seagull. Walking along the hotel spa pool's otherwise deserted deck, it took a gentle hop-of-a-flight into a fresh-water glide.

If the bird noticed me, she didn't flinch. Perhaps she felt as I did: At that moment we had more in common with each other than I had with any hotel guest that might wander by.

Certainly, she was in no danger of my giving away her secret pond.

Beach Sights

2008-07-13T23:38:00.001-07:00

It's high beach season.

It makes no difference whether you wear Hotel Del Coronado kaki and white...

... or tired workman's chinos.

To earn a living at the beach, the time to hustle is now. Have you noticed?

It's a hobby of mine, studying "invisible" workers: Clearing clutter, refilling vending machines, power washing piers, even trolling for empty cans and lost treasure. Useful work most vacationers take for granted. Workers we fail to see.

Okay -- perhaps I am too harsh.

It's true. This weekend, two vacationers did notice.

Two
others
even
joined
the
ranks.

Lucky Left

2008-07-11T00:05:00.001-07:00

Not on any of the beach maps our hotel gave us, Tourmaline Surfing Park is the kind of spot locals love to keep a secret.

Today, impatience steered us to this sandy scallop embraced by coastal cliffs.

,
Already, we'd driven nine hours to San Diego. 45 minutes after hotel check-in, friends filled the mini-van to capacity and we set out for a quick pre-dinner beach hit. But the maps proved hard to read.

"Let's just turn left," I said, seeing shoreline a block west.

Proof -- once again -- luck is sometimes the better navigator.

Pear Down

2008-07-10T19:20:00.001-07:00

A limb of our 100-year-old bartlet pear tree tore itself off today.

It landed next to the trunk, like it took a nose dive, no parachute.

True, a single pear weighs little.

But this branch, the width of a lady's wrist, held nine dozen. Toss them into a crate and your back strains to haul it to the minivan.

I feel strangely guilty, as if we asked Old Man Bartlet to do too much, that we should have realized, should have intervened. Anything.

Instead ... we did nothing. And time ran out.