|
I don’t want to give you the impression I’m obsessed with old armchairs. It’s just that when I see one by the side of the road, pleading desperately to be adopted, or find one languishing among the clutter of a second-hand shop, it’s like a seeing an abandoned puppy with big, sad eyes pleading, “Please take me home; we’d be so comfortable together!” Old furniture, with a checkered past and lots of character, always calls to me. Rich frequently has to drag me away from pieces that wouldn’t fit in our home unless we moved to a larger place. He’s right, of course. But still, the temptation… Not all temptation can — or should — be resisted. Take these two mid-century classics.  The Buick (left) and the Chevy are enjoying a comfortable old age on our sunporch. The Buick (left) came with the apartment I sublet from friends in the mid-eighties. When Rich and I became an item, I felt the Buick needed a partner, too. And I rejoiced when I found the Chevy, in disreputable condition with a $50 price tag, sitting forlornly outside a second-hand furniture shop in the rain. “Old empty chairs are not empty in reality,” says Turkish author Mehmet Murat ildan, “memories always sit there!” So true! I often wonder who loved these chairs before we took them in and gave them a makeover. Because they turned up in the Berkeley-Oakland area, I imagine they each began life in upscale digs on the high hills, descended into the shabby comfort of professors’ homes on the lower slopes, and eventually found their way down to student housing and the indignity of garage sales in the flatlands. No matter. The Buick and Chevy are part of our family now. True, they are way too large for our small cottage, the fabric on their backs is fading, and the seats’ once-firm underpinning gets squishier every year. But life just wouldn’t be the same without them.  Carolyn Flannery, queen of rescued chairs (and founder and CEO of Make It Home) “It's not just furniture, it’s not just a place to sit,” says Carolyn Flannery, the queen of second-hand furniture in my part of the world. “A sofa is a place to read a child a book. A dining table is a place to gather with family and create memories. A bed gives them a stronger base to sleep well, so they can actually work well. So it's not just furniture, it's dignity and hope.” Carolyn knows all about the positive effects of furnishings. In the past five years she’s outfitted 2785 homes for 6779 people in need, thanks to her not-for-profit company, Make It Home.  Carolyn started out at the high end of the industry, selling antiques then doing interior decorating, while raising four kids and providing respite care for foster children needing a safe place to stay for a short while. “I found out that foster kids didn't get anything when they aged out at 18,” she told me. “California's now providing some [support] services up to 24 . But still. An 18-year-old doesn't know much. Think about it. So I'm 18 years old, somebody has just luckily given me a Section Eight voucher for housing, but now I've got to set up all my bills. I've got to cook for myself, I've got to clean, I've got to manage rent and all the expenses that go along with being an adult.” She paused and added, “It’s a very hard struggle. Quite honestly, they might think being homeless is easier.” Which is why 25% of kids aging out of foster care wind up living on the street.  A homeless teen on the street in Saratoga County, NY. Photo: DoSomething In 2020, when Carolyn was ready for a career change, she decided to bring her various vocations together into Make It Home. She raised money through private donations and grants, and got 1200 square feet of donated space in San Francisco. Furniture came pouring in from people isolated at home during the pandemic; it seemed everyone was looking around and thinking, “Why didn’t I get rid of that years ago?” Opening day was September 9, 2020 — a day seared into the memory of everyone in the Bay Area, because that was the morning we all woke up to the apocalyptic sight of a flaming red sky filled with drifting ash.  On September 9, 2020, the entire Bay Area looked like this. The North Complex wildfire burned 318,935 acres before it was finally contained three months later. When Carolyn announced she was giving free furnishings to wildfire victims as well as foster care kids, she was flooded with requests. And yet more donations. Since then she’s grown from a one-woman operation to a staff of nine, plus about a dozen regular volunteers in the furniture refurbishing workshop, and dozens more who take on such tasks as assembling kitchen kits from donated housewares and staffing outreach booths at public gatherings. Her client base is anyone referred by one of the 120 agencies she works with. She serves those who have suffered through domestic violence, natural disasters, PTSD, homelessness; community spaces like rec centers for teens; foster families taking kids; and so many more. Her collection is now housed in an 11,000-foot donated warehouse in San Rafael, and a new grant made it possible to purchase permanent space which they'll move to in the very near future. For Carolyn, keeping useful furniture in circulation is something of a crusade. Her efforts have resulted in keeping 3063 tons of garbage out of the landfill. OK, I admit, that’s a drop in the bucket compared to the global total of 2.12 billion tons of landfill waste generated each year, but you have to start somewhere. “Just because you decided you don't want it anymore, it's still your responsibility to get it into the hands of someone else who can use it,” she says. “And if you set it out on your driveway, if it gets picked up and taken by somebody, that's fantastic. But if you put it out there and it gets rained on? It gets wrecked, and it sits there for forever.” You can imagine how upsetting that was to me, with my deep affection for the upholstered community. How could we treat our overstuffed friends so callously, when there are so many people waiting to love them? For those beyond the geographic reach of Make It Home, there are plenty of options, including Goodwill, Habitat for Humanity, and countless local charities, to say nothing of flea markets and garages sales. When you give furniture its freedom, there's no telling what adventures will ensue. Imagine the surprise of this ordinary, domestic armchair when it found itself being transformed into Art. “Make It Home has taken over my life completely,” Carolyn told me. “I work 80 to 100 hours a week. Within my marriage, we have agreed that this is a 10 year window, so I've got four years left, and I’m going to work towards transitioning out of the everyday control of the organization.” “What will you do then?” I asked, picturing her lolling on a beach in Tahiti drinking rum from a coconut shell. “I'll paint furniture,” she said, glancing wistfully at the nearby workshop, where Chris was fiddling with a chair while his three-legged dog Bestie snoozed at his feet. “Spend my days in the workshop.” I’m not sure, but I think the chairs surrounding her were actually smiling. I know I was.  Who says chairs can't smile? Photo: "Turquoise Kiss" pop art chair, by Color Life FINDING HOPE This story is part of my series of blog posts exploring ways we help each other find hope in this worrying world. Know someone you think should be featured? Tell me more in the comments section below. See all the posts in this series. DON'T MISS OUT! If you haven't already, take a moment to subscribe so I can let you know when I publish my weekly posts. Just send me an email and I'll take it from there. [email protected] SUBSCRIBED BUT NOT GETTING POST ANNOUNCEMENTS? Check your spam folder. Internet security is in a frenzy these days. If you still can't find it, please let me know. FOR FURTHER READING My bestselling travel memoirs & guides Cozy Places to Eat in Seville My new book: My San Francisco If you haven't read My San Francisco yet, you can order it HERE. You can purchase a signed paperback edition, in person or online, at Rebound Bookstore in San Rafael, CA Already read this book? I invite you to leave a review HERE. GOING SOMEWHERE? Enter any destination or topic, such as packing light or road food, in the search box below. If I've written about it, you'll find it.  Just because we're older doesn't mean we have to act like grown-ups all the time. The author with Phil, Babs, Rich, and Mike. Photo: Tobey Hiller “In this game of life, I seem to be headed for ‘extra innings,’” my friend Jerry wrote last week in the invitation to his 95th birthday party and jazz concert. We carried lawn chairs and picnic blankets to a shady spot under the trees and settled in. Although I’m the least musical person on the planet, even I could tell Jerry’s lush, elegant, velvety jazz was magical. Adapting Thelonious Monk’s classic ’Round About Midnight, Jerry called it ’Round About 10:30. But don’t think for a moment that means Jerry is slowing down. He lives in his own home, drives himself everywhere, and hasn’t lost his gift for a mesmerizing riff.  That's Jerry (a retired college professor of music) on the keyboard, and his son Michael Moore (no, not the filmmaker, the award-winning musician) on the clarinet. How do people become “super-agers” like Jerry? Rich’s Aunt Mary lived to 103, and when I asked for her secret of longevity, she told me, “I drink one of these every day,” and held up a glass of whiskey. My 94-year-old Ohio neighbor, who still repainted the exterior of his house every five years all by himself, attributed his lifespan to munching celery daily. Hmmm, which regimen should I adopt? Neither. Science says that while diet and drinking habits matter, as do lots of other factors, according to a new study published by the National Institutes of Health, the super-agers’ one common denominator is (drumroll, please) lots of social relationships. Some call this “social capital.” It turns out having relationships with others in our community creates a common stockpile of interest, trust, and reciprocity that changes how — and how long — we live. We’ve all read about the epidemic of loneliness that’s as hazardous to our health as a cigarette habit. Conversely, “Your chances of dying over the next year are cut in half by joining one group,” said Robert Putnam, 84, whose landmark book, Bowling Alone, introduced America to the idea that social capital exists and it has value.  “Community connectedness is not just about warm fuzzy tales of civic triumph,” Putnam explained. “In measurable and well-documented ways, social capital makes an enormous difference in our lives. Social capital makes us smarter, healthier, safer, richer, and better able to govern a just and stable democracy.” Unfortunately, our social capital is dwindling. Instead of joining clubs, going to church socials, and participating in civic organizations, most of us are home watching TV and scrolling through our phones.  Without the fellowship forged in coffee mornings, basement meetings, and potluck suppers, it’s become a lot harder (as you may have noticed) to maintain a just and stable democracy. So, no pressure, but if we’re going to turn things around, we need to start by forming closer connections with one another. And it can be done. For proof, we need look no further than Ireland’s pub culture. “My grandfather’s pub outside of Dublin was a gathering space,” said John Crowley, owner of Aqus Cafe in Petaluma, CA. “From the age of 12 to 22, I worked in my family business. It was a basic community center where everybody met: the mayor and the bricklayers and the teachers... In Ireland, when you move community, you go down the local pub and you meet everybody. Coming to California, I wanted a place that I could hang out and have a glass of wine, and my grandmother have a cup of tea, and my kids have a soda. But that doesn't really exist in America.” Then one evening, when his wife and kids were out of town, and John was channel surfing, bored out of his mind, inspiration struck. “I sent out an email to a couple of my friends and said, ‘How about we meet next Saturday in Volpi’s at eight o'clock, and at nine o'clock we'll go to Graziano, and at ten o'clock we'll go someplace else.' I remember the first night, sitting in Volpi’s, thinking, ‘Is anybody going to show up?’”  Owner John Volpi (90) stopped playing his accordion in the back bar last year, but it's still one of my favorite watering holes. The partially open door is where deliveries were snuck in during Prohibition. Not to keep you in suspense, John's pub crawl was so popular it was repeated every few months and grew to 100+ people. “Very quickly, we realized that we needed themes on these things,” he told me. “And some of the themes were: bring a photograph of yourself as a teenager, or bring the last postcard you got, or my favorite, bring a book that changed your life.” John kept his day job as a software engineer while running pub nights for ten years. And then in 2006, he opened Aqus Cafe with the idea of creating a gathering space akin to his grandfather’s pub. I first discovered Aqus two years ago, when Rich and I stumbled out of a meeting with our estate lawyer. If there’s anything more demoralizing than having long conversations about our respective deaths, it’s having long conversations about the tax consequences of our respective deaths. Rich and I were in serious need of a restorative coffee, and in Aqus we found the cappuccino came with a side of mesmerizing bulletin board notices.  The bulletin board at Aqus Cafe. "It's like a non-fiction novel," said RIch. "Each chapter more interesting than the last." We wanted to do everything hosted by the café: community dinners, conversation groups, poetry readings, musical evenings, and art exhibitions. They were organizing “Drinks with Shrinks” for therapists; “The Written Word” for writers, editors, publishers, and book jacket designers; coffee mornings for seniors; dinners for retired educators, for nonprofits, for French speakers… “Why couldn’t this stuff be happening in our town?” I remember grumbling enviously to Rich. Petaluma’s half an hour's drive away, making Aqus a bit distant to be our local. After interviewing John on Friday, I realized it wouldn’t take much to start, say, one community-building effort in my town. I could steal John’s idea and have people meet at our local coffee house, bringing a book that changed their life. Hmmm. (Rich, stop rolling your eyes. It’ll be fun. And not that much work. Trust me!)  What books have changed your life? Photo: Booklist Queen Community, says John, not only fights loneliness, it dispels fear and distrust. “We're growing up getting terrified,” he said. “I remember when I first came to the United States, I stayed with my brother just the other side of town. And I was shocked by his kids, who were having breakfast every morning with milk cartons with pictures of missing children on them. I felt like if this is first thing you see every morning, of course you're gonna be scared of your neighbor, scared of everybody.”  These ads appeared on milk cartons in the 1980s and 1990s; they were discontinued when the Amber Alert System was developed in 1996. The antidote, John said, is getting to know your neighbors. Whether it’s a walking club, birdwatching society, or environmental justice committee, getting together regularly with a mixed bag of neighbors builds our social capital. We learn to get along and work together — yes, even when we don’t share identical political, social, and cultural perspectives. And learning to work together with diverse people gives us the skills and connections we need if we're going to make the world more livable. “Ask yourself,” John suggested, “what should we be doing now that in five years’ time, we’ll wish we had done?” Community gatherings at Aqus. To me, these look like a lot more fun than scrolling through my phone and browsing Netflix. FINDING HOPE This story is part of my series of blog posts exploring ways we help each other find hope in this worrying world. Know someone you think should be featured? Tell me more in the comments section below. See all the posts in this series. DON'T MISS OUT! If you haven't already, take a moment to subscribe so I can let you know when I publish my weekly posts. Just send me an email and I'll take it from there. [email protected] SUBSCRIBED BUT NOT GETTING POST ANNOUNCEMENTS? Check your spam folder. Internet security is in a frenzy these days. If you still can't find it, please let me know. FOR FURTHER READING My bestselling travel memoirs & guides Cozy Places to Eat in Seville My new book: My San Francisco If you haven't read My San Francisco yet, you can order it HERE. You can purchase a signed paperback edition, in person or online, at Rebound Bookstore in San Rafael, CA Already read this book? I invite you to leave a review HERE. GOING SOMEWHERE? Enter any destination or topic, such as packing light or road food, in the search box below. If I've written about it, you'll find it.  Are closer communities the answer to sustainable living? This is Petaluma Avenue Homes, an affordable cohousing community in Sebastopol, CA. “Any group that feels obligated to include ‘Are you a sex cult?’ on its frequently asked questions page probably has something of a public relations problem, even when the answer is, ‘No,’” observes journalist Jon Brooks. You can see his point. He was writing about Lafayette Morehouse, a commune founded in 1968 whose residents still embrace a “responsible hedonism” philosophy. “Seriously," says their website, "we are in many ways fairly traditional, suburban families and individuals, but we’re also a group exploring pleasurable living, which qualifies us as an alternative lifestyle.”  Facebook photo of a Lafayette Morehouse gathering in 2019 On their 20-acre plot in Lafayette, CA, members paint their houses purple because “We think it only fair to let people know that they are entering an unusual situation.” For the curious there are courses such as “Saying Yes to Pleasure.” Friskier members of the public are invited to games nights during which “Playing the structured games often affords an experience of surprising intimacy, insight, and laughter.” What games? I don’t know, but I suspect we’re not talking about Scrabble and Parcheesi… So while they wouldn’t define themselves as a sex cult, clearly Lafayette Morehouse is a “fairly traditional, suburban family” — with benefits. But that’s us humans for you. We cannot resist experimenting with our living conditions. Since the dawn of civilization we’ve attempted to bring about Utopia — or at least provide a more efficient way to organize meals, share tools, and avoid the existential angst of loneliness. From Plato’s ideal of a family-free society to Medieval monasteries to the celibate Shakers to the free love and organic vegetable Mother Goddess hippie farms, every generation has had a go at redefining how humans should live together.  At 68 Brother Arnold Hadd is one of the last two living Shakers. Turns out celibacy is not an effective strategy for growth. Photo: Lucas Foglia for The New York Times What’s the latest? And just how eccentric do you have to be to participate? Incredibly, the twenty-first century has come up with something rarely seen in modern times: a practical model that works for ordinary people. It’s about grouping slightly smaller homes and apartments to create natural opportunities for social interaction. For anyone contemplating a move these days, they’re something to consider. The three main styles are cohousing, pocket neighborhoods, and co-living spaces. Cohousing is the most sociable; everyone has their own home but gathers regularly for meals, work, and recreation. Pocket neighborhoods are clusters of homes and townhouses, rather like the charming, old-fashioned villages you see in Agatha Christie movies, only without the dead body. Interaction is less structured. Co-living is much like a traditional boarding house, with private accommodations and shared kitchens and workspaces. Every community has its own rules and terminology because hey, original thinking is the whole point. “The growth of co-living arrangements is predicted to significantly increase, with estimates suggesting the market will grow from $13.3 billion to $63.8 billion by 2028,” reports the Lincoln Institute of Land Management. “As housing in urban areas becomes more expensive, co-living offers an affordable alternative, especially for young professionals and students. By sharing living spaces and communal facilities, residents can significantly reduce expenses such as rent, utilities, and maintenance.” Most of us grew up in housing designed for the post WWII nuclear family. In 1950, nearly all Americans — 87% — were married. By 2022, it was just 47%.  Our single-family homes were developed in the post-war years for a very different family lifestyle. Our households are increasingly non-nuclear: single parent, multi-generational, solo seniors, roommates, and other configurations abound. Living in non-traditional households can make it easier than ever to feel adrift in a global society. “As a species, we apparently evolved genetically and culturally to live in groups of 50 to 150 people,” says professor of population studies Paul Ehrlich. “It is, of course, still not clear whether any sustainable social system can be devised for a small-group animal like Homo sapiens, struggling to live in groups of millions and even billions.”  Current population of the world: 8,237,968,065. Today people are exploring all sorts of alternatives to single family homes set on separate plots of land. Would you be happier with dozens of close neighbors, regular communal meals, and shared workshops? Is the lifestyle sustainable over time among a mixed group of I-gotta-be-me Americans? “Oh, yeah,” says Richard Senghas. “It’s like an oasis.” And he should know. As a newly hired linguistic anthropology professor at Sonoma State University, Richard helped found the cohousing community in Cotati, CA, where he and his family have lived for more than two decades. Called FrogSong for the croaking chorus arising from the site’s marshy areas, the 2.34-acre development is designed on the condominium model. The 62 residents buy their own apartments or townhouses and share common work and play areas. Residents have no direct control over who may join, but with bylaws requiring decisions by consensus and a commitment to pitch in preparing frequent shared meals, it tends to attract people with the same outlook.  FrogSong's main gate FrogSong’s Common House officially opened October 10, 2003, a date commemorated every year as Hearth Day. “It's a non-moving holiday,” says Richard. “But then the most adjacent weekend, we have a whole weekend of things: we have a breakfast together, and a pajama contest, and a no talent show....” It’s small wonder that half the units are still occupied by their original 2003 owners. Everyone parks at the periphery and walks home via community pathways, passing other units. There are communal meals at least twice a week, and everyone takes turns with the shopping, cooking, and cleanup. In an emergency, you don’t have to look far for help. “I can speak personally about that.” Richard’s eyes welled up. “I always get emotional….” He took a deep breath and told me about his wife’s illness. “Tina got really sick. She had double pneumonia so she had to go into the emergency department. And we had this kid in kindergarten. I called [my neighbor] Heather, and I said, ‘Hey, Heather, could I bring Ursula to you until we figure out what's happening?’ And she said, ‘Sure.’ And she called the network, and they coordinated for the next ten days taking care of Ursula. She always had clean clothes. She always had meals. She was brought to school. I saw her whenever I could, but I was a new, junior faculty member trying to get all my courses going. People helped. And it made such a difference.” (Tina’s fine now. Thanks for asking.)  The Amish still pitch in to build barns — and community. This is how Homo sapiens has survived so long in a frequently hostile world: cooperation. And that happens through community. We are small-group animals, happiest in packs, like dogs and dolphins. It’s no coincidence that we find loneliness worrying; loneliness is nature’s way of sending a signal to our brain that something needs to change. That doesn’t necessarily mean moving to an organic farm or embracing the mantra (or practitioners) of “responsible hedonism.” Nor does it require more technology; I was aghast at how many apps are flooding the market offering conversations with AI that will give you “emotional support to ease your feelings of loneliness.” The cure for loneliness isn’t more time with clever machines, it’s more time with congenial people. That can happen in many, many ways, and thanks to these collective housing enterprises, we’ve added all sorts of interesting new options to the human repertoire.  FINDING HOPE This story is part of my series of blog posts exploring ways we help each other find hope in this worrying world. Know someone you think should be featured? Tell me more in the comments section below. See all the posts in this series. DON'T MISS OUT! If you haven't already, take a moment to subscribe so I can let you know when I publish my weekly posts. Just send me an email and I'll take it from there. [email protected] SUBSCRIBED BUT NOT GETTING POST ANNOUNCEMENTS? Check your spam folder. Internet security is in a frenzy these days. If you still can't find it, please let me know. FOR FURTHER READING My bestselling travel memoirs & guides Cozy Places to Eat in Seville My new book: My San Francisco If you haven't read My San Francisco yet, you can order it HERE. You can purchase a signed paperback edition, in person or online, at Rebound Bookstore in San Rafael, CA Already read this book? I invite you to leave a review HERE. GOING SOMEWHERE? Enter any destination or topic, such as packing light or road food, in the search box below. If I've written about it, you'll find it.  A fashion statement to consider, next time you're headed to a wedding? Who thinks up hats like this? Who wears them — and where? How does anyone put together an outfit that pairs well with a reproduction of a full English breakfast? And seriously, what are those purple things at the top? To me, they look alarmingly like the pig’s ears I once impulsively ordered in a Portuguese café, only to discover they are every bit as rubbery and tasteless as you’d imagine. I found this outrageous confection online, listed as a wedding hat and offered at a deep discount (go figure!). Tempting, but no thanks. I did admire the sassiness, though. “In difficult times, fashion is always outrageous,” said Elsa Schiaparelli, a mid-twentieth century Avant Garde fashion designer. She created jewelry with Salvador Dali and came up with monkey fur ankle boots that were the talk of her generation. Footwear is still making headlines, and never more so than during this month’s high heel race held as part of Madrid’s Pride Week. To qualify, heels had to measure at least 15 centimeters (5.9 inches), and frankly, just eyeballing those stilettos made my tootsies wince in sympathy. Who could walk in them, let alone run? My hat is off to these intrepid joggers! "The only thing that separates us from the animals,” drawls Olympia Dukakis’s character in Steel Magnolias, “is our ability to accessorize." Obviously we have a few more things going for us, like language, math, science, and the capacity to produce endless Star Wars spinoffs. But Olympia has a point. We spend an extraordinary amount of time trying to put our best foot forward. According to Evolution and Human Behavior, when you add exercise, diet, and hygiene to dressing and grooming, spiffing ourselves up occupies one sixth of our time, a lifetime total of well over 100,000 hours. Often we’re putting in those hours for very practical reasons; how we feel about ourselves and present ourselves to the world can help us find a job, pursue an education, and enjoy a more vibrant social life. When we’re going through lean financial times and can’t afford to spruce up, it can be tougher to achieve our goals. In 1999, a woman in her seventies named Barbara Lee decided to do something about that.  Barbara Lee in 2022, age 95 It all started with a remark by Mary K. Sweeny from Homeward Bound of Marin, which helps the unhoused find shelter, jobs, and stability. “I have a few women here who have set up job interviews,” she told Barbara, “and they’re ready to go but they have nothing to wear.” Barbara got a few friends together, assembled some gently worn second-hand clothing, and helped the applicants put together wardrobes that would let them walk into the interview with confidence, secure in the knowledge they looked appropriate and had enough good clothes for two weeks on the job if they got it.  Is it me, or is this advice totally confusing? Skirt? Pants? Flats? Heels? Help! By providing clothes and workplace fashion advice, Barbara became one of the unsung heroes that I’ve been writing about all summer. In these troubling times, I find it comforting to remember that every day, all over the world, ordinary people are coming down to breakfast and saying excitedly to their husband, wife, roommates, and/or cats, “I’ve just had a brilliant idea. What do you think of this?” Often the ideas aren’t particularly glamorous or newsworthy, and probably won’t be talked about over cocktails among the glitterati, but in their own quiet way, they are making a big difference. Take David Blenkle, who runs a car service in California’s Santa Cruz mountains. He began providing free rides to veterans heading to the VA and job seekers on their way to interviews. “Blenkle has become a lifeline for hundreds of people in his community who would otherwise not have had access to reliable transportation,” wrote journalist Andy Corbley.  David Blenkle in his Ford Mustang Mach-E giving the shaka, Hawaii's iconic "hang loose" sign. Engineer Patrick Schlott spotted a different service gap: a dead zone without cell towers in his area of rural Vermont. “I realized, wow, there’s no cell service for 10 miles in either direction,” he told reporters. That's when he decided to retrofit a pair of old-fashioned pay phones and install them at the North Tunbridge General Store. He removed the coin slot so neighbors can phone for free; Patrick even picks up the service charges and helps transfer calls.  At the North Turnbridge General Store in rural Vermont, old-fashioned land lines keep residents connected in an area without cell service. Similarly, Barbara Lee spotted a community need and envisioned a way to help. She established a second-hand clothing store, originally Image for Success and now called Bloom, which has long been my favorite resource for vintage dresses and jewelry. My luckiest find happened there last summer. Rich and I had just accepted an invitation to a fancy party, and it struck me that I had nothing remotely suitable to wear. As it happened, at that very moment we were walking past Bloom, so I popped in on the off chance. Ten minutes later I’d purchased a gorgeous silk dress that has become my go-to fave. That doesn’t happen every time, but still… Of course, Bloom’s most important role plays out in the vast back room full of clothes racks and volunteer stylists working their magic.  In downtown San Rafael, CA, Bloom's back room is a treasure trove of contemporary fashion. Here stylists help clients choose just the right stuff. “Clients get an hour and a half with a personal stylist to help them curate a wardrobe,” explains Tuyen (it’s pronounced “Twin”) Fiack, who oversees the program. She’s the chief program officer of economic opportunity and social justice for our YWCA, which worked closely with Bloom for decades and then acquired it in 2022 to keep it on a more sound financial footing. Tuyen explained, “We always ask, ‘What is the purpose of the clothes? Is it for school? Is it for work? What kind of work do you do? What’s your style? Classic? Chic? Bohemian?’ And then the stylist will pick and choose, provide options, and provide some training in terms of how you mix and match, and other styling tips.” Boy, could I have used that kind of help when I started my first office job! Bloom now has between fifty and sixty volunteers who outfit a thousand people every year, including women and men seeking work and lots of kids who don't have sufficient clothing for school.  Tuyen added, “This one young woman came in, and one of our amazing stylists helped her, as always offering choices: ‘Do you like this? And this?’ And because she was coming from a domestic violence situation, for her it was the first time she actually got to choose what she would be wearing.” My heart went out to that young woman. And I felt a rush of gratitude to Barbara Lee and all volunteers everywhere, working quietly behind the scenes to provide fresh resources and opportunities when they’re needed most. Active compassion builds resilient communities, the kind that are strong enough to sustain us through good times and bad. It reminds us how connected we really are. “Volunteering is the ultimate exercise in democracy,” says consultant Dr. Syed Almashhadi. “You vote in elections once a year, but when you volunteer, you vote every day about the kind of community you want to live in.” Do I want to live in the kind of community where people wear huge, flamboyant hats? Luckily for me, this craze hasn't caught on in California or Seville. Yet. If it ever does, I'm counting on Bloom as my resource.  Stilton cheese, book club favorites, and teatime themed hats at Ascot Racecourse in England. FINDING HOPE This story is part of my series of blog posts exploring ways we help each other find hope in this worrying world. Know someone you think should be featured? Tell me more in the comments section below. See all the posts in this series. DON'T MISS OUT! If you haven't already, take a moment to subscribe so I can let you know when I publish my weekly posts. Just send me an email and I'll take it from there. [email protected] SUBSCRIBED BUT NOT GETTING POST ANNOUNCEMENTS? Check your spam folder. Internet security is in a frenzy these days. If you still can't find it, please let me know. FOR FURTHER READING My bestselling travel memoirs & guides Cozy Places to Eat in Seville My new book: My San Francisco If you haven't read My San Francisco yet, you can order it HERE. You can purchase a signed paperback edition, in person or online, at Rebound Bookstore in San Rafael, CA Already read this book? I invite you to leave a review HERE. GOING SOMEWHERE? Enter any destination or topic, such as packing light or road food, in the search box below. If I've written about it, you'll find it.  Warning! Reading often leads to thinking. Conversation about reading often leads to action. They say you never forget your first time. I was a newlywed, newly arrived in Ohio, and felt enormously flattered when a kind acquaintance invited me to join a prestigious book club that had been meeting for more than a century. That month’s selection was Madame Bovary, in which a bored 19th century housewife has affairs with inappropriate men then makes a series of ever more staggeringly selfish and brainless decisions that destroy her family and the lives of others. Not, in my view, a very sympathetic character.  Some book clubs use prompts like this card. As you have probably already guessed, Madame Bovary is not on my short list. Re-reading the book before the meeting, I disliked the protagonist more than ever. Luckily my second-hand paperback edition included an introduction by a literary luminary, so I memorized a few phrases to toss around in case I needed to say something nice about the book. And sure enough, minutes after I walked through the door, a man in a blazer — was he actually wearing an ascot? Hard to remember now — asked what I loved most about Madame Bovary. “Flaubert's prose style,” I said. “And how it redefined the novel as an art form.” He looked down his nose at me, as if that the most idiotic remark he’d ever heard, and drifted away. Since that epic fail, I’ve found plenty of book clubs that were tremendous fun, a source of lasting friendships, and a wellspring of exciting ideas. It’s easy to see why people have enjoyed forming reading circles since Socrates and his pals first sat down to discuss the The Illiad in 450 BC. It’s no surprise America now has 13 million book clubs.  What’s trending? Themed gatherings such as the Wine Down Drink Up book club in San Francisco (note to self: give that one a try soon!), the online sci-fi Book Club at the End of the Universe, the Cozy Mystery Book Club for amateur sleuths, New York’s American LGBTQ+ Museum's Lavender Literary Society, and the Green Ideas Book Club for fans of climate-theme fiction (aka “cli-fi”). For introverts, there’s the Silent Book Club; you choose your own book and “gather to read together in quiet camaraderie.” At the end of the hour, you may exchange few gentle remarks … or not. No pressure. My latest literary adventure is Outlaw Bookworms; we read and discuss banned books. Each month's selection has managed to annoy self-appointed censors in schools and the court of public prejudice.  Why were our picks banned? To Kill a Mockingbird’s frankness about race relations in the 1930s “makes people uncomfortable.” The Great Gatsby refers to (gasp!) adultery. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime includes irreverent remarks about religious organizations. This month’s The Perks of Being a Wallflower shows teens engaging in sex, drugs, and same-gender romantic relationships (which obviously never happen in real life, so why would kids need to know how to navigate this stuff?). “Banning books,” said Stephen Chbosky, author of The Perks of Being a Wallflower, “gives us silence when we need speech. It closes our ears when we need to listen. It makes us blind when we need sight.”  Katie (left) and Rachel, founders of Outlaw Bookworms Outlaw Bookworms was launched this spring when long-time friends Rachel and Katie grew alarmed about the rise in censorship. “There's been an exponential increase in the number of books that are being banned,” said Katie, a former middle school English teacher, now a full-time writer. “And not only in schools, but in places for adults, like the Naval Academy… I personally am uncomfortable having one group in our society, whether that's a government or a religious group, dictating what they deem is appropriate for the rest of the public.” For Rachel, a nanny and pet minder, access to books is a very personal issue. “I love reading. I always had to do a lot of reading because I'm dyslexic. And I have dysgraphia [a neurological disorder that makes it physically difficult to write coherently]. I love books. They've saved me at every point in my life. Like, if I was feeling really political, I could find something that mirrored that in a book. Or if I was feeling desperately sad from a breakup, I could find that. Recently I was feeling really overwhelmed, like the rest of the country, and really dark. And so I wanted something that would bring community in.”  Our banned book club meets monthly at Rebound Bookstore. In April, Outlaw Bookworms began meeting in Rebound Bookstore, a cozy second-hand bookshop in nearby San Rafael. “It’s just so warm being literally surrounded by great books,” said Katie. “Here we’ve found connection, purpose, fun, and joy.” Finding a connection with congenial souls is not only enjoyable, it can literally save our lives. “Loneliness,” warned former US Surgeon General Vivek Murthy, “is far more than just a bad feeling — it harms both individual and societal health. It is associated with a greater risk of cardiovascular disease, dementia, stroke, depression, anxiety, and premature death. The mortality impact of being socially disconnected is similar to that caused by smoking up to 15 cigarettes a day.” Yikes!  Human connection heals, sustains, and energizes us, inspiring us to engage in the world in new ways with newfound friends. Katie and Rachel have joined me on the Marin Banned Books Week Committee, and together we work to support other causes as well. These kinds of community connections are surprisingly powerful; they form the cornerstone of civil resistance, which has successfully toppled authoritarian regimes all over the world. Just ask Harvard political scientist Erica Chenoweth, who did the landmark research. “I collected data on all major non-violent and violent campaigns for the overthrow of a government or territorial liberation since 1900,” she said. “The results blew me away. From 1900 to 2006, nonviolent campaigns worldwide were twice as likely to succeed outright as violent insurgencies.”  Erica Chenoweth on civil resistance One reason civil resistance works is that unlike a violent uprising, it engages people from across the social spectrum: students, grandmothers, veterans, LGBTQ+ activists, knitting collectives, pickleball teams, street artists, everyone. And the really stunning part? You only need to rally 3.5% of the population to make change happen. That’s slightly less than the number of Americans who believe lizard-people from outer space have taken over our government. (Yes, I realize that would explain a lot, but let it go, people! It’s genuine fake news!)  A question that a lot of us are asking right now... Why just 3.5%? “No regime loyalists in any country live entirely isolated from the population itself,” Erica explained. “They have friends, they have family, and they have existing relationships that they have to live with in the long term, regardless of whether the leader stays or goes. In the Serbian case, once it became clear that hundreds of thousands of Serbs were descending on Belgrade to demand that Milosevic leave office, policemen ignored the order to shoot on demonstrators. When asked why he did so, one of them said: ‘I knew my kids were in the crowd.’” I get why some people are afraid of books like Erica Chenoweth’s Why Civil Resistance Works. They open our minds to new possibilities, encourage us to take risks, offer hope in place of fear. Which is exactly why they matter. And why the conversations that start in our book clubs can inspire us to find ways to reshape our lives — and our collective future.  “If there is any period one would desire to be born in, is it not the age of Revolution, when the old and new stand side by side?" asked Ralph Waldo Emerson. "This time, like all times, is a very good one, if we but know what to do with it.” FINDING HOPE This story is part of my series of blog posts exploring ways we help each other find hope in this worrying world. Know someone you think should be featured? Tell me more in the comments section below. See all the posts in this series. DON'T MISS OUT! If you haven't already, take a moment to subscribe so I can let you know when I publish my weekly posts. Just send me an email and I'll take it from there. [email protected] SUBSCRIBED BUT NOT GETTING POST ANNOUNCEMENTS? Check your spam folder. Internet security is in a frenzy these days. If you still can't find it, please let me know. FOR FURTHER READING My bestselling travel memoirs & guides Cozy Places to Eat in Seville My new book: My San Francisco If you haven't read My San Francisco yet, you can order it HERE. You can purchase a signed paperback edition, in person or online, at Rebound Bookstore in San Rafael, CA Already read this book? I invite you to leave a review HERE. GOING SOMEWHERE? Enter any destination or topic, such as packing light or road food, in the search box below. If I've written about it, you'll find it.  Josh Duff and the 1500 bikers who escorted him to his prom. Photo: SWNS It’s never easy being different, especially in high school. Just ask the much-bullied Josh Duff, a neurodivergent free-thinker who was dreading his upcoming prom, which he planned to attend alone, in an outfit sewn by his mom. Then his dad reached out to some pals he rode motorcycles with, and the response was astonishing. On prom night, 1500 bikers showed up to escort young Josh to the dance; it was the social highlight of the year, possibly the century, in the town of Swindon, UK. “It’s insane, I’m still in shock,” a grinning Josh told reporters. “I used to say I felt alone, but I don’t feel that way anymore.” Thanks to his new friends and his moment in the spotlight, Josh isn’t too worried now about being mistreated by teen bullies.  This 1983 poster was enormously popular back in the day, especially with people who were tired of being picked on. It was cooperation that enabled our relatively small, weak, inadequately clawed and fanged species to survive for the last 300,000 years and eventually dominate the planet. Communal effort is in our DNA. Look at Amish barn raisings. Dunkirk. The Baltic States’ 1989 Singing Revolution. Not familiar with that one? It started with singing forbidden national songs and led to two million people — one quarter of the populations of Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania — joining hands in a 420-mile human chain of protest spanning all three countries. What did it accomplish? It helped topple the USSR. Now, during equally tumultuous times in our own nation, people keep asking me what we can do to keep hope alive and stand up against bullying and brutality. Until somebody organizes a 3000-mile coast-to-coast human chain of protest — and if that happens I will be the first to sign up! — we can start by looking at more modest opportunities closer to home. Think the little stuff doesn’t matter? It turns out that moral activism — small, unglamorous, everyday good deeds — lays the necessary groundwork for widespread cooperation that leads to massive change. Luckily, opportunities for doing good deeds are lurking all around us, just waiting for us to notice and embrace them. I’ve been writing about them for months, from helping immigrant families to training guide dogs for the blind to finding words of comfort on the darkest days. And national sites such as Volunteer Match can put us in touch with thousands more, from school cafeterias to disaster relief centers.  For me, it often starts with whatever headline is making me craziest at the moment. Right now I’m reeling from the announcement that the federal government has cut a billion dollars in funding for school lunches, meals in childcare centers, and food banks that supplement the diets of the working poor, seniors on fixed incomes, and the destitute. With all the other federal funding that’s drying up, it’s unlikely states will be able to make up the shortfall. Feeling that I needed to offset that disturbing news with a feel-good moment among everyday heroes, on Thursday I went to Marin Community Clinics, the free medical center in nearby Novato, during their weekly grocery giveaway.  Volunteers organize bulk food into family-sized boxes and bags at Marin Community Clinic in Novato, CA. A long line of tables was set up under tents outside the clinic doors. Volunteers were rushing about, re-organizing bulk food into family-sized boxes and bags, making sure each one contained fruit, vegetables, protein (such as fresh eggs or canned tuna), a bag of popcorn for fun, and recipes developed by clinic nutritionists for combining that week’s ingredients into wholesome meals. After an hour of furious activity, the boxes and bags were lined up, ready to distribute, and the walk-up and drive-through lines opened. “Each family gets about $100 to $150 worth of food,” explained Biby, who organizes three weekly food distributions at the free clinics in Novato and San Rafael. “Hold on just a minute—” And she was gone, sorting out some urgent paperwork. Moments later she was back, bringing with her a kind-eyed, mustachioed gentleman. “Let me introduce you to Misael, one of the three staff members including me. Volunteers? We have about 30 here in Novato. The families? There are about 300 each week. They don’t have work, or they are working but it’s not enough, and they need food.”  Misael and Biby, staff members who organize the volunteers and oversee the food distribution As I wandered around, trying not to impede the rapid deployment of carrots and potatoes, I bumped into Lisa, a volunteer I’d worked with at the San Rafael food distribution center. “Biby and Misael are wonderful,” she told me. “And it feels great to be part of this community. I’ve made a wonderful group of friends here. We get different people that come in here for community service work, that come and go, but we have our stable group of people. They can count on us, each week, rain or shine; we’ve been out here when the tents are tipping over. You feel like you’re giving back. And that makes me personally feel good.”  Lisa distributes celery to each family's grocery bag. A lot of people call this kind of giving back “paying it forward,” spreading good karma around, helping create the kind of world that we can count on to step up for us if we’re ever the ones in need. Because let’s face it, between government cuts, rising prices, robots eyeballing all our jobs, and the chaotic global economy, who isn’t a pink slip away from needing free groceries or some other assistance from the Universe? “The most important thing I can add from my own observations is this,” wrote Catherine Ryan Hyde, author of Pay It Forward, the novel in which a young boy’s Pay It Forward school project became a life-changing movement. “Knowing it started from unremarkable circumstances should be a comfort to us all. Because it proves that you don’t need much to change the entire world for the better. You can start with the most ordinary ingredients. You can start with the world you’ve got.”  Each of those 1500 bikers did a single, small favor for one teenage boy and changed his entire world. Josh has now successfully finished his exams and wants to become a pediatric therapist, so he can help other neurodivergent kids navigate their future more successfully. Perhaps in doing so he’ll help more neurotypicals appreciate how much we need people around who don’t think precisely the way we do. “What would happen if the autism gene was eliminated from the gene pool?” asked scientist and autism spokesperson Dr. Temple Grandin. “You would have a bunch of people standing around in a cave, chatting and socializing and not getting anything done.” I’m not sure I agree 100% — I suspect sooner or later somebody would have experimented with fire’s interesting possibilities, invented the wheel, and launched the whole mad enterprise of human civilization. But she has a point. Survival has always been a communal endeavor, requiring all of us to pitch in with whatever ideas we’ve got, however oddball they may seem. “Celebrate weirdness and innovation,” said Anthony Bourdain. “Oddballs should be cherished.” And not just on prom night, but every single day of the year.  Cue music: Born to be Wild FINDING HOPE This story is part of my series of blog posts exploring ways we help each other find hope in this worrying world. Know someone you think should be featured? Tell me more in the comments section below. See all the posts in this series. DON'T MISS OUT! If you haven't already, take a moment to subscribe so I can let you know when I publish my weekly posts. Just send me an email and I'll take it from there. [email protected] SUBSCRIBED BUT NOT GETTING POST ANNOUNCEMENTS? Check your spam folder. Internet security is in a frenzy these days. If you still can't find it, please let me know. FOR FURTHER READING My bestselling travel memoirs & guides Cozy Places to Eat in Seville My new book: My San Francisco If you haven't read My San Francisco yet, you can order it HERE. You can purchase a signed paperback edition, in person or online, at Rebound Bookstore in San Rafael, CA Already read this book? I invite you to leave a review HERE. GOING SOMEWHERE? Enter any destination or topic, such as packing light or road food, in the search box below. If I've written about it, you'll find it.  Words of resilience in Santa Rosa, CA following the devastating 2017 Tubbs Fire. “One day when Troy was four and Scott was two,” my friend Ginnie said during a Sunday picnic, “Scott came running in, tears pouring out of his little eyes, with a big red bite mark on his cheek. ‘What happened?’ I asked. Troy came in after him and said, ‘Scott bit himself!’ I said, ‘Oh, really? How did he do that? It would be kind of tough to reach that spot on his own face.’ And Troy said, ‘He stood on a chair.’” As a great gust of laughter rose from the picnic table, Ginnie added, “And yes, Troy grew up to become a lawyer.” The stories we tell give shape and meaning to our lives, which is why we take such pleasure in offering them to the world. As Groucho Marx put it, “If you’ve heard this story before, don’t stop me, because I’d like to hear it again.”  Right now, I need to hear stories confirming that, as Sam says in Lord of the Rings, “There’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it’s worth fighting for.” That’s why, a few Fridays ago, Rich and I took the train north to Santa Rosa, booked a room in our favorite haunted hotel, and went to hear one of America’s most warm-hearted poets, James Crews. The (allegedly) haunted Hotel La Rose hasn’t changed much since 1907. Or my last visit. As usual, I didn’t sense the ghost boy in the elevator, see the white lady walk through walls, or hear the shrieks of the family who met a grisly end in Room 42. One weird thing: every time I straightened the old portrait on my bedroom wall I’d find it askew again. Supernatural forces or wonky hanging wire? You be the judge. The poetry reading was every bit as comforting as I’d hoped. “Even if no one ever touched you with the tenderness you needed,” James read from his poem The World Loves You Back, “believe that the world has been holding you in its arms since the day you were born.” James and his husband, farmer-poet Brad Peacock, had just published an anthology called Love Is for All of Us. They hadn’t met all of the 100+ contributors face to face and seemed delighted when one showed up unexpectedly at the reading, saying, ‘Hi, I’m page 33!” It didn’t take much to persuade page 33 (aka MJ Arcangelini) to do an impromptu reading.  Brad, James, and MJ at Copperfield's Books in Santa Rosa In Goodbye Kiss, MJ writes, his lover Planted a kiss on my mouth He didn’t care who saw us He was acting in the world He wants to be living in Not the world where that Might have been a Dangerous thing to do… Two old men in love Saying goodbye in A small airport lobby As if there were No one else around.  As the Bard says, "Parting is such sweet sorrow." Brad talked about how proud he’d been to serve as a soldier like the grandfather he’d idolized. And how shattered and shamed he felt when the Air Force learned he was gay and kicked him out for what they labeled an “antisocial personality disorder.” It took him decades to rebuild his life around love and purpose. Now he is once again being defined as an enemy of the state. “At a time when books are being banned simply for their content, without any regard for context,” James wrote in the book’s introduction, “when LGBTQIA+ people are being attacked and ridiculed, with laws placed on our bodies and our right to exist out in the open, we see this book as an antidoted to prejudice. We believe these poems are the exact medicine we need to help us love each other, ourselves, and the world more fully, remembering that no matter who we are, and no matter our situation, we deserve the everyday wonders life offers us.”  Poet Kai Coggin called the book “a declaration of unwavering truth. Within these pages we are safe. We are held. We are loved.” And that is the wonder of words; even when the world isn’t safe or sane, our narratives can create comfort, inspire us to act in hope, and provide a refuge from the firestorm raging around us. In that Santa Rosa bookstore, I realized I was sitting among many who had literally survived a firestorm: the Tubbs Fire of 2017. Sparked by a faulty electrical system on rural Tubbs Lane, sped by winds up to 60 miles an hour, fed by drought-parched land and 5643 buildings, it killed 22 people and ate up 36,807 acres in a three-week rampage. Officials could have sent out an emergency alert to every cellphone in the area but they feared (with good reason) that the entire population would jump in their cars and flee, hampering emergency response efforts. Instead they sent out targeted alerts. Not everyone got the message. “We had no idea how close the fire was,” one resident told Rich. “In the middle of the night my dog’s growling woke me. I got up, looked out the window, and saw my garage was on fire. I woke my wife, grabbed the kids, and we ran outside. Ten minutes later the entire house was gone.” And speaking of first-responder canines, I have written before about the heroic Odin. Like Groucho, I can't resist telling such a good story again.  The Great Pyrenees Odin, who wouldn't leave his goats “Despite the sounds of exploding propane tanks, twisting metal, and the hot swirling winds, Odin refused to leave our family of eight bottle-fed rescue goats,” said Roland Hendel. “He was determined to stay with the goats and I had to let him do it ... I was sure I had sentenced them to a horrific and agonizing death.” Incredibly, all the animals survived. Oden emerged with a singed coat, melted whiskers, and a limp, but he’d remained steadfast, protecting the goats and a few terrified baby deer who joined the little flock. As you can imagine, the community's recovery was long, expensive, and filled with plenty of free and frank discussion about who was at fault and how rebuilding should proceed. Everyone was shell-shocked, especially the children. Teacher Tracy Henry saw a sharp spike in misbehavior among her third-grade students, half of whom had lost their homes to the fire. Her solution? Put them to work writing poetry.  Thanks to the non-profit California Poets in the Schools, poet Margo Perin taught Tracy's third-graders how to get started. “From now on,” wrote eight-year-old Delia Stone, “never give up and never be mean. But when some things are tough, be kind and enjoy the sunlight.” Right now the world feels as preposterous as Troy’s childhood excuses. Men who look like Bond villains insist they have the right to tell us who we may love. To punish us for believing the Constitution’s promise that we could live forever in the country of our birth. To mock us for biting our own cheeks by standing on a chair. But Delia’s right; when things are tough, be kind and enjoy the sunlight. “Life is much wilder, more complex, heartbreaking, weirder, richer, more insane, awful, beautiful and profound than we were prepared for as children,” wrote author Anne Lamott. “The paradox is that in the face of this, we discover that in the smallest moments of taking in beauty, in actively being people of goodness and mercy, we are saved.”  Can one person make a difference? Ask 76-year-old Peter Lang, who grabbed a garden hose and spent all night, alone, fighting the Tubbs Fire as it approached his Safari West Wildlife Preserve. Not one of his 1000 creatures perished. FINDING HOPE This story is part of my series of blog posts exploring ways we help each other find hope in this worrying world. Know someone you think should be featured? Tell me more in the comments section below. See all the posts in this series. DON'T MISS OUT! If you haven't already, take a moment to subscribe so I can let you know when I publish my weekly posts. Just send me an email and I'll take it from there. [email protected] SUBSCRIBED BUT NOT GETTING POST ANNOUNCEMENTS? Check your spam folder. Internet security is in a frenzy these days. If you still can't find it, please let me know. FOR FURTHER READING My bestselling travel memoirs & guides Cozy Places to Eat in Seville My new book: My San Francisco If you haven't read My San Francisco yet, you can order it HERE. You can purchase the paperback edition, in person or online, at Rebound Bookstore in San Rafael, CA Already read this book? I invite you to leave a review HERE. GOING SOMEWHERE? Enter any destination or topic, such as packing light or road food, in the search box below. If I've written about it, you'll find it.  Four kids playing on a California beach. What could possibly go wrong? It seemed like such a no-brainer. Two harassed parents, four of us kids under the age of ten, a long drive, a hot day, and a glimpse of an empty white sand beach on the California coast. “Let’s stop for a swim!” my mom said. We pulled over, tugged on our bathing suits, and dashed into the surf. Everyone was having a grand time splashing about in the waves when we noticed a man running towards us across the sand, waving his arms and shouting. At first we couldn’t make out the words. And then we could. “Get out of the water! Get out now! Sharks! Sharks! SHARKS!”  Cue the theme from Jaws. My parents hauled us out of the sea and onto the beach in under a nanosecond. When he got his breath back, the Good Samaritan explained someone had spotted a shark in the shallows off that very beach a few hours earlier. Nowadays you’d expect warning signs all over the place, but at the time, we just thanked our lucky stars — and the Good Samaritan — that we’d been alerted in time to get out of the water without a disaster. That day I learned an important lesson about California: you never know when it’s going to turn really exciting. Back when I was a kid, the danger talk was all about earthquakes, and the adults in my life cultivated an attitude of insouciance. “You call that an earthquake? It barely hit 3.5 on the Richter scale. Didn’t even rattle the dishes. More wine?” But California has really upped its game with wildfires, floods, droughts, heat waves, tsunamis, rising sea levels, tornadoes, hurricanes, landslides, and torrential downpours known as atmospheric rivers. These days it’s hard to tell the weather channel from a horror movie. Officials urge us to be prepared with go-kits, evacuation plans, and two weeks’ worth of food on hand at all times. Planning for so many kinds of disasters all at once is dizzying. Rain boots by the door for flooding, heavy clothing to protect us from burning embers, head lamps for digging through rubble. I’ve read crossbows are the best defense against zombies, should it come to that; I’m not shopping yet, just making a note. “We need to re-stock the Apocalypse Chow Food Locker,” I told Rich on Thursday. “In case we find ourselves under martial law.” Because on top of everything else, we now have marines deployed in our state, and as countless action movies have demonstrated, this is unlikely to end well. Clearly I’ll need a shedload of emotional-support chocolate to get through this summer.  "The Army is a broadsword, not a scalpel," says Bruce Willis's character, General Devereaux, in The Siege. "Trust me, senator, you do not want the Army in an American city." Spoiler alert: he was so right. As my regular readers know, the Apocalypse Chow Food Locker is the shed Rich built during the pandemic to store the extra supplies that won’t fit into our cottage’s skimpy cupboards. And no, we are not filling it with those grisly emergency rations that last for 20 or 30 years. Have you seen what’s in that stuff? The MayDay Emergency Rations that came with our store-bought go-kit are made of enriched flour, vegetable shortening, sugar, corn syrup, soy flour, cornstarch, potassium sorbate, vitamins, and artificial flavor. If I’m going to subsist on a diet of sugar and starch, why not just eat Oreos? Other emergency rations are no better; just look at the chemicals and artificial ingredients Augason Farms calls “corn chowder.”  Yes, there are trace amounts of corn halfway down that list, but mostly it’s stuff like dipotassium phosphate, tocopherols, and sodium hexmetaphosphate. Call me crazy, but I prefer food I can pronounce, taste, and know contains actual sustenance. Honestly, if the end were near, would you want your last meal to be spam and non-nutritive food additives? Rich and I treat our food locker as an outdoor pantry, and this week I brought older jars and cans into the house and restocked the locker with beans, tuna, rice, and other foods we use all the time. More temperature-sensitive ingredients, such as spices, honey, and chocolate, are kept in our kitchen cupboards.  The Apocalypse Chow Food Locker While we were at it, Rich and I hauled out our emergency go-kit for its annual review, tweaking the contents and replacing outdated energy bars and medicines. We keep the contents in three prioritized parts: 1) a back pack with essentials such as high visibility vests, compass, and maps, 2) a tote bag with the first aid kit and a few clothes, and 3) a box of handy gear like headlamps, rope, and duct tape. (See complete emergency kit contents here.) It was a busy couple of days, and it was only late on Friday, when I was tossing out the last of the outdated first aid supplies, that I realized the implications of what I was doing: getting my affairs in order before No Kings Day. A lot of wild talk had been going around, and while I knew I had the moral and constitutional right to assemble peacefully and speak freely, I couldn’t help but wonder just how exciting things might get in California. On Saturday I attended the protest in the nearest city, San Rafael (population 60,000). In the tradition learned from Spanish friends, I met up beforehand with a dozen amigos at a café near the action. Fortified by espresso and convivial chat, our little rag-tag band then strolled down the street to join the crowd of (I'm guessing) 1500 protesters. The signs were feisty, the mood festive, the orderly expression of solidarity inspiring. Nothing terribly exciting happened. Whew! The summer is just getting started, and there’s no telling what surprises California has up its sleeve. Last year we weathered record-setting natural disasters, and this morning I thought I’d check with the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration to see how many of them had cost California taxpayers seriously big bucks. Instead of the promised statistics, I found this notice: “In alignment with evolving priorities, statutory mandates, and staffing changes, NOAA’s National Centers for Environmental Information (NCEI) will no longer be updating the Billion Dollar Weather and Climate Disasters product.” Good thinking! Who needs those pesky old numbers anyway? Just kidding, I was utterly aghast. Wasn’t that notice akin to saying, “Why should that Good Samaritan race along the beach to warn us about dangers we can’t see?” When did weather become a state secret?  California has more natural disasters than any other state in America; they cost us around $16.3 billion a year. (Those are slightly outdated numbers, and apparently we won’t be seeing any new ones). So far, Rich and I have been lucky. Oh sure, occasionally we’ve been bounced out of bed by earthquakes, forced to flee through rising floodwaters, and suffered unexplained power outages. But we’re still standing and so are the house and the Apocalypse Chow Food Locker. Whatever catastrophes this summer brings, I know there will also be friends, family, community, meaningful work, fellowship, laughter, and fun. As a fourth generation Californian, I have learned that, to quote LA author Christopher Paolini, “The trick is to find happiness in the brief gaps between disasters.”  There is always so much more to learn about emergency preparedness... I WON'T POST FOR A FEW WEEKS The days ahead are full of family gatherings, a nephew's wedding, and time with old friends I rarely see. I'll be back in mid-July! FINDING HOPE "Find happiness in the brief gaps between disasters” is part of my series of blog posts exploring ways people help each other find hope in this worrying world. Know someone you think should be featured? Tell me more in the comments section below. See all the posts in this series. DON'T MISS OUT! If you haven't already, take a moment to subscribe so I can let you know when I publish my weekly posts. Just send me an email and I'll take it from there. [email protected] SUBSCRIBED BUT NOT GETTING POST ANNOUNCEMENTS? Check your spam folder. Internet security is in a frenzy these days. If you still can't find it, please let me know. FOR FURTHER READING My bestselling travel memoirs & guides Cozy Places to Eat in Seville My new book: My San Francisco If you haven't read My San Francisco yet, you can order it HERE. You can purchase the paperback edition, in person or online, at Rebound Bookstore in San Rafael, CA Already read this book? I invite you to leave a review HERE. GOING SOMEWHERE? Enter any destination or topic, such as packing light or road food, in the search box below. If I've written about it, you'll find it.  A rookie guide dog wonders when he's getting that ice cream everyone keeps talking about. Rich has always had a firm grasp on life’s essentials. When I mentioned the Puppy Ice Cream Social, he said, “You had me at ice cream.” For me, the irresistible draw was the chance to play with puppies. In these challenging times, there seems to be greater truth than ever to Charles de Gaulle’s famous line, “The more I get to know men, the more I find myself loving dogs.” Humans and dogs have hung out together for 35,000 years, and it’s worked out pretty well for both of us. We give them food, lodging, medical care, treats, toys, and massages, and they pretend to think we are gods. Fair exchange! Ann Landers used to warn, “Don’t accept your dog’s admiration as conclusive evidence that you are wonderful.” Naturally, humans never took her words seriously. Of course, worship is only one of a dog’s responsibilities.  Back in the day, they chased off wolves and disposed of our food scraps. Since then they've branched out into herding sheep, finding truffles, and rescuing little Timmy whenever he falls into the river on an episode of Lassie. In the 13th century St. Francis of Assisi remarked he’d seen “a blind man who in a path was led by a little she-dog.” The Soviets sent them into space. Canines have always had a gift for making the most of new career opportunities. “Why is someone throwing an ice cream social for dogs?” Rich asked. “I thought dogs weren’t supposed to eat ice cream.” True; all dogs, once they are weaned, become lactose intolerant to one degree or another. Our last dog didn't care; she was a total chow hound who loved to steal bites of ice cream. I guess that’s what we got for calling her Eskimo Pie. (For short she was Pie, Pi, or 3.14159.) She never seemed to suffer any ill effects, unless you count her expanding girth. She was not a slender reed. “They give the puppies that fake ice cream made for dogs,” I said. “As for the occasion, it's a graduation party for the latest class of guide dogs for the blind.” As it happens, our county is home to America’s biggest training center for what used to be called “seeing-eye dogs.” Guide Dogs for the Blind (GDB) began in 1942 and was soon helping servicemen who had sacrificed their eyesight on WW II battlefields.  (Left) GDB's first graduating class: humans Lemoyne Cox and Marjorie Cosgrove, dogs Lady and Vicki. (Right) Sgt. Leonard Foulk, age 26, blinded by sniper fire at Battle of Attu, with Blondie. In nearby San Rafael, I often see puppies in training harnesses, learning to navigate crosswalks and to resist the tempting French fries that fall to the ground in sidewalk cafes. Over the past 83 years, 16,000 dog-human teams have graduated from GDB; about 2000 are active right now. When I heard the latest class was celebrating with a party and inviting the community, I was all in. It was a surprisingly sedate affair. When I think of puppies, I think of boisterous play; I have dozens of stories about young Pie stealing hamburgers at picnics, chasing squirrels and raccoons, and jumping through hula hoops to entertain kids. But these young dogs were chosen for their responsible personalities, and a year of training had taught them to pay respectful attention to their human handlers. Frankly, I was in awe and asked one of the trainers how she managed this miracle.  She raises puppies, fosters dogs needing temporary respite, and works for a company that supplies medical alert canines. Ironically, her name is Kat. “I started puppy raising in my sophomore year of high school,” Kat told me. “A friend of mine mentioned to me that her mom puppy-raised. An industry like service animals, where you’re helping people but also hanging out with cool dogs all day, was perfect for me. It was magical to go through high school with a dog.” With GDB’s detailed guidelines, curriculum, and active support, Kat has trained six puppies so far. She also fosters dogs who need a temporary home, for instance while recovering from surgery or a stressful kennel visit. Aside from those volunteer jobs, she holds a paying gig as an administrator in a company that provides diabetic alert dogs, which raise the alarm when their human’s blood sugar begins to get out of whack. “Between my last two dogs, had a little bit of a break, and it was weird,” Kat recalled. “I'd go to the grocery store and I'd be like, 'I'm missing something.' Because I'm used to having a leash in my hand and a dog with the vest on, and it felt so weird; it felt like going naked.” I asked if it was hard to let go of a puppy after the training year. “It’s such a beautiful journey. Every graduation that I have a dog go through, I cry. The whole time. And it's not because I'm missing my dog. It's because this is what the magic in the world is.”  "We’ve had lots of adventures," says Kim. "Before Jango I could barely step outside the front door alone and now we’re crossing oceans. Planes and ferries are no problem to us." Kim and Jango found each other through a guide dog program in Ireland. Puppies and humans are carefully paired on the basis of personality and temperament, taking into account the person's lifestyle, activity level, family, other pets, and living arrangements. Most guide dogs work for six to eight years, and while some continue to live with their handlers during retirement, others become beautifully trained pets in a new family. GDB is entirely funded through private donations and a small online shop. This being Pride Month, LGBTQ+ merchandise is front and center.  One of the t-shirts sold on the GDB website. Looking at the “Guide with Pride” t-shirt, I began to wonder what it might be suggesting about the guide dogs' original romantic inclinations, before they were spayed or neutered. Are there gay dogs? A glance at the Wikipedia page Homosexual behavior in animals revealed that same-sex sexual behavior is astonishingly widespread and has been documented among 1500 different species. Yes, including dogs and cats. Who knew? Actually, scientists have known about such goings-on forever — or at least for the last 2300 years, since Aristotle first recorded lively same-sex hanky panky among pigeons, partridges, and quails.  A quarter of all black swan pairings are same sex. Sometimes a pair of males will form a threesome with a female to get eggs so they can raise family. In 1911 a British Antarctic explorer documented homosexual behavior among penguins, but his report was considered too shocking for public release and was suppressed. Secret copies were circulated among scientists, written in a sort of code mixing English text and Greek letters to make it inaccessible to most readers. The report was finally published openly in 2012. In these more permissive times, Wikipedia isn't shy about sharing racy photos of same-sex frolicking by creatures ranging from lions to fruit flies. The steamy video of a pair of male Bonin flying fox bats cavorting on a tree branch gives new meaning to the the term party animals.  A Bonin flying fox bat, shown here posing for his Tinder photo I don’t pretend to understand all the whys and wherefores of love — human, animal, or otherwise. But I do know love makes the world more beautiful, the hard times more bearable, and the best of times so joyful I wish I had a tail to wag. “Our dogs help us find independence, confidence and self-worth,” said Emily, a musician and writer who lives in Florida with her guide dog, York. “They teach us that our lives have value. They help us reclaim our dignity and self-determination… And his love overwhelms me. It is as powerful as a symphony, as beautiful as a night full of stars. It’s a love I can never hope to measure or comprehend. But it’s a love I will spend my whole life trying to return.”  I'm sure this puppy didn't love me just because I had ice cream in my hand. I'M FEATURED IN SHAWN FETTIG'S SECOND PODCAST Leaving America E2: The Easy Escapes in Europe Deep Dive with Shawn This one covers the nuts and bolts of making your move: visas, rents, living expenses, and more. Shawn points out it doesn't require exceptional wealth or connections — just planning, patience, and paperwork. deepdivepodcast.buzzsprout.com (Don't have time for the whole podcast? My quote is about 23 minutes in. Enjoy!) FINDING HOPE The Puppy Ice Cream Social is part of a series of blog posts exploring ways people help each other find hope in this worrying world. Know someone you think should be featured? Tell me more in the comments section below. See all the posts in this series. DON'T MISS OUT! If you haven't already, take a moment to subscribe so I can let you know when I publish my weekly posts. Just send me an email and I'll take it from there. [email protected] SUBSCRIBED BUT NOT GETTING POST ANNOUNCEMENTS? Check your spam folder. Internet security is in a frenzy these days. If you still can't find it, please let me know. FOR FURTHER READING My bestselling travel memoirs & guides Cozy Places to Eat in Seville My new book: My San Francisco If you haven't read My San Francisco yet, you can order it HERE. You can purchase the paperback edition, in person or online, at Rebound Bookstore in San Rafael, CA Already read this book? I invite you to leave a review HERE. GOING SOMEWHERE? Enter any destination or topic, such as packing light or road food, in the search box below. If I've written about it, you'll find it.  Remember when you were little and would do anything to avoid eating vegetables? I vividly recall being eight years old and watching in awe as a toddler of my acquaintance had the bright idea of getting rid of unwanted mashed potatoes by spooning them into their diaper. (Not surprisingly, this ploy did not escape adult notice for long.) Kids haven't lost any of that rebel spirit, as you can see from the excuses I recently found on Reddit. “This tastes … unlucky to me.” “Can we donate this meal to charity?” “These blueberries tickle my brain.” “This tastes like Delaware.” To which another reader commented, “At least it didn’t taste like New Jersey.” “This sends my mouth into outer space. (That’s bad.)” Huh? I looked that one up, and discovered that contrary to all probability, astronomers actually have figured out what outer space tastes like: raspberries.  Raspberries. Photo: NASA That’s right, I said space tastes like raspberries. Raspberries get their flavor from a chemical called ethyl formate, which has been found in large quantities in a giant dust ball at the center of the Milky Way. The truly astonishing thing is that back here on Earth, the manufacturers of Milky Way bars haven’t capitalized on that fun fact by making raspberry-flavored candy. Maybe they think it sounds too healthy to attract consumers. Getting anyone to eat wholesome food is an uphill battle these days. Studies show that only 12% of Americans eat the recommended amounts of fruits and vegetables. Shockingly, 25% say they’ve never eaten a vegetable in their lives. This may explain why, in a survey, only about a third of US adults could correctly identify everyday fruits and veggies. Wondering how you’d do in the survey? Here’s the first question. Take your time.  If you rushed to judgement with cabbage, I’m sorry to inform you the answer is: baby iceberg lettuce. If you thought it was cauliflower or artichoke, we need to talk. Is society ready to throw fresh produce on the compost heap of history? That question is causing concern among physicians, nutritionists, and anyone who cares about the future of the human race. If you are what you eat, it’s worrying that more folks are familiar with the menu at McDonald’s than with the vegetable aisle at the supermarket. To give kids a heads-up that nature does not shrink-wrap broccoli or deliver carrots trimmed to uniform size in a plastic bag, roughly 20% of US grammar and high schools maintain a food garden. Does watching lunch grow change kids’ perspectives? To find out, this week I visited the Mill Valley Children’s Garden, a 22,000 square-foot garden that’s been part of the curriculum at Edna Maguire Elementary School for 35 years.  And there are chickens! Here volunteer Anita introduces me to a Buff Orpington called Peaches. David, the garden manager, took me around and introduced me to his favorites: splendid artichokes, robust cabbages, leafy greens rejoicing in the unusual name of speckled trout lettuce, the kid-sized dwarf fruit trees in the food forest, the greenhouse seedlings just getting their start. “It’s all organic,” he said, automatically picking up a hose and dousing his darlings with a fine mist. “We use no pesticides at all. If insects take a bite, we just trim the leaf off.”  David waters plants in the greenhouse of the Mill Valley Children's Garden. He explained that each of the grammar school’s nearly 400 children spends time in the garden on a regular basis, learning about planting and patience and the joy of seeing your seedlings grow up and produce mouthwatering tomatoes. Intertwined with those experiences are lessons in science, art, math, writing, and history. “For example, in the third grade we talk a lot about local indigenous cultures in the county,” explained volunteer Anita, president of the Friends of Mill Valley Children’s Garden. “So our Garden Educator will bring in subjects like what would the Miwoks have eaten here. Talking about climate change, it’s about how much water you need to get yourself a beet versus a pound of beef.” The most lasting lessons these young gardeners learn are about themselves. “There are kids who find this is where they shine, this is where they come alive,” said Anita. “They can engage and be calm, be present. They learn independence and confidence. There’s a lot of pride when they show their parents what they’ve grown.” The kids eat plenty of the produce, either on the spot or from harvest boxes sold to their parents as a fundraiser to support the garden. After that, David explained, “We either give it to the teachers or donate to a community kitchen, usually Community Action Marin, where they cook meals for low-income school children.” For me, that was the most feel-good moment of the whole conversation. Because if anyone should be receiving a share of the garden’s bounty, it’s neighbors in need. Marin is a prosperous county, yet one in five residents — 48,000 people, including 11,753 kids — are worrying right now about where their next meal is coming from. In America, 50 million people experience hunger; worldwide, 733 million suffer from malnutrition. And I don’t have to explain how funding cutbacks are now making the situation much, much worse. Thirty years ago, worries about food insecurity inspired Alaskan garden columnist Jeff Lowenfels to propose an ingenious solution.  His Plant a Row for the Hungry campaign invited home gardeners to expand their production just a bit, creating extras that could go to those who were struggling. The Garden Writers of America picked up on the idea, inspiring folks across the country to pitch in and help out. “Since then, more than 20 million pounds of produce, providing more than 80 million meals, have been donated through the campaign by home gardeners,” wrote the AP’s Jessica Damaino.“‘All of this has been achieved without government subsidy or bureaucratic red tape — just people helping people,’ according to organizers on the campaign’s website. And there’s no big advertising campaign, either — just garden columnists and their readers spreading the word.” And now I’m spreading the word to you. If you have a backyard garden, consider planting an extra row of whatever crops you’ve got going, then find a local food bank, a community fridge, or another collection point that will distribute the fruits of your labors to neighbors who are going without.  WW II Victory Garden poster. Photo: Etsy We’ve done this successfully in the past. Victory Gardens were introduced in WW I, and by 1944 there were 20 million of them in backyards, community plots, and pots on balconies and windowsills. That year we, the people produced 10 billion pounds of food — 40% of our nation’s vegetable supply. Rich’s parents were part of that effort. They had a Victory Garden when Rich was born (on June 6, 1944 — yes, D-Day was his B-Day!), and they kept it up for five years after the war. As a toddler, Rich learned to loathe the beets and rhubarb growing in abundance behind his house. But he developed a lifelong love of digging in dirt; he agrees with the Chinese saying, “Those who plant a garden plant happiness.” And when we have the good fortune to share that happiness with our neighbors, we are twice blessed. RESOURCES "Name That Produce" Quiz How to Start a Victory Garden (Farmer's Almanac) Find a Local Food Bank What's a Community Fridge?  HOT NEWS! I'M FEATURED IN SHAWN FETTIG'S NEW PODCAST Leaving America E1: Should You Stay or Should You Go? Deep Dive with Shawn What if you could escape the endless news cycle, afford healthcare without a second mortgage, and actually use your vacation days without guilt? Welcome to "Leaving America," the limited series where we're diving into why a record 40% of Americans... deepdivepodcast.buzzsprout.com (Don't have time for the whole podcast? My quote is the very first one; it happens around 3 minutes in. Enjoy!) FINDING HOPE The Children's Victory Garden is part of a series of blog posts exploring ways people help each other find hope in this worrying world. Know someone you think should be featured? Tell me more in the comments section below. See all the posts in this series. DON'T MISS OUT! If you haven't already, take a moment to subscribe so I can let you know when I publish my weekly posts. Just send me an email and I'll take it from there. [email protected] SUBSCRIBED BUT NOT GETTING POST ANNOUNCEMENTS? Check your spam folder. Internet security is in a frenzy these days. If you still can't find it, please let me know. FOR FURTHER READING My bestselling travel memoirs & guides Cozy Places to Eat in Seville My new book: My San Francisco If you haven't read My San Francisco yet, you can order it HERE. You can purchase the paperback edition, in person or online, at Rebound Bookstore in San Rafael, CA Already read this book? I invite you to leave a review HERE. GOING SOMEWHERE? Enter any destination or topic, such as packing light or road food, in the search box below. If I've written about it, you'll find it. |
This blog is a promotion-free zone.
As my regular readers know, I never get free or discounted goods or services for mentioning anything on this blog (or anywhere else). I only write about things I find interesting and/or useful. 
I'm an American travel writer dividing my time between California and Seville, Spain. I travel the world seeking intriguing people, quirky places, and outrageously delicious food so I can have the fun of writing about them here.
Don't miss out! SIGN UP HERE to be notified when I publish new posts. Planning a trip? Use the search box below to find out about other places I've written about. And check out my other bestselling travel books
Winner of the Firebird Book Award for Travel
BLOG ARCHIVES
November 2025
CATEGORIES
All
|