Today the 30-something driver of the #18 Oakland-to-Richmond bus said affectionately, “Goodbye, Mom” when I disembarked. Yesterday the checkout clerk at Andronico’s — who had ten years on me, easy — was talking about some artifact from the late forties/early fifties, which happens to be before I was born. “Ahhh, the good old days, huh?” he sighed, nodding at me meaningfully, as though we shared a memory. What do people see when they look at […]
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