I Met One of the Cool Kids, and I Think She Likes Me!

Finally one of the cool kids in high school sat down at my table at lunch time. In terms of high school drama, this would be about a 10, but, seeing that I graduated about 30 years ago, maybe I don't get to garner quite that many points.

Then again, how many of my readers can say that they made contact with an old classmate by writing a fan letter? And that the recipient actually took it graciously, sincerely, and thoughtfully? O.S., noted artist who has shown bi-coastally, responded to my note, addressed to her San Francisco dealer, and we've finally met in the uber chic gallery district of west Chelsea!

My own art career has been a little different, well, maybe a lot different. And O.S. is at least still producing work. Me, my art is done in fits and starts right now. And I have no dealer on the horizon.

But both of us have done a little bit of writing, a little art criticism, and that is an interesting coincidence. She's sticking it out in the New York world, whereas I am holed up in Bali. She definitely has more energy than I do. She was going to hit at least 3 galleries that afternoon, and there was no way I would be tagging along.

But we had a great conversation, and my daughter joined in, too. All in all, a very pleasant reunion.

It is unfortunate that so many of us are going through personal agony in high school, and are plagued with self doubt. It is just so much easier to reach out as an adult. Glad I did.

Carol Lay, a Cartoonist You Oughta Meet

http://www.waylay.com

Paris, Hilton, Hoosgow, Potatoes

Everyone's talking about today's sentencing of Paris Hilton to 45 days in the Century Regional Detention Facility.

Okay, I'll get this out of the way first: I feel sorry for her mom. I, too, am the mother of a 26 year old. We hate to see our kids suffer.

NOW:

It's great to see that in America, where Haliburton execs and investors can make a fortune by starting a war, corruption is NOT necessarily alive and well. I mean, even 20,000 fans who think they lead mundane lives, inferior to a spoiled heiress, cannot intervene with the letter of the law.

I would hate to see my kids do a stretch in the jar for driving with a suspended license, but, on the other hand, my kids would figure out a way to take public transport or rely on their many good friends to get from place to place, should they ever commit the kind of offense that suspends a driver's license.

I am sure that a few other readers of this humble blog have flashed, as I did, on the US government's successful prosecution of obnoxious psychopath Al Capone, on tax evasion charges. The executioner sometimes has to use a sack of potatoes if he doesn't have an axe at hand.

I admit that once or twice, when trying to see if the Simpson's were on tv, I fantasized that it might be a good idea to lock up Paris Hilton on charges of promoting empty consumerism, glamorizing lack of purpose, and extoling partying as a viable lifestyle. This is the girl who has to surround herself with skankier types so that she will look better. Look how she dragged Britney Spears around the club scene like a Raggedy Ann accessory (right before the latter ended up going bonkers... hmmm). So. Like Eliot Ness, I will have to console myself with the knowledge that the little so-and-so will have to receive her punishment under the heading of driving with a suspended license.

Sometimes I feel reeeeeally good about our all-American justice system.

Wonders of the Internet

Whatever did we DO in the days before we could instantly upload gross photos?

Those of you who know me, send me an email and I'll give you the rest of the series of photos, which a friend of mine titled, Grandma in Total Denial.

Go ahead and eat that slice of pie.

Heat Wave

During this short stint in the bay area, I am experiencing a rare heat wave.

It started on Friday, with beautiful sunny weather and a workout at my old gym, which used to be called What a Racquet. Good old Daly City, fog capital of Northern California from June through August, was looking as beautiful as ever.

The weather just kept getting warmer, and yesterday (auspicious 5/6/7) my sister in law & I sat on wrought iron chairs on a shaded cement patio in The Embarcadero and ate salads and did not get cold. For the first time ever, I sat in a movie theatre in short sleeves and no sweater or shawl. We saw Lives of Others, which deservedly won the Oscar for Best Foreign Film. When we exited the cinema and touched the balmy air, we laughed and I exclaimed, what is this, Chicago in July?

I rode the BART train to Daly City, rode with the rag top down, stars above, all the way to the little beach house. Dreams that come true...

I drove past Devils Slide and for the first time could smell the wildflowers, crushed and drying in the heat.

I awoke this morning and opened the doors and windows to let in the warm morning air. Incredible. A workout at the gym and a zillion other convertibles coming out of mothballs and everyone looking happy. Super Nachos from El Gran Amigo, the tacqueria in Moss Beach. A really great adjustment from Dr. Robertshaw the best chiropractor in Ess Eff, and back to the beach. Got a call from my hubby who told me that he snorkeled with three black tip reef sharks, 5 feet to 7 feet, and that he had but 6 hours left in Bali.

I watched the sun set plainly and boldly behind the Farallone Islands. That happens about four times a year. Undoubtedly it happened last night and so tomorrow it'll be setting just north of them. But what a breathtaking thing to witness. I cracked a bottle of Italian wine given me by Michael and Kathy Rain, and thought of them with gratitude.

The western sky still glows with Maxfield Parrish gold, smudging amazingly to light pink, lavender, and corn flower blue. What a day...

Capper