In My Mind’s Eye: Remembering Dad

Here’s my annual Father’s Day post, adapted from an article I wrote for the San Francisco Chronicle in 1997. Happy Father’s Day! Here’s to you Dad…There’s an image I have captured in my mind. I’m in my car in front of the home my parents have shared for most of their 45 married years. Mom and Dad are standing on the front porch.

From the street, I can see the huge eucalyptus tree in their backyard, silhouetted against the evening sky. It’s gently swaying in the warm breeze while the full moon illuminates the manicured lawn. My parents are smiling and waving as I drive away after a visit.

Mom lives alone now that Dad is in an Alzheimer’s nursing facility, so that scenario has changed. But it never does in my mind. My parents always stood on the porch to wave good-bye when I left. Even in pouring rain, they still stood in the open doorway together. I always looked back and returned their waves. Continue reading

Why I Almost Killed My Sister

I almost killed my sister on my birthday.

say it isn't so

Now don’t get me wrong; I realize it’s shocking to lead with that, especially since this is supposed to be a humor blog and death isn’t funny. Spoiler alert: there will be a happy ending. Sort of.

It started 3 days before my birthday when I called Vicki to see whether her doctor contacted her with test results from the previous week. At 64, she’s lived most of her life with debilitating obsessive-compulsive disorder, is developmentally and physically disabled and now has a muscle condition forcing her to use a walker. Life has not been particularly kind to Vicki.

Bill, Vicki me at Tahoe

Me, brother Bill and Vicki at Tahoe circa 1960

Vicki sleeps late and doesn’t have a cell phone or computer. I can only contact her via her home phone. She often can’t reach it before it goes to voicemail so I leave a message and hope she calls me back. But this time she didn’t. I figured she’s probably out getting dinner and will call me later. But no. Continue reading

I Can See Clearly Now

This posting was originally published in 2021

If you haven’t yet reached the age where you’re referred to as ma’am or sir, this posting will mean nothing to you so feel free to go about your day. Or, on second thought, read this so you’ll educate yourself as to what awaits when you wake up one day and realize you’re officially a senior, aka long in the tooth, past your prime, seasoned…

Now don’t get me wrong; it’s not like I just entered this realm. In the US, people are considered seniors once they reach age 62. So I’ve already had four years of experience being old. And like anything, there’s good and bad in that.

First the good: A senior gets discounts at movie theaters and on certain days at some grocery stores — not particularly exciting when you consider the trade-off. But qualifying for Medicare and Social Security makes it tolerable. Another aging perk is that men take pity on me, sometimes offering to carry heavy items to my car. Little do they know I can manage on my own. But why spoil their feel good moment and tell them?

Now the bad: Well, how much time do you have? Just kidding. I bet you think aches and pains are front and center. Actually I’m lucky there. I try to keep in shape, work out, play tennis, blah, blah, blah. So once I’m up and moving, I’m good to go.

What’s hardest for me is going blind. Well, not actually blind but sometimes it feels that way. Sad to say, this is a normal aspect of aging. Things started getting blurry in my mid 40s when I couldn’t read the fine print in the phone book anymore. Yes, for you youngsters, there were once phone books.

Where’s the magnifying glass?
Continue reading

Observations on the Ridiculous, Chapter 2

Because of a crazy busy week, I’m re-posting from May 25, 2014. I’m certain you won’t remember it since I barely did myself, but then I’m known for my poor memory. Anyway, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it!

The ridiculous continues. Here are this month’s 7 picks…

My ridiculous dog, Nellie

Nellie

1. My dog Nellie. The last 3 times I’ve walked my Greyhound she’s chosen to stop at the same house to do her business. That wouldn’t be so bad if her business wasn’t comprised of a load of disgustingly runny poop. (Hope you aren’t eating right now.)

poop bags To make matters worse, the homeowners are always out front. What are the odds? I do carry poop bags and always clean up after my dogs but still, this is getting ridiculous. Try as I might to coax her over to the next house (where those homeowners have the good sense not to be home), one simply cannot budge a pooping Greyhound once she becomes so inclined. I believe it’s time to change our walking route. Continue reading

Oh, To Be Talented

This blog was originally posted in May, 2014

martha stewart
rachael ray

Sometimes I’m envious of people who excel in a particular area. That’s because I’m limited in the talent department. I can think of only 2 areas where I’m decent: I’m an okay writer and I can play tennis. That’s pretty much it. I love baking but I’m no Martha Stewart. I enjoy cooking but I’m no Rachael Ray. And no doubt I’d be the first to get booted from Dancing with the Stars and most definitely The Voice.

Continue reading