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BIO
Memories of the 1950s include a glam mother, a workaholic father, my bike, Santa Claus, saddle shoes, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, and nickel candy bars. Back then, I thought everyone was clean, safe, well-fed, and white. Just like me.
I came "of age" in the 1960s, a time of unrest and awakenings. Because I'm a slow learner, I woke up a little later than some.
Now that I have the time, and maybe a teaspoon of wisdom, I write about losing something and finding something else.
I write t​o tidy the mess, to plumb the depths.
Most of all, I write to
stroke the underdog;
reveal secrets;
raise the dead.
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