What’s something you believe everyone should know.
This pertains to Americans only.
I really think every adult, 18 and over, should be able to name both of their US senators, their governor, and their representative in the House.
It scares me that so many people don’t know really basic stuff. I feel like 2024 is a year that everyone actually needs to pay attention. Depending on what happens in these upcoming elections, things could take a terrible turn, from which I don’t think we’ll recover in my lifetime.
I guess it would be just too much to expect people to be able to name the Speaker of the House, in addition to the President and the Vice President (which most people know). I mean, he’s only second in the presidential line of succession, after the vice president.
This guy, who wants to ban all abortions without exception — to the point of criminalization with prison sentences — is Speaker of the House.
Most people can name these two. Her first name is pronounced: COMMA-LA. Not that hard!
As kids, my neighborhood friends and I would play elaborate games of pretend. One game was “Little House on the Prairie,” based on the books by Laura Ingalls Wilder. We would turn my friend Carolyn’s bed into a pioneer wagon and pretend we were heading west. Calamities would befall us, especially stagecoach robbers. We were always getting attacked.
Here’s a Halloween photo from that time period that I happened to pull out yesterday. I was a cowboy that year. Thinking back, that would certainly fit with my “Little House on the Prairie” obsession.
Halloween, 1973
The magic of books that transported you to a world that you wanted to recreate and inhabit is something that “kid at heart” conjures.
“Little Women” is another book that we liked to act out. We would pretend we were playwrights and write & perform mini-plays.
I remember being so excited when my son built himself a tree perch in which to read “The Swiss Family Robinson.” I knew he was feeling that book magic.
My son reading “The Swiss Family Robinson” in a tree, with the remnants of a brilliant sunset in the background, November 2010
You have three magic genie wishes, what are you asking for?
Genie wishes have a way of backfiring in books and movies. We all know that wishing for someone to fall in love with you or wishing for “more wishes” never pans out.
So, in an attempt to be sure my wishes get granted, with no unintended consequences, I’d be very specific. World peace, reversing climate change, and ending racism would be great, but I feel like they might be too broad for genie wishes.
I think I’d go with cures for three specific, devastating diseases. Sure, maybe some scientists would lose their jobs or need to find a new line of research, but wouldn’t it be awesome if nobody ever died from ALS (Lou Gehrig’s disease), breast cancer, or glioblastoma (brain cancer)? I’d cure those three diseases, in memory of friends and family lost to them:
Carla, my best friend from college, and Ben from church (Glioblastoma)
Duilia, my mother-in-law, and Carolyn, my second mom growing up (ALS)
Betsy, my aunt (Breast cancer)
My lovely and kind Aunt Betsy (far left) holding her oldest child—my cousin Steven. She died less than five years later.
My two grandmothers were very different, but had some things in common. In addition to sharing two granddaughters (my sister and me), they were both widows for decades. Both my grandfathers died before I was born. My mother’s mother (Nana) lost her husband in her fifties and my father’s mother (Grammy) lost her husband in her late thirties. Neither one ever remarried, or even had a boyfriend, as far as I know.
They both helped raise some of their grandchildren. My uncle on my mother’s side lost his wife to breast cancer when his kids were very young. Nana eventually moved into the upstairs of their double-decker and helped raise my three cousins. Grammy moved out west to help one of my aunts with her six children after her first husband left (or was kicked out). When that aunt remarried and was back on her feet, Grammy moved in with another aunt back east and helped raise her three sons, while my aunt and uncle worked day and night in their grocery store.
The only grandkids that they didn’t help raise were me and my sister. They were just regular grandmothers to us, although Nana could be pretty strict. She was a kindergarten teacher, so she was always making us read. She was thin and artistic. She smoked. She painted. She had parakeets (Paddy and Billy) that she would let fly around her art studio and they would nibble at the wallpaper. She had beautiful lilacs in her yard in Worcester and an attic full of fashionable vintage dresses. She had a Brooklyn accent. She was cool.
Grammy was more Old World. She wore her hair in long braids twisted around her head and held in place with combs. She was a great cook. She made ravioli and other pasta and tomato sauce (“gravy”) from scratch and could fry things — like chicken, zucchini and French toast — so fluffily that they would melt in your mouth. She tended to wait on us and spoil us, whereas Nana would have us up and vacuuming, if we were sitting around too long.
Grammy could talk and talk forever, telling us stories about our cousins out west, whom we’d never met. She had a tendency to mix-up names. She’d sometimes cycle through one or two of my cousins’ names, before landing on mine.
Both were Catholic, but Grammy was a Democrat and Nana was more conservative, politically speaking. I think my parents were somewhat concerned about having them in the same room when Nixon resigned on TV (August 8, 1974). They were both at our house that night because it was my father’s 40th birthday.
I loved them both very much and I know they loved me too. They made me feel special. I was lucky to have them in my life for as long as I did.
My grandmothers and me at my high school graduation Grammy and meMy fashionable Nana in NYC with “Bobby”
I’m a fan of the big three: walking, swimming and biking. I don’t go crazy doing any of them. Unlike my husband, I’m a believer in the “everything in moderation” philosophy.
Walking is certainly the easiest. Just put on sneakers and open the front door. I typically walk 2-3 miles. When swimming, I do laps in a 25-yard pool for 30-40 minutes (total yards are less than a mile). I get the least amount of credit from my Apple Watch for biking. I go slowly on a paved rail trail. Eight miles is a long bike ride for me.
So, I’m very boring. By contrast, my husband took up competitive powerlifting at age 60 and now holds multiple state records. He works out with 25-year olds and has a terrifyingly intense coach.
Sometimes I get a bit creative in order to close the rings on my Apple Watch before the end of the day. I was a majorette in high school and still have my old silver baton. I set-up “baton twirling” as an exercise category on my watch and will occasionally do a quick routine to “Second Hand News” by Fleetwood Mac or “Physical” by Olivia Newton-John, just to close my watch rings.
I guess I’m exactly the type of person that the digital health movement is aimed at: the lazy-to-moderate types who need some positive reinforcement to keep moving.
I traveled a lot when I was young and single. I took many trips to Florida and one or two to Southern California and Mexico with my high school friend Debbie, who was a year older. I also made several trips to San Francisco with friends and also with a boyfriend who moved there from Boston. (We visited each other a couple of times and then it was over.)
One year, shortly after college, my friend Julie and I flew to LA, rented a car and drove up that stunning Pacific coastline to San Francisco, staying with friends in both cities. I went to Jamaica and Colorado with boyfriends, and to NYC, DC, and New Orleans with girlfriends.
I liked road trips but I really loved going to the airport. It was so exciting getting on a plane in Boston and getting off somewhere completely different – with different weather. It was exhilarating. I prided myself on never checking a bag. I was really good at packing everything in my carry-on.
It’s amazing how much your feelings about air travel can change in thirty years. Now, I really don’t enjoy getting on a plane. I can handle the 3-hour flight to Florida, but anything longer than that is a real deterrent in terms of planning a trip.
So, this is all a long way of saying that I probably would’ve paid a few thousand dollars, when I was in my twenties, to go to the moon. I mean, come on, it’s the moon! The 3-day flight would not have stopped me back then.
Now, I can’t imagine being in an aircraft for that long. It sounds very uncomfortable. And how do they pee?
My friend Julie and me in San Francisco, with Coit Tower up the hill in the background, 1988
What alternative career paths have you considered or are interested in?
Having spent my whole career in fundraising, I used to think it would be fun to work on the other side – giving the money away, rather than seeking it. I remember I applied for a fellowship to work at the National Endowment for Arts in Washington, DC, when I was in my twenties. (I didn’t get it.)
I’ve met all kinds of “philanthropists” through my work over the years – from extremely wealthy individuals (think Maya Rudolph in “Loot”) to highly-educated subject matter experts at large private legacy foundations like Hearst and Ford.
I think I’m past the point where I’d want to switch careers to work for a government agency or a large private foundation, but if someone needed my help giving away a couple million a year, I’d be down.
I am not a great cook, but I am in possession of several good and reliable recipes that I make a lot and sometimes get asked to make. These include my swiss & mushroom quiche, my carrot cake with cream cheese frosting, and my blueberry muffins. Even with those, I will use short cuts like pre-made pie crusts. Let’s face it, those Pillsbury refrigerated pie crusts (in the long red box) are really good!
Speaking of short cuts, I have discovered what I think is the single best cake mix in the world. I had read about it somewhere and put it on my grocery list, where it stayed for many months annoying my husband. He kept wanting to cross it off, but I would not let him. I had heard it was really good and wanted to try it. I asked the staff at Trader Joe’s about it and they said it was “seasonal,” but the season never seemed to arrive. Was it a holiday item? A summer item?
Finally, one day, there it was on the shelf: Trader Joe’s Meyer Lemon Cake Mix with Lemon Icing. There were two boxes left. I bought both. It did not disappoint. If you like lemon cake, you really need to try this. It smells so lemony and is so moist and delicous. It’s both very easy to make and very “special” looking when it’s done and glazed. It’s good for company or family, breakfast or dessert, summer or Christmas. Be sure to use an 8 x 4 loaf pan, like it says on the box. My only additional recommendation would be to lightly flour the pan, after you grease it, to be sure the cake comes out easily. After it’s on your cake plate and completely cooled, drizzle on the lemon glaze. Trader’s Joe’s also makes a “Blood Orange Cake Mix with Icing,” which I’ve tried. It’s also very good, but not quite as good as the Meyer Lemon. So, don’t pass this up if you see it on the shelf at TJs. It may not be “in season” again for a very long time.
This prompt sent me thinking back on many events — some happy, some sad — but the earliest memory I have of a major historical event is the Bicentennial. Yes, I’m THAT old.
I grew up in the birthplace of the American Revolution. I could ride my bike to both the Lexington Green and the center of Concord, Massachusetts. My hometown, Bedford, was best known for having the nation’s oldest battle flag. As you can imagine, the Bicentennial was a huge deal for us.
President Ford visited the area for Patriot’s Day in April 1975 to kick-off the nation’s big birthday year. (Patriot’s Day is a special Massachusetts holiday where we celebrate the beginning of the American Revolution: “the shot heard round the world”) I went to see President Ford speak in Concord at the Old North Bridge. I was nine. I mainly remember my oufit. My mother made full colonial dresses with aprons and hats for my sister and me. She actually made us two hats each — a bonnet (in the picure) and a white colonial Martha Washington hat. We wore those outfits a lot that year. (Parades, parades, and more parades!) I vaguely remember seeing President Ford at the Old North Bridge, but the secret service frogmen in the water under the bridge made a bigger impression. The idea that the President needed intense, 24-hour protection was new to me.
The funny thing is that last year I took a visiting friend to The Old Manse in Concord and the tour guide told us about a whole different side of that same day. Apparently there were thousands of teenagers (including her) and some well-known musicians camped out near the bridge. They were supposedly protesting Ford’s visit to Concord (he had pardoned Nixon the year before), but she said it turned into a wild, debauched party, with fantastic music. She made it sound like a mini-Woodstock! It was weird because I didn’t remember hearing about any of that, but I did find a story about it in The New York Times. Somebody needs to make a documentary about what really went on in Concord that day.
President Ford at the Bicentennial Commemoration, Old North Bridge, April 1975
“Across the Concord River were 20,000 youthful demonstrators, bleary-eyed from a night of listening to radical speeches and songs, partying and drinking beer, sleeping in the rain, many waving the yellow flag of the early Revolutionary period emblazoned with a coiled rattlesnake and the motto, “Don’t Tread on Me.”Me in my Bicentennial costume, made by my mom
What’s the biggest risk you’d like to take — but haven’t been able to?
I’ve enjoyed my job for many years. I’ve gone from contractor, to part-time employee, to full-time employee with the same organization over the past 18 years.
The organization went through a rocky merger with a larger one in 2017 and it’s just never been as fun as it was in the old days. The money and benefits are better, but I don’t like the person I ended up having to report to. And there are other problems.
So, the biggest risk I’d like to take, but haven’t been able to (yet), would be to give my notice. The risk is less about the income, and more about the void. What am I going to do with all that time and mental energy? What do healthy retired people in their 60s actually do all day?
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