1952: Year of the Water Dragon. It’s been said that our year didn’t hold a candle to 1950 or 1947.  Some believe that our bulging birth rate got in the way from the start: less individual attention in the hospital, more crowded kindergartens … But that was ages ago.  What matters now is that it all worked out quite well.  And a major anniversary is just around the corner — #40 for Class of 1974! Four decades have spun by since we wore our bunny fur on May 13, 1974. But I won’t be on the ground.  With some regret, I’ll miss all the class fun, the robust and...

Oh, Laurie. Oh, Laurie. You will never be forgotten by our loving club.  The club of readers everywhere who adored your every word and devoured your kitchen delights, too. I’m not 100% sure, but there’s a chance I think, that I may have concocted this recipe.  Maybe not.  In any case, I dedicate this treat to an incomparable author who slipped away, way too soon.  You. BAKED CITRUS MANGO COLWINIA First: Set the oven at 350 degrees (convection or otherwise). Next: Peel a really ripe large mango, (organic, if possible). Then:  Cut into pieces. Precision is highly over-rated here.  Just...

Lots of people to congratulate! May the fun begin! Here we go. My hat’s off to Amanda L  — not to overlook her incredible mother, my pal Vicki — who set an example that just couldn’t be ignored over the years. You see, Amanda just bought a house entirely by herself  at 24 — No — that’s not the beginning of her new address… it’s her age!  I’ve never heard of a 24 year old doing something like that before — at least not without significant help beyond her own means. And it’s in a part of Oregon that my car wheels knew well.  More...

If we could just have a quick peek at the cards we never touch,  I’m almost positive that our best of anything would be the hardest to find.  It would be someplace waiting.  On top?  Never.  How can the best ever come first — before the rest?  Impossible, incomparable, right?   Let’s stop here. You see my best boss did come first.  Peter Lacey by name.  Peter Lacey was my first boss,  just a couple of weeks after the diploma was all mine. He was exactly twice my age and somehow found stories of my college life as engrossing as the little captions and checked facts that I...

It’s such a beautiful word– in sound and in meaning.  And its essence honors my father, who died today, one year ago, as well as it honors my precious mother. Both wanted to be remembered by all the love and the helping hand they offered so often — and by what they left behind in their exquisite and meaningful art.  That was who they were.  Shaloha. The bulk of my father’s artistic legacy is settled now in New York City, his home of homes —  in such good company.   Shipments, first from Oregon, and, more recently, from Hawaii, brought his images, books, publications,...