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Why Bother to Recant? I grew up watching the Ed Sullivan show on Sunday nights in the living room with my family. The June Taylor Dancers amazed me and when the Beatles made their debut, my dad commented on the length of their long hair.   But something we never watched was sports. I didn’t know…

Why bother raising the dead? In my junior year of high school I landed a job as a nurse’s aide in a nursing home. It felt like my first real job. I had a uniform, regular hours, and a weekly paycheck.   Old people did not scare me. Most of them were friendly and more than…

    Why Bother Waiting? The summer I graduated from high school, 1976, I visited my sister Beth and her husband, Rolf, who lived in Salt Lake City. Rolf, who owned more than one 35mm camera plus every accessory, introduced me to looking at life through the viewfinder of a camera. Narrowing my vision down…

Why Bother Relating With the In-Laws? The first time I met Les and Berniece, my future in-laws, Luke, whom I’d eventually marry, hadn’t yet proposed to me. Like so many others of that era, the 1970s, we simply cohabitated.  We’d driven my Volkswagen bug from Idaho to Colorado, camping along the way and  bathed in…