Category Archives: Life adventures
Of late, as my meat sack becomes frayed around the edges from a lifetime of living life to he fullest, my thoughts dwell on the question of what’s next. I reviewed my spiritual-belief journey and realized how much it has changed over the nearly seven decades I have trudged around in the dense overcoat guided only by the Jell-O salad in my head and a vague sense of there being something so awesomely better that it defies verbal explanation. […]
As my life has reached the status of the Hermit Tarot Card in one of it’s interpretations—Is that all there is? Where to now?—I think about the paradox of life and death. My body wants to keep going, my other consciousness thinks that letting go of the struggle to keep repairing an aging machine with worn out parts would be a good thing. So, what’s a human to do? I have long let go of believing that beliefs are true and adopted them as coping tools that can be discarded or upgraded as needed… Continue reading
We had been together for a few years when he started Beverly Hills Magazine. I wrote the astrology column, and a few articles, but for the most part, I was the receptionist and the “bosses girlfriend.” I didn’t care that the other employees talked about me behind my back and probably said nasty, jealousy things, I was having an amazing time in the world of Hollywood. Stars, celebrities, fancy parties, and more! I couldn’t get enough. Continue reading
One day, I decided enough was enough. The world was passing me by. Shortly after watching the first moon landing on Rick’s aunt’s flickery black-and-white TV, I vowed to “Get outta here and into the action.” It was a time of war protests, riots in Berkeley. People demanding to be heard!
I bought a bus ticket to Frisco, and was on my way. To what? I didn’t know or care. Something would turn up. It did. When I got off at the station, a sylph-like young woman with frizzy blond hair and gauzy, gypsy-esque clothing, handed me a flower and said, “Peace and Love.” I was supposed to give her money but instead, I said, “I want to join the cause.” She looked surprised, then grinned with perfectly straight white teeth that set off her natural, no make-up beauty. I was entranced. I wanted to be her. Yeah, right. Like I could EVER be like that.
Throughout much of my life I have had car karma. I didn’t have a new car of my own, bought with my own money, until I was in my 40s. Before that, I owned was a string of cars with, well, character. The first car I had of my own was in the early 1970s, a used Ford Fairlane of the early 1960s ilk. It was white, had tires of different sizes and treads, made funny noises, and sported Florida plates. I bought it from a newspaper classified ad for $100. I never registered it because…. Yes, I will get to the orange van in a minute…. I worked for General Telephone in Santa Monica and employees of the lower ranks, i.e. galley slaves, didn’t get parking spots. I sometimes had to park several blocks away from work. Okay, New Yorkers, laugh at that. Continue reading
One standout incident happened when I was fourteen. In 1964, my best friend Louise and I latched onto the latest and greatest definition of COOL! Only, I think we used the term “bitchen, . . . Continue reading
So, recently, mom, through her dogged determination to do what she wanted in spite of all common sense (yes I know she can’t help it), fell and broke her hip. She had a successful surgery and should be fine physically.
This rant isn’t about her because I am becoming increasingly tolerant and compassionate as I learn more about this ravaging disease. This rant is about the “system,” or lack of one in this country. To recount our “adventure” down the rabbit hole of our medical system, let’s begin with the ambulance.