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Category: Columns

Sex, politics, fashion and everything else a gen-X everygal loves to dish about.
Published bi-weekly, 2 or 3 times a month

Beer Meets Brains at Quiz Night

“Baby Got Back” blares. The Guinness tap flows. And 50-some bar patrons flex their gray matter to deduce the unit of measurement named after an Italian scientist who invented the electrical battery and discovered methane.

Fourteen small teams huddle in tufted booths, at the polished bar, and around the Pac-Man table in back, nervously crunching on Spicy Lime & Chile™ potato chips and a white-chocolate-drizzled popcorn called Unicorn Crunch. It’s Pub Quiz Night at Old Kings Road, the jackpot is $250, and these beer-swilling brainiacs are not effing around.

Giddy for ‘Your Loss’

Hometown Girl Kit Steinkellner Creates, Writes New Facebook Watch Series

You wake up in the middle of the night to pounding rain and realize you’re alone in bed. Your husband never came home — and now he’s not answering his phone. Panicked, you jump in your car and plow into the storm, scouring the slippery streets for his car. What if you don’t find him? you wonder. What if he’s …?

This scenario, or one like it, happened to Class of 2004 Dos Pueblos High School grad Kit Steinkellner a few years back. But it had an exceptionally happy ending: Not only was her spouse okay, but Kit turned the idea into a new web TV series called Sorry for Your Loss.

Premiering on Facebook Watch in September, the show stars Elizabeth Olsen as a young woman struggling to recover from the sudden death of her husband. It has a 94 percent rating on Rotten Tomatoes, the first episode had 2.8 million views in the first week — and it was all inspired by that one horrific night of worry.

Congresswoman Reflects on Struggles in New Book

Lois Capps Reveals Work Was Never as Easy as She Made It Look

During the two decades she represented California’s Central Coast, Congressmember Lois Capps was voted the Nicest Member of the House of Representatives four times by Washingtonian magazine.

Through three presidents, an impeachment, 9/11, the second Iraq War, and democratic majorities and minorities, she was known for her compassion, grace, and efforts to reach across the aisle.

But her new memoir, Keeping Faith in Congress, reveals the work was never as easy for her as she made it look.

Camping Sucks; There, I Said It

Done Apologizing for Detesting the Great Outdoors

I’m sitting 5,400 feet high in the Sierra Nevada mountains at the edge of a glassy lake that’s rimmed with fluffy pines pointing emphatically at the sky. I’m keenly aware that I’m supposed to feel blissish and perspectivey. But my legs brandish 13 bug bites of various dimensions and shades, there is dirt in my nostrils, and I’m dreading another torturous night on a foam pad punctuated by the random swish-swish of my son flopping around in his nylon sleeping bag.

I loathe camping, and I’m sorry about that. I really am. I’m comfy admitting that I hate other things I’m supposed to like: Green drinks. Michael Moore. Black Mirror. When you say you detest camping, though, people look at you like you’re broken, like you’re missing a crucial piece (the way your tent always is).

But I’m tired of being ashamed of my repugnance for roughing it. For the soggy whole-world-wetness of mornings in a tent. For the swarm of spastic mosquitoes around a fluorescent light in a camp shower at night. For the inevitable stench of raw sewage seeping from a septic tank when you were promised lungs full of alpine oxygen.

A Cart … Apart

Debate over Returning Shopping Carts Mirrors Political Divide

I love a good story, well told. A powerful narrative can puncture our cynical veneers and inspire us to imagine, to empathize, even to act.

But in these polarized political times, I’m noticing how the stories we tell ourselves ​— ​or were told once upon a time and never bothered to fact-check ​— ​can have a profound impact on the way we carry ourselves through the world. And the assumptions we make about others.

You see it in the current immigration debate, as otherwise reasonable Americans shriek at one another, “They’re here to take our jobs!” “No, they’re criminals in the drug- and sex-trade!” “Nonsense, they’re asylum seekers escaping treacherous lands!” Surely the folks knocking at our borders include all of these archetypes and more ​— ​but our inner narratives, once written, resist editing. So the shrieking persists.

I saw this Story Scenario play out in another fascinating fracas recently. I happened upon a friend in the always-perilous Trader Joe’s parking lot. Having loaded groceries into her car and loath to lug her shopping cart all the way back to the store, she asked my opinion on the Age-Old Grocery Store Debate: Must we always return the cart? Like … every single time??

Oh, Say, Can You C-Word?

Notes on a feckless country

The word couldn’t have gotten more buzz if Trump’s stubby thumbs had tweeted it from his golden toilet.

The once-verboten, inarguably vulgar C-word has been on everyone’s whispered lips after funny gal/political commentator Samantha Bee hurled it at Ivanka Trump. The First Daughter earned the ire for tweeting a tender and utterly tone-deaf photo of herself snuggling her son during a week when migrant children were being torn from their parents at U.S. borders per her dad’s new “zero tolerance” immigrant policy.

Predictable reactions followed: 45 feigned offense, though we’ve all heard him refer with equal crudeness to the same body part and saw him welcome Ted Nugent to the White House after that courtly gentleman used the same epithet on Hillary Clinton. Bee apologized. A couple of companies pulled their ads from Bee’s aptly named Full Frontal show. And even liberal women who applauded her message mumbled to one another that the jab was uncouth.

But as the entire incident erupted at the intersection of my three favorite things ​— ​debating over language, insulting a Trump, and alluding to vaginas ​— ​I rather enjoyed it.

Secrets of a Very Catholic Daughter

‘Hiding Out’ Author Talks Drugs, Deception, and Double Lives

He used to leap around naked in front of thousands of people weekly while touring the nation in Hair, a rock musical about sex, drugs, and draft-dodging. On my first day of 9th grade at a snooty prep school, my 70-year-old history teacher proclaimed to the class that my father had sat naked on her lap during a matinee in Baltimore. I never quite recovered.

But then I met Tina Alexis Allen and discovered I had it easy. Really easy.

One Space. Period.

Foes of Formatting Want Us to Take Double-Spaced Step Backward

For months on end, I’ve been watching in shock as seemingly impossible things keep happening: The most innovative nation on the globe elected an actual imbecile. Hooded Klansmen marched proudly in our streets. Regulations aimed at slowing our environmental doom were casually reversed.

Now researchers are making a scientific case for using two spaces between sentences in typed communication, instead of one. Two profligate, puffy spaces. Instead of just the sensible single space.

And this, my friends, is where my head explodes. This is where I say, By god, you animals, no more. No more will I stand idly by and watch barbarous, maniac-manned bulldozers ram at the pillars of our human progress. Feh, ye foes of formatting! We have come too far from the clomping Smith Corona Sterling and the humming, ham-fisted IBM Selectric dumping unsightly utilitarian gaps in the midst of our otherwise pretty paragraphs, to ever — nay, ever! — go back.

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