Boatload of Dreamers

Today is my eldest son, Nathan’s birthday and this year, we have a lot to celebrate. He just sold his first screenplay out in Los Angeles. Yep, Hollywood, the real deal -- writer, director, agents, lawyers, “my people will call your people,” that kind of screenplay. Sounds glamorous, right? Of course it does. And while it touched off a flurry of coast-to-coast woo-hoo texts among our little family that could, with every imaginable emoji following behind it, (my three … [Read more...]

Arrested Self-Absorption

There’s this Roy Clark song, “Thank God and Greyhound You’re Gone.” Right? That’s kinda how I feel about my kids. Now wait. Hold the phone. Context is everything. When The New York Times Magazine runs a front page story featuring a young, attractive, college grad sitting at Mommy and Daddy’s dining room table with a bowl of Kix and a caption over her head which reads: “one in five young adults still lives with their parents” this becomes cause for celebration in the … [Read more...]

What Are You Willing to Risk?

A friend of mine turned 64 this week, said he played the Beatles “Birthday” song in celebration. Cranked it. Probably danced with his baby girl on his hip. He’s a new daddy. Yep, 64 with a six-month-old daughter, his first child. Life is full and good, albeit not exactly what he’d planned, heading into retirement. Oh well. All of this abundance started with him taking a chance. He risked rejection, humiliation, even heartache, just to speak to the cute salesclerk at the … [Read more...]

Twenty Seven

Taillights like domino dots, only red. The anticipation of what a summer night could yield as palpable as the humidity at the intersection of then and now, where I idle. At least there’s a breeze. Windows down, the heat backed off enough to coax me out of my air-conditioned, sensory deprivation pod, arm dangling out the window, hand air surfing, dipping and diving, ribbons of warmth weave through my fingers like batter. Moist. Night. Air. Motown streams from the … [Read more...]

In Observance of National Poetry Month

Sometimes I indulge in a little free verse. Sometimes I indulge in bars and shout "Free Bird!"  Anyway, hope you like it. Desert Inn Lovers, like impressions in clay leave behind their sweetness. Blue eyes, brown, this one, that,a lifetime. How many kisses in the dark?Adoring, no hesitation, only love. I welcomed you like the sunpouring over me, a golden glazenever hardening. Wraps round me now, a whiskey spun cocoon,mere memories.No regret. I breathe. I live. I … [Read more...]


I was talking to a friend the other night about the travails of on-line dating. We're not big fans. It made me think that maybe I could REALLY hit pay dirt by writing profiles for on-line suitors -- of course, I guess, they'd have to hire me to do their on-going correspondence. But then, what happens when they show up for a date and, uh, well, they're not quite what they pretended to be. Talk about Te'oing. It reminded me of a story I wrote in my blog,  A Woman With a … [Read more...]

No Ruts In Our Shoulders

My friend and I were laughing smugly the other night about being Kate Hudson-like when it comes to our endowment -- modest.  That's okay with us, less gravitational pull you know and no disfigurement from overburdened bra straps. Then I read a comment this morning from Sioux, a reader who had commented on my Death By Girdle post. It reminded me of something I wrote three years ago, about the unblinking truth of the YMCA locker room, which seems particularly prescient … [Read more...]

The Dude Abides, Revisited

I sent this picture to my special gentleman friend over the weekend. He was out of town. With 75%  percent of my offspring in town, I suggested we go bowling to work off some of that pecan pie. And here's the pic my dude sent me in  response.  Completely apropos, considering the story I published on A Woman With a Past: The Post-Apocalyptic Approach to Men, nearly two years ago to the day, on November 27, 2009. Many things have changed since then. Three things have … [Read more...]

Brave Enough to Sing Our Song?

I went to a concert tonight. The headliner was a kick-ass country, alternative band called The Old 97s. Most of them hail from Texas, ‘nuff said. The Old 97s, and their touring manager Mike, had graciously allowed me and my scrappy band of videographers (a.k.a. my stellar son Nathan, some sweet guys at Bad Dog Video, who loaned me gear, and both sons Nate and Pat, plus a film school buddy Phil who edited) the chance to shoot a pilot for a reality TV show which I’d cooked … [Read more...]

It’s All About You

I've missed you. I told you, "I will never leave you" and then I did. I didn't mean to drop off the face of the planet since my last post on September 2nd. I have actually gone through withdrawals, kind of a "post" traumatic syndrome, traumatized by not writing and hearing back from all you folks whom I truly care about. But I got sucked in. I got sucked back into the frenzied vortex of nail-biting normal, even though I stuck my legs out, stiff as a board, pushed … [Read more...]