The only “chocolate” was a platter of brownies next to the churros and fruit on the dessert table. There was no gimmickry of a spa- or scrapbook- or coffee-shop day for the lil’ ladies, no pastel-and-lace floral table coverings, no synth-y “special music” for the occasion, no excruciating ice-breaker games, and no motivational speaker whose…

I’ve heard it from a number of my age peers. And the number of classic rock radio stations in the U.S. bears it out. Boomers love the music of their youth. Of course, there’s nothing new about nostalgia. (Pun intended.) I remember my parents grooving on 1950’s and pre-Beatles 1960’s pop music, and my grandma enjoying…

For some reason, my annual “Favorite Things” lists (2010 and 2011) get far less press than those of a certain former daytime talk show personality whose first name rhymes with Bophrah. I don’t understand it. And though, as Art Buchwald (whose first name rhymes with both tart and fart) once noted, the best things in…

Bill and I were supposed to be in Jerusalem this week for a Caspari board meeting, but finances kept us here in the U.S. (He Skyped in to the meeting instead.) The headlines coming out of that region are stunning and sobering. The opining unending. The only thing I can do is pray. The words…

Weeks before our October 7, 1979 wedding, Bill and I headed with our wedding photographer to the site of our first official date about a year or so earlier. Most photographers weren’t doing engagement pictures beyond a simple portrait of the couple, but the friend who shot our wedding suggested we do a few casual…