Revisiting an oldie, day two

This is the second of my vintage articles I’m re-posting. I wrote it for CityBeat back in the spring of 2017 after a spate of racist events unfolded at UCSD. What I wrote then is pretty pertinent to where I am right now, in my current state of mind, even if I may no longer be as interested in—or as concerned with—treating people delicately when discussing race. The lone comment on this story underscores why my attitude has shifted. Someone named “wilder” said about my piece: take a chill pill. live and let live. not everyone is out to …

Revisiting an oldie, day one

Thanks to an email from a reader, I went back into my archives and re-read two pieces I published in CityBeat that I’m putting here today and tomorrow, not because I don’t have fresh material (do I ever have fresh material), but because both of them still apply. And this one, as serendipity would have it, was published on this day two years ago. Which completely flummoxed me. Had anyone asked me to estimate, I would have said I wrote this six-months ago. God, I’m getting old. Did you know I used to walk ten miles to school, always …

Stumbling on goodness as it unfolds

So there I was at Target this morning, minding my own business. I had my sunglasses on, and was pushing my cart aimlessly through aisles I didn’t need to be in, laying my hands on everything, with no real hurry to be anywhere. This is the most dangerous way to shop Target. I had planned to go to the Target by my house, but I was closer to another one after having dropped Ruby at her carpool to camp. I had a short list of things to grab—hand soap, a greeting card, jeggings for the girl—but I took my …

Birthday boy: an open letter to my friend who’s turning 40

Dear Brian, What a difference a year makes, huh? As you may or may not recall—depending on the number of cocktails you enjoyed at my 40th last year, and the brain cells you’ve obliterated since—you gave me a boundless ration of grief over my official entré into middle age. You laughed and ribbed and smirked your way through the evening at my expense, and you were quite funny. It’s why I like you. Mostly though, I had to laugh to keep from crying. You might be expecting me to get even, now that it’s your turn to stuff the …

(Shifting gears now…) me as the incredible hulk

Mr. McGee, don’t make me angry. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.” —David Banner When you call the dad of your child’s schoolmate to find out if his kid is coming to your kid’s birthday party this coming Friday—since he didn’t RSVP, and your child has begged and begged for her friend to be there, and instead of letting it die like it should, like you’d planned to let it, you follow up, because you want your daughter to have The Best Birthday Ever—when that dad says, yes, his daughter will be at the party, and then adds, “You …

Cooking skillz

For two people who don’t watch television, Sam and I have been watching an awful lot of television. With the exception of football (not the American kind) and tennis and the soon-to-be Tour de France, most of what we watch could be considered shite. But one show we stumbled upon and that has completely enthralled us, is “Master Chef,” a cooking contest between everyday people, hosted by an etched and fidgety little dude named Gordon Ramsay. Apparently he’s big in the cooking world. Or, at least, he’s a behemoth in the television cooking world, because every other show seems …

VIVE LA FRANCE!

Meet our exchange student, Lucile. Isn’t she adorable? She arrived last night, swirly-eyed and seemingly in shock after a very long day of travel that included and excruciatingly long lay over in Houston, of all God-awful places. Of course, if you have to go to Houston, the airport is probably your safest bet. We took Lucile for a quick dinner, brought her home, let her shower and sent her to bed. Today, I initiated her with a quick zip through the hallowed halls of Target because I absolutely had to go there. And I will say, she looked completely …

TOP NINE LESSONS I LEARNED AT BLOGHER

If you’re surrounded by 3000 smart opinionated women, and in this case women who write, you’re bound to learn all sorts of things. The BlogHer conference was no exception. Here are the top ten lessons I learned at BlogHer. You’re not alone. Women use blogs to escape.  In these tough economic times, people are looking to forget about the mortgage and the bills.  Maybe we just want to stop worrying for a minute about our kids staying out too late or being bullied in school.  If you’re reading this at 4am, welcome you’re not alone, my friend. Women rule.  I didn’t need a …

OH! THE PLACES I’VE BEEN!

Yesterday I picked raspberries and popped them in my mouth, the sweet exploding on my tongue.   Bellevue was so green it hurt my eyes and filled my heart.  I was a kid from the arid desert of Southern California where the only green is the watered lawns and palm trees.  I rode a horse and got lost in the green of the forest while the sun played hide and seek. I’ve milked a goat and jumped from a twenty foot rock into a pool of water so cold it shocked me alive. My family and I went to a …