1980. In spring I broke up with my first serious love, and right after, met the man who would become my first husband. We got engaged on Thanksgiving, and conceived our son on Xmas day. Music was still pretty good in 1980, even with disco. .

Inherited the family homestead, and moved from a progressive city to where it’s fleeing rednecks planned to make their final stand. The rural county went from Democratic ‘everything,’ to Republican ever since... Sick and sad to witness. Fell in love with rural living, though, dreading ‘visits home,’ to the working class corner of Portland, OR.

My mother loved/ loves the damn city, though. Having grown up the only (obvious) Atheist in a rural midwestern town, she’d remind us often why she fled - “Anonymity,” she’d say! She’s still there, as politically aware as ever … don’t know what she saw in my dad

The 80’s for me were digging in - and dropping out. As friends were in the heat of competition, it seemed I had everything I wanted or needed. While they were dressing up, I was dressing down. “You’d have made a fine Hippy” was a compliment I’d received from one.. But getting back to the land in the GoGo Eighties wasn’t all that ‘cool’ or respectable. ...and that damned Reagan … the beginning of the end..

Bad news travels fast. But good news rarely makes the headlines. We do live in amazing times and we are so lucky in so many ways. We should always remember that.

Was living in LA. Going out seeing all the cool bands, and not caring about a whole lot