Later, after the adrenaline drained and the ranger left, we started referring to him as The Squirrel. (more…)
We three Berkeley friends, graduating seniors, headed off on a spring weekday for Point Reyes National Seashore, north of San Francisco. We either didn’t have class that day or didn’t care; it was the end of the year, the end of college. We wanted to frolic on the tremendous flat sand beach, get high, and fling the Frisbee. (more…)
A Facebook friend posted a couple of weeks ago that she was selling all of her vinyl.
She had several hundred LPs to divest, including some still in their wrappers – Beatles, Eric Clapton. She obviously knew their market value. And she admitted to no nostalgia: “I’m getting on with my life,” she wrote. (more…)