“OK, campers, rise and shine!” — Groundhog Day reflections

six oclock

For years now, we always watch Groundhog Day after dinner on February 2.  It never fails to amuse me and bring back even more memories of Sonny & Cher than I knew I had.

But this year, the Universe turned against me — specifically Netflix and Amazon Prime.  Continue reading

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Early mornings with old dogs and Tom Hanks

underwood1

Even though I’ve been “retired” for less than two weeks now, I still get up early.  This is due in part to the habits of one old dog named Henry, who is as insistent as he is grey.  His internal alarm goes off at 5:33 am, if not earlier.  Continue reading

Cheese-covered hockey pucks, anyone?

feet on scale - Copy

Truth is, I may have a SHOW UP license plate on my car, but I’m just a big talker.  I show up for some things, but not others.  No matter what comes and goes from my list of Things I Don’t Show Up For, the #1 thing that is always on that list is taking care of my body.  I know I am the only person who is letting this slide. Continue reading

Reshuffling the Deck with Loretta

Tomorrow, I’ll be flying to Chicago and then on to Barcelona, for 12 days submerged in a Flavors of Spain experience, a custom-designed trip developed by some very fine folks at KJZZ Radio in Phoenix.

From moment to moment, I’m very excited and slightly terrified.  Mostly because flying alone makes me crazy and unusually religious.  But really because I know this is a life-changing trip. Continue reading

Birthday Musings and David Bowie

choose-your-year

It seems like the big thing these days is to have a “Word of the Year” to focus your life around.  Different from a resolution, this is supposed to be a theme, a touchstone, to guide your life as you move through the next year.  More clear and concise than a list of impossible resolutions, you’re supposed to tune into your inner needs and be hit upside Continue reading

Memories of a Bar Fly

Tucked away, behind a tall stand of trees, a mortuary, and another restaurant called the Figg Tree, was a rustic bar in Phoenix called the Monastery.  I’m not sure when it opened, probably in the late 60s, but I spent a ridiculous amount of time there from the mid-70s through the mid-80s.  Whoever was tending bar always wore a monk’s robe while Continue reading