We lost our little Jimmy.

Our little cockatiel.
She was the best little bird anybody could have ever had a deep and abiding friendship with.
Thirteen-and-a-half years with this little baby. She was our “Tiny Chicken.” We spoiled her like no bird has ever been spoiled.

I watch birds fly and I wonder what that would be like. I see bees working together to get pollen and I wonder what that would be like. (By the way, I feel bad when I trap a fly in my car, because, you know, he’s never gonna find his way home.) I feel like I’d like to be a wolf or a bear. And, I also look at other groups of people, and I wonder what that would be like. That wondering about what it would be like to be them, often gives way to a jealousy about not being them. 

I do a lot of stuff. I write for this magazine. I teach improv, film, documentary and theater to kids. I teach test prep to teens. I teach communication and public speaking courses to college freshmen. But when it comes to the subject of me, the thing that seems to get most people’s attention, is my oldest stream of income. I drive a trolley and give tours. I have for over 20 years.