Is this the new normal? Blogging now from our hometown of Rochester, NY, where we've decided to wait out the pandemic. After a promising early experience with controlling the pandemic, our beloved California is now worst in the nation. Since we are finishing a second home in Rochester, we've . . .
The unexamined life is not worth living, Socrates said, famously. I say the examined life can be hell. But truth is, it's the only way I can live. It ain't for everyone, though, I know. It takes relentless honesty and continual introspection.* Those things are not for the faint of . . .
It's the thing about getting older--we get wiser. Usually. We realize we know less than we thought and in many cases we really know nothing. At least that's been true of me. I remember being in my early 20s and being far less able to take critical input than I am now. In fact, it didn't occur to me . . .
When I was not even 21 I left my hometown of Rochester, NY (the suburban town of Irondequoit, to be exact and EAST Irondequoit, to be precise.) I left to start a new life as a wife. My new husband was also a Rochesterian, and of Sicilian descent, like me. But our hometown couldn't hold us. There . . .
Yes, more thoughts from a cop. My conversation with my police officer friend is still going on, but this is the last installment of this particular interview. If you missed the first two parts, Part 1 is here and Part 2 is here. I encourage you to leave your questions below, on this post. There will . . .
If you didn’t see yesterday’s talk with a cop, Part 1, start there. If you did, here’s the rest of the story. Why would I talk to a cop? Because, as he says: “I’ve known Carol for years and she wanted this to be more of a conversation. She and I do not see eye to eye on everything, although we do . . .
We might think we know what it's like to be a cop, but we really have no idea. The only reason I know how little I/we know, is that I count several cops among my dearest friends. I know them as people, first, and cops second. They are all men and to a man, they are among the finest human beings I . . .
What if kids don't go back to school? What if parents don't want to take the risk that their kids will get sick or even carry Covid back to them or other family members? Will children be scarred for life? I don't see how. Hear me out: Kids have been homeschooled --many in remote communities . . .
It's always so bizarre and really, a wake-up call, to talk about Trump with people who get their view of our world through Fox. Or, as those who understand what news really is, call it: Faux News. More Trump supporters than I thought possible lack critical thinking skills. Even those I once . . .
So many great discussions in isolation-- big chunks of time freed up space to consider things we haven't thought of or talked about in a very long time. Sometimes, that discussion is with ourselves. I've been thinking about a man I was once in love with, a man who rescued me at the lowest point of . . .
Avoid broadcast news as much as possible. Difficult advice to give for someone who studied journalism, but nonetheless, it could be the best advice I ever gave. Because there is so. much. static. The airwaves are filled with constant noise. TV news today is ridiculously dramatic and inflated, . . .
It’s Juneteenth: "Freedom Day" or "Emancipation Day" --the day that Texas, the most remote of states, freed all slaves. So it’s only fitting that today, in the midst of a relentless Black Lives Matters campaign and on the cusp of what feels to many like real change, my friend of 25 years, Tony . . .
Big sky is calming and the rainbow coming out of the cloud looks like a bolt of spiritual lightning. We need calm and a bolt of spiritual lightning about now. I don't know about you, but I have lost any modicum of patience I had with people who say stupid things, deny reality or lack human . . .
How have you been handling lockdown? For those who have lost loved ones, it is a time of deep grief. Many people are anxious over being forced to stay at home. They've lost income, jobs, the ability to feed their families. Others struggle over not being able to see loved ones, especially . . .
I don't know how to tackle this subject and do it justice. I just know I have to try, even If I stumble. Do you find it as strange as I do that we have to actually point out that black lives matter? Do you wonder why it isn't that something that everyone in our multi-faceted nation takes for . . .
This is my hope. That what's going on now will turn the tide for humanity. That we will realize that caring for one another is what's really important and that we will go forward with that framework. That we remember who we are: interdependent human beings who inhabit this earth together. That's . . .
Oh, California, I can't quit you. I've tried to leave. I've left once. I've said I was leaving. But then a day like I just had comes up and I know, I can't leave you. I can't. I wrote the original version of this post BC (before Covid) and it's even truer today. San Jose isn't on the coast, but . . .
Every five weeks I'd sit in my colorist's chair and ask "how much grey do I have now? Is it pure grey, silver or salt and pepper? Is it time to go gray?" With only a quarter inch of growth, It was always hard for her to tell. After all, I'd had highlights and some base color for decades. But she'd . . .
"Sometimes, our lives overlap with others, only briefly. We share troubles, laughter, or learning and move on, Afterwards all we will hold in common is a memory. The chapter passes like a storm, or sunshine, or an ordinary day. But the heavens always send us something new. A chance, a lease of . . .
I know. She looks rather like a madwoman, doesn't she? Would you believe I have my mother's 1950s RayBans that resemble these sunglasses? Only hers has rhinestones in the corners. From the late 1950s early 1960s. I feel closer to her when I wear them. It is, after all, Mother's Day. Her 1950s era . . .