Posts

Showing posts from 2012

Featured Post

#11 BEACH MUSIC: A time of tans, blonds and hot pants

Image
IT WAS A TIME OF TANS, BLONDS AND HOT PANTS, WHEN THE ENDLESS SUMMER WAS JUST A SHORT WALK DOWN A HOT SIDEWALK
Beach Music, an On the Street Where I Livestories is really a tale of two cities; San Juan, Puerto Rico and Santa Monica, California. It was originally published in the LA Times Sunday Magazine.


Beach Music We came to California from Canada, with a detour to Puerto Rico that lasted one endless summer of a year. A year in which I turned 15, and my hair turned blond from living in the sun. “Psst,” the boys and men would call after me in the blue-cobbled streets of San Juan. “Psst! Hey, blondie. Psst! Hey, cutie pie.” I was devastated when my parents said we had to go, that it was time to leave the island so that my older brother, Russell, could get a first rate education. The plan was to drive cross country from Miami and settle in San Francisco so that my brother could finish high school before going on to UC Berkeley. But, once we got there in the fall of 1968, we found that …

Pros and Cons

Image
Pros and Cons




"Hey"
She looked up from the margarita she was stirring with a straw. It just didn’t make sense. Drinking a margie through a straw meant you would miss the salt.

“Hey”
She squinted into the mirror; he was sitting solo in the booth behind her.
Shit! She’d planned on calling it a night.So,’ she thought, swiveling around on her barstool, ‘Are you a 33 or a 333 word man?’ “Oh, hello there” Smiling. A touch surprised. “Buy you a drink?”
A 333 word man for sure. Was he slurring? She couldn’t tell. She swirled her glass, watching the ice clink. “Thanks, I’m good”
He was hesitating.
“But thanks, anyway.”
That was it. Enough. He was sliding across the vinyl, standing, crossing the carpeted floor. Green, with blue and black swirls. God, that had to hide a lot of spills. Like the scotch he spilled on his weave over.
“Oops” He shook the scotch off his hand.
“Oops” She handed him a couple of cocktail napkins.
He dabbed at his pants. “Guess I need a refill.” He settled …