Speaking of being in the zone, “Have you considered marijuana?” floated past me on the conversational breeze.

It was my cardiologist speaking. Was I in the Twilight Zone? No, just him suggesting pot might be the perfect drug. For me. It would deal with a variety of issues. He wasn’t suggesting “medical marijuana” because though theoretically we have it, actually we don’t. Yet. Maybe someday.


“Uh, yes,” I said. “The downside, other than the price tag, is coughing. Coughing hurts.”

“Take in more air when you inhale,” he said. “You’ll cough less.”


I grew up in a world where getting busted for having a couple of joints in your pocket could land you in jail for a very long time. A world in which marijuana was the gateway drug to a life of dissipation and degradation. Which would end with you face down in a gutter in some part of town where even the cops won’t go.

Now I live in a world where ones doctors recommend smoking pot.

My mother was born in 1910 and passed in 1982. Growing up, horse-drawn carts were far more common than automobiles. She was a child during World War I, a married woman and a mother in World War II. She survived — somehow — the Great Depression and marched with friends and family in a spontaneous parade of celebration when the New Deal passed. Even though the Depression didn’t really end until the war came and brought employment to everyone who wasn’t fighting.


By the time she passed, there was cable television and home computers, two cars (at least) in every driveway. One day (I was a kid) I shouted “Oh look, a horse and cart!”

She looked bemused. “When I was your age,” she said, “We used to shout “Look, a motor car!”

And today, my doctor suggested I smoke pot. What a world, eh?

In Whose Zone?



This week, it’s Boston. You’d think being on the road would be the best time for posting these pictures, but it usually means I don’t have time to process most of them.

I did get a few put together for you. Hope you enjoy them. Beacon Hill and Back Bay, mostly, and a hint of Fenway.



Cee’s challenge this week is for faces. Being at my friend’s house and her being uncharacteristically willing to let me take her picture, voilà! Taken with my new 60mm Olympus macro/portrait lens using the camera’s art effects and of course, Photoshop.

Cherrie BW pensive portrait

Cherrie bw portrait hadley

Hop on over to Cee’s Photography site for more great pictures.


It was a beautiful day and the first time the calves had been let our of their cribs into the corral. Everyone was busy on the farm. Spring through autumn, there’s plenty of work for everyone.

72-BillyGoatGruff-1I petted the calves who were friendly, if a bit skittish, meeting strangers. I could feel the bumps on their head where their horns were beginning to come in. A warm, bright spring day on the farm. A good day.



What is the most important thing that you ever learned? (I bet it’s not something you learned in school).

That life just happens. Both good and bad. Controlling life, to which we all aspire and in which we fervently believe until we learn otherwise, is a waste of time. You aim yourself in the general direction in which you want to go. After that? You take your cue from what happens along the trail. The people you meet, the opportunities you get.

Taken by the typical friendly passing stranger who, sadly, had no clue about how cameras work. Guess where we are? Hint: The picture was taken yesterday and they are not having a good season.

Taken by the typical friendly passing stranger who, sadly, had no clue about how cameras work. Guess where we are? Hint: The picture was taken yesterday and they are not having a good season.

As they say (with good reason): “Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans.”

What feeds your enthusiasm for life?

Writing. Photography. Creating things. Reading. If I feed my mind, I feed everything.


I don’t know what I would do if I was no longer able to do anything creative.

What’s your most memorable (good or bad) airplane commercial or private flight?

We were coming back from Ft. Lauderdale after a 2-week Caribbean cruise. A lot of unexpected and interesting stuff had happened on that cruise, but we were not prepared for the flight home. Actually, the first leg of the journey, from Florida to Atlanta, was perfectly normal and on time. The connecting flight to Boston was waiting on the runway, our luggage got transferred. So far, so good.

Having boarded, strapped in, we sat on that runway in the plane. No air conditioning, not an offer of water or coffee or a soft drink for three hours. No one explained why. One of the passengers was a diabetic and went into a coma. They removed her from the plane on a stretcher.


Finally, we actually took off. Thunder storms forced the plane to make an emergency landing in Philadelphia, where we sat for another couple of hours, waiting for the weather to clear. And for a new pilot. Why we needed a new pilot? Your guess is as good as mine.

We got back to Boston at 3 in the morning. Our original arrival had been 6 pm. Garry was scheduled to be at Channel 7 the following morning at five. He was exhausted. They told him “tough luck, you should have planned better.” We went home. Garry took a shower, got dressed, and went to work. So much for (a) Delta Airlines and (b) the glamorous life of a television reporter.

If you were a great explorer, what would you explore

I’ve never thought about exploring. I’d love to see Paris, the Great Wall of China, Japan, India, and Kenya. Among other places.


That’s travel, not exploration. Exploration makes me think of jungles, insects, snakes, and yellow fever. How about a nice cruise to Tahiti? I’m up for that.