Assumptions Hide the Truth

You’d think we’d be over it. At our age, we should have learned not to judge someone by what they wear, what they do for a living, or where they live. Indeed, there’s a famous best-seller that instructs us not to judge, lest we be judged.

Yet, we still make all sorts of assumptions about people based on little or no information.

Take Keeper, for instance. When we meet all those years ago, I took one look at him and my first thought was, “I’ll bet he teaches social studies.”

Now, the only basis I had for this judgment was the fact that he had a bad haircut and was wearing clothes that were at least 15 years out of date. I don’t know what pegged him as a teacher. With the haircut and the clothes he could have been a felon just released from the penitentiary.

As it…(Read more)

When in doubt, pluck it out

Ladies, this one is for you. Gentlemen, if you wonder what women talk about in locker rooms, feel free to listen in. Be advised, however, that the following may contain Too Much Information.

The after-class conversations of my aqua aerobics buddies sometimes tend toward the subject of aging. Most of us are in our Second Half and are feeling the effects of time and gravity. That’s why we love to be in the pool – we can, for a moment, overcome the laws of physics and once again feel young and graceful. Our saggy parts bounce and our bouncy parts float. It’s enough to make us giddy.

Last week, in the after-glow our of wet workout, a group of us hung out, treading water and discussing our facial hair.

One of us, let’s call her Margaret, had just been to the dermatologist to discover the cause of her thinning eyebrows. Her formerly bushy…(Read more)

Local Woman Narrowly Escapes Death

I should have softened the news. When Keeper walked in the door last night, he barely had his coat off before I blurted out my news: “I got hit by a fire truck today.”

“Wha??” Keeper sputtered, his face full of concern and confusion.

“Well, obviously I’m OK,” I added, “but it kind of shook me up.”

That’s the happy ending. Here’s the beginning and the middle.

I was on my way down El Camino to meet my friend at Café Barrone for a cup of tea and a chat.

About to enter the left turn lane at Ravenswood to swing back north to enter the parking garage, I heard sirens. In my rear-view mirror I saw a fire truck bearing down on me. I did what I was trained to do by Mr. Patacsil in Driver’s Ed class in 1968: I pulled over to the right,…(Read more)

Bite Me, Bluetooth Bully!

Hey, buddy! Yeah, you with the laptop and the cell phone and the headset. I hate to break it to you, but you don’t actually own that table at Starbucks.

Lately I’ve noticed (and a story in this morning’s Chronicle confirms) that people are using coffee shops as their office. These urban squatters move in, buy a single cup of coffee and proceed to occupy a chair for hours while they conduct business.

Shop owners are obviously concerned. Customers, the ones that actually buy stuff for cash, are squeezed out by these guys.

Here’s what happened to me a couple of weeks ago. I had arranged to meet a friend at a Starbucks in Burlingame, the one near the train station. I arrived a bit early, ordered a large Earl Grey (“Do you mean a grande?”) and scoped out seating possibilities. There was a Mom that looked…(Read more)

Keeper and I Play Doctor

Here’s how Keeper and I started the New Year. While I was still in a fog after a rowdy New Year’s Eve of TV-watching followed by 11 hours of sleep, Keeper wanted me to play Doctor.

This is not as fun as it sounds. If you’re picturing Keeper in a white coat, wagging his eyebrows and asking me to put my feet in the stirrups, think again. Our particular brand of “Doctor” involves Keeper naming a symptom he’s having and asking me if I think he’ll die from it. This is not foreplay, believe me. It is the prelude to 24-48 hours of misery in which Keeper envisions his untimely death from complications of tendinitis, hangnail or bee sting.

“I’m having heel pain,” he whispered in my ear this morning, so as not to wake up the dog. Corky snored blissfully on as I fought to come out of my stupor on…(Read more)

Take Time to Celebrate

You know how I love the holidays—ANY holidays.  No matter how obscure the observance, I want to honor tradition.  If it means taking the day off from work, I’ll make the sacrifice.  (Now that I‘m my own boss, I find it’s easier to explain why I need to stay home for Bulgarian Liberation Day. )

I wouldn’t say I’m making an excuse to slack off; let’s just say I believe EVERY day is a reason to celebrate.  Yeah, I’m a regular party girl.

The key is to plan ahead, especially if you are going to call in sick on a particular holiday.  You’ll need plenty of time to come up with a plausible excuse.

For your convenience, I’ve compiled a list of the major holidays for the next few weeks so you can think about how you want to celebrate.  Suggestions for appropriate observances are included.

Ready, set, mark those calendars!

Take Your Houseplants For…(Read more)

Protocol for Public Nudity

It’s unfortunate that this has to be spelled out, However, I have noticed an increase in people running around naked and acting inappropriately, like the guy who led San Mateo County Sheriff’s Deputies on a high-speed chase last Saturday.

This 38-year-old perp not only harassed people by ringing their doorbells, he also led sheriff’s deputies on a high speed chase, then jumped out of the car and kicked in the door to someone’s house before he was finally subdued.  The cops had to shoot beanbags at him while he was hiding in the bushes.  This crime spree is bad enough.  The capper is that he was naked the whole time.

Now, this gentleman helpfully demonstrated several “don’ts” of nude behavior, i.e., don’t ring people’s doorbells while naked, and don’t try to resist arrest, clothed or unclothed.

Please, if you must be naked outdoors, save it for the anniversary of Woodstock.  And furthermore, let…(Read more)

The Groom (Almost) Wore Shorts

I’m in a minority group, and not just because I’m a straight Caucasian female in San Francisco. I’m one of the few who are blessed with a happy marriage. Having just witnessed my son’s wedding, I have some tips for ready-to-commit couples everywhere. . .

The Groom (Almost) Wore Shorts

There are few pleasures like seeing your son get married to the woman he loves. My son Tom has given me this delightful experience twice. On June 19, in what Samuel Johnson famously described as the triumph of hope over experience, Tom married the beautiful Clare in a simple courthouse ceremony.

Both had learned a painful message from previous marriages and they are ecstatic to find someone with whom to cuddle contentedly on the couch. (Thanks, Yahoo Personals!) . . .

Read the rest of the column: 

Airport Etiquette: Keep it Moving

Summer is vacation time for most of us, and our recent jaunt to the Midwest and the East Coast taught me a few lessons about flying that I’m compelled to share. . .

Airport Etiquette 101: Keep It Moving

Air travel doesn’t have to be a nightmare of screaming babies, bad food, and surly gate agents.  If only everyone would follow a few common-sense rules, which I’ve conveniently compiled for you, we could all go about our business with a minimum of fuss. . .

Read the rest of the column: 

Softball for Geezers

What a crazy couple of weeks! Keeper and I went to Indiana to attend son Tom’s wedding to the beautiful Clare, then went on to Virginia Beach for the Hanna family reunion. Despite my best intentions, I’m a bit late on this week’s column. On the plus side, I got some great material…

Softball for Geezers

Wish you could still feel like a young athlete despite your over-fifty status? Do what my brother-in-law Rob did: join an over-the-hill softball league. On his team of, uh…”experienced” slow pitch players, he’s a young stud.

Rob is a member of Northern Virginia Senior Softball, or, as his wife Stephanie calls it, the “Old Fart League.”

Read the rest of the column: