Is It Really All Random? Headline Animator


I try to pinpoint words that when strung together, like beads in a necklace, express something with texture and richness; I hope for the occasional sparkle of a well placed gem. I frequently fail miserably. But on a good day, as with a candid photo, I unexpectedly capture a heartbeat, and it feels as if I've successfully seized fog with my hands.

Monday, February 20, 2012

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

Again, One-Minute Writer Exercise

Best summer fun. Taking Dad to a Giants game. Something happened over the winter. He couldn’t climb the stairs to our seats anymore. Disability seats all filled.

Watched as others watched us. Some looked away. Some fascinated. Empathic. Some curious. Some glad they weren’t Dad. Or me.

Usher sat us in seats of season ticket holders not arrived. Said we could stay till owners came. I looked for a solution.

Innings passed and owners claimed their seats. Lucky. Dad’s seat owner hadn’t arrived. I stood.

Realized he had come. He too stood so an old man could watch one more game. In the sun. Orange and black playing ball. Bay Bridge in the background. One last time. S.F. Giants and City by the Bay.

Thank you, Man. Thank you. 

Sunday, February 19, 2012

About "Ponytail"

I'm getting emails and comments about "Ponytail". This is what you might want to know about that post. 

I was following my nose around blog-world this morning. By way of I Was Just Thinking, I found a widget to direct me to yet another blog. That click took me to The One-Minute Writer, where the author encourages everyone to write for 60 seconds and gives a daily writing prompt. Today's was hair

"Describe a memorable haircut or style you had as a child."

So that's what I did. 

I imagine some prompts may be difficult, that nothing might bubble to the surface, never mind ability to capture in 60 seconds. But as you can see this one was easy for me. Save a photo added later and the correction of a typo, I was good to go.

If you enjoy writing, visit The One-Minute Writer.  It was helpful and really fun, too. Hey, it's only a minute, right?


In the second grade I sat on a kitchen chair as my mother brushed my long, dark hair and tied it with a black velvet ribbon. Then she cut off my ponytail. She thought I’d look cute with a D.A. Duck’s Ass. The ‘do of the day. In the 50s.
I was without opinion.

My grandmother was not. There was abundant emoting when she reviewed my short hair putting me in a bind between two women I loved and trusted. Did I look awful? Did I look good? Did I dare be seen outside?

When I think of grandmother Vivian, I'm seated, nestled against her on her huge, deep sofa, my feet nowhere near the floor. She strokes my head and says, “Darling, you have the most beautiful hair.”

Again, I was without opinion. But I was glad that she liked it because she was beautiful. I thought she must know.

After she died and my parents cleared and sold her home, they told me they’d found some things among her belongings that I might want. My notes to her from camp, recipes. And a tissue paper package, folded and carefully placed in her drawer. The ponytail of a seven-year-old girl, tied with an aged, crinkled, black velvet ribbon. 

My grandmother kept it. It was that beautiful.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

The Naked Face Project

If you haven't seen The Naked Face Project, I urge you to take a peek. This is a no-primping experiment crafted to allow the vulnerable human interior to shine boldly and authentically on the outside. I'd tell you more, but the authors can better speak for themselves. 

Take a look. And then, let someone see the beautiful, genuine you.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

Way Too Much Talkin'

We got some talkin’ to do!

Pa-leez, ladies, no more walking through store check-out lines jabberin’ on your cell phones while some minimum wage makin’ man or woman rings up your purchases and bags your stuff. Talkin’ the whole time to someone who isn't there while ignoring the ones who are. You expect decent service from folks you treat like machinery? 

I know sometimes they don’t smile but they are real. With blood and breath and everything. You can ignore them but it is NOT ladylike. They have plenty of chances in a day to have a bad one and a single smile and hello from you, as though you know they’re alive, can make all the difference. 

How many times you get to make a difference just by bein’ you with a big ol’ grin? Why you leavin' all the really great smiles to the gents? Look at this guy. How cool is he? Doesn't he make you feel great?

C’mon now. Put that little thingamajiggy down, pretty pink girl case and all. I’ll even give you the words to use.                    

“Excuse me. May I call you back? I’m at the check stand now.”

Better yet, when you’re givin’ your girlfriend advice about her soon-to-be-ex-situation, go outside. Please don't make her business my business. Got too much of my own already.

Okay then. Now that we’re all clear, back to your phones.