Seattle Comic Camera: From Clowns, Do We Get More than Laughs --- Maybe Much More?

Barbara and I are in beautiful Edmonds, just north of Seattle, visiting our daughter Misha, her husband Ed, and grandkids Mia, Bella, Max, and 9-month-old Talula. The clowning around has been going on practically nonstop -- much of it at my expense.

We had barely arrived when my granddaughter Mia jumps on the couch beside me.  Giggling, she pulls up a photo of me on her cell phone. Using a photo app, she puts a gold crown on my head, gives me outsized shades, and sticks a huge cigar in my mouth. 

She does this to me. Me, her own grandfather.  Where's the respect?

Mia also pokes  fun at  her 9-month old baby sister Talula, whose Christening  we had come to Seattle for. But, to be fair to Mia, little Talula herself is already showing signs of not taking life seriously.  

Brace yourself.  Talula, declining to be a cute baby for the camera, makes a mischievous, self-mocking face. Able only to goo-goo, she joshes with her tongue.

But Mia is not about to take this from her jokester baby sister. Tapping her cell phone, she turns Talula  into, well, we'll let the result, right, speak for itself.

Starting off life this way, clowning back and forth, how is poor little Talula ever going to grow up and take life seriously?

 
Honestly, little Talula has her work cut out for her. Above are her role-models dad and older sibs.  Mia is left, Bella right, and Max.  They exude  joie de vie.

Mia and Max, left, talk through their homemade communication system. Max is in a new mode of transportation that he built. It's a car, sort of. He's working on how to make it take him places. 


Of course, their dad and I take seriously our responsibility as role models, as in this photo. 

And, here I am above, the proud grandpa with Mia and Bella showing off  the hairdos inspired by their dad and grandpa. Not that I am always parading around in front of them. Sometimes I go for some quiet alone time in the playroom.

Naturally, as royalty -- I am George Francis Pollock the Third -- I wear my gold crown.  When Mia and Bella come into the playroom, always knocking first,  they come in bowing and scraping before "your royal  highness."  


Max, who has a stubborn side, has so far refused to bow to royalty. But, sooner or later, he will.  And so will Talula.  But I understand that, for her, learning to walk and talk must be priorities. A royal must be sensitive to the needs of his subjects.

Of course, this is all for fun and laughs. But what we get out of it, both the kids and us older adults, may be more than we know.  It so happens that, a few days after we arrived, people of the Northwest gave us a lesson in the importance and power of clowning around.

On July 22, Chris Wedes, better known J.P. Patches died at age 84 of multiple myeloma, a form of blood cancer. He was a clown beloved by two Northwest generations who grew up watching him on TV.  From 1958 to 1981, he was the star of the locally-produced J.P. Patches Show, on Seattle's KIRO Channel 7.


 


The show was live, unrehearsed, pure improv.  For all those years, the clown made it up as he went along. In later years, even while coping with terminal disease, he performed at many local events. Always, always, he got laughs. And when the beloved clown died,  tears of mourning poured out for him.


As a comic legend of the Northwest, J.P. Patches reached into countless area hearts.  In a small way, I discovered this one day when I took Mia and Bella to the local playground. On the edge of where the kids play on the swings and climb iron bars, we found a little bouquet of flowers.


"Look at those flowers," I said.  "Somebody must have forgotten them."

But when we looked at them, we got a surprise.  They were left there on purpose, beside a little engraved metal remembrance -- of J.P. Patches, who lived in Edmonds. 

Mia and Bella are too young to know J.P. Patches. I filled them in.  "He was a clown. He made people laugh. A lot of grown-ups watched him on TV when they were kids. He just died and these people are very sad. One of them left these flowers for him."


Now Mia and Bella were sad.  "Let's honor J.P. Patches with a photo," I said.  Below is the photo of Mia and Bella beside the flowers and engraved memorial to the local comic.

Because life is hard work and packed with responsibilities, maybe J.P. Patches gave human beings a much needed break from it all. Maybe  J.P. Patches' craziness was just what the doctor should have ordered for many stressed-out people, but never did.


Ed has an insanely demanding job. If he doesn't perform, he doesn't get his incentive pay. He works long, long hours but still pitches in with child care to a remarkable extent.  With Misha, he conducts regular sensitive and caring family sessions discussing good and bad behavior and expectations.

But Ed is also often just like J.P. Patches, playing with his kids and making them laugh. For him, regular clowning around with the kids is a welcome, stress-relieving break. For the kids, whose pressures at school and making sense of the world are more intense than many parents realize, it's just plain fun playing around with dad.


Misha generally leaves the comedy to Ed, but always enjoys the show.  Whether she admits it or not, the comic relief undoubtedly helps her do the impossible day in and day out.  Besides taking primary responsibility for the care of four kids and all that entails, she runs her own interior design business, Misha Designs. She is a licensed real estate agent. She's a photographer. She's an artist.

Here she is actually making the gown that Talula was christened in.  You'll never guess where she got the fabric. Give up?  It was from the wedding dress her mom wore when she was married 42 years ago!  

At the other extreme, Misha will grab a shovel and do heavy landscaping work.  The first week we were there, she and Ed worked together for hours in the backyard getting it ready for Talula's Christening  party.  The two of them dug, shoveled, hauled rocks.  They ain't too proud for slave labor.

The last time we were out, in April, the back yard was overgrown and largely unusable.  We returned this week to a backyard that was a beautiful,  beckoning work of art.  Below  is a photo of the setting Misha  created with Christening guests enjoying it.  

The empty seat at the left front is where I was sitting.  I had to get a photo of this joyful scene. As always with Misha and Ed, the food was fabulous -- fritatta, ham, quiche, french toast, fresh fruit and more. In addition to everything else, Ed is a great cook.


 
Let me now show a few photos from our time in Edmonds.  I took some of them at a photo shoot at the Edmonds beach conducted by a professional photographer. While the pro worked like crazy trying to get kids to look at the camera and smile -- which is like trying to herd cats -- I lurked in the background looking for natural "money shots." 

Finally, when it comes to pretty women, I'm a guy. I have a roving eye. I saw two dolls on the beach and I couldn't help myself. They were just too gorgeous not to photograph.  OMG!  One is my wife Barbara!  The other is Misha's friend Molly's mom Pat -- who doesn't like her picture taken! I'm dead!

Pat, any chance you could consider this a "money shot?" What do you think?

Dear, listen, I just saw two great looking women. I wasn't going to come on to them, honest.

Oh well, it's been a good life.

So long and keep moving.

NOTE: George Pollock's novel,  State Kid: Hero of Literacy is now available as an E-book on Amazon (Kindle) and Barnes & Noble ( Nook).

Billy Stone was a foster child.

He ran away from abuse.

He went to juvenile prison.

He went up from there.

And he did it his way.

 

Through the power of the written word. 

Amazon E-Books by George Pollock

 "State Kid: Hero of Literacy" is fiction based on his  real-life experiences  growing up in foster homes; "Last Laughs," is the true story of how five foster kids (he and four younger siblings) found their way in life and each other. "Killers: Surprises in a Maximum Security Prison," is the story of his being locked up for 23 hours with killers in a maximum security prison;  "I, Cadaver" is about his postmortem adventures and mischief in the anatomy lab at UMass Medical School. “A Beautiful Story” demonstrates the art and process of creative writing as a 16-year-old boy goes all out to write a story that literally saves his life;  "A Long, Happy, Healthy Life,"  is about how to live the title every day; and "Unlove Story," Writing anonymously as "Elvis," a husband, dumped after 38 years of marriage, lets it all out on love, marriage, life, everything. A guy doing this? It's unheard of.

   For the Nook:

A Beautiful Story
A Long, Happy, Healthy Life
I, Cadaver
Killers
State Kid
Unlove Story

    

Seattle Candid Camera: New Baby, 40th Birthday, Grandkids, Crazy Weather, Work and Play in the Starbucks "Office."

It was summery spring with confused flowers in early blossom as we flew out of Boston. We arrived in Seattle to freezing, winter temperatures.

The weather got even crazier.

One morning in Seattle we woke up to snow, yes SNOW, while our neighbors back in Massachusetts were on their porches sunning themselves!

Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't it supposed to be just the opposite, brutal cold on the East coast and civilized, though rainy, mildness on the West coast?

The weather needs to go for counseling.

A neighbor, Martha, e-mailed us:  "Yes, we're having THE best summer weather in March that I can remember. It reached a high of 82 here, and we had dinner on the deck..."

I e-mailed Martha my thanks for rubbing it in: "I'm so happy for your "best summer weather in March" while we are out here in Seattle freezing our U-NO-WHATS off. We even had a snowstorm. So, go ahead, sunbathe on the porch in your bikini -- but could you please not send us a photo of it?  Appreciate it."

Now that I got that out of my system, let me introduce you to the reason we came to Seattle, our new granddaughter, Talula, just five months old.  Here are the proud grandparents, Barbara and me, showing her off.

Actually, there's another reason we were in Seattle: for Talula's mom's birthday. Daughter Misha was celebrating her 40th -- though she looks at least 15 years younger, as you can see below with Talula.

Here's the whole gang, with the exception of Barbara, at Misha's 40th birthday party. Barbara got drafted to take the group picture.

Just so she won't feel left out, here is a photo of Barbara alone with Talula.

Now a  dose of reality. As you can imagine, with three kids already and a new baby, Misha and husband Ed have their hands full. Ed has a demanding managerial job at L.A. Fitness and works long hours, but still gets up at night to feed the baby.

Misha has her own interior design business, Misha Designs. Plus, while we were there, she studied for and passed the exam for her real estate license. We don't know how she does it all.

So we did our best to help out -- and Misha and Ed were able to get away for a weekend in Las Vegas for a much needed break.

During our two weeks in Seattle, to be honest, Barbara did most of the work. She watched Talula, fed her, changed her. She prepared meals for the other three kids, Mia (almost 10), Bella (8), and Max (almost 5).  She cleaned, washed clothes, and did everything else that needed to be done around the house.

In other words, she was the responsible adult. I was one of the kids. I walked with Mia and Bella to and from school, the three of us goofing the whole time. Most afternoons, I walked with the three to a playground about a mile away where we all just had fun.

There Bella found a little furry friend, shown with her in the photo. She couldn't stop hugging and kissing the sweet little puppy.

One afternoon I walked all three kids to a nearby McDonald's. We had yummy soft serve cones and the kids had a ball climbing and scrambling through the huge tubes of the mammoth play structure.

To play there,  kids are supposed to be no more than 4 feet tall.  I had each stand at the height checker. Only Max was under 4 feet tall. Mia and Bella were both illegal and I told them so. "Let's hope nobody finds out," I said,  "and the cops don't come and throw us out."

"They won't throw me out," Max said. "I'm legal."

"Yes, Max, you're legal." Max may be only four, but he knows how to watch out for number one.

A couple of times, Max and I went up the hill looking for a neighborhood monster. The second time, we came across an old, run-down, abandoned house.

"That's where the monster has been staying," I said in a hushed voice. Bent over, trying to be as quiet as possible, the two of us crept toward the house.

"How do you know?" the little guy whispered.

"I don't. But where else could he be if he is scaring the kids right here in the neighborhood?"

That made sense to Max. He nodded.

"Shhh. Stay here," I said. "I'll sneak up to the window and look in."

I got to the the window and looked in. I recoiled. Face a mask of sheer terror, I said, "He's there! He's there! He saw me! Run!"

Max took off like a little racehorse with me right behind him. We didn't stop running until we were back at the house.

"Well, we found him," I said, panting.

"Now we have to get him," Max said.

"Don't worry, we will."

Mornings I walked to my "office" at Starbucks where I had coffee, read my New York Times,  joked around with the staff, and even did some work. I am writing a paranormal novel, "Something Tells Her," about a 12-year-old girl who has been in foster homes and institutions all her young life.

Without family of any kind, she is entirely on her own -- except that something warns her of danger. Mia, pictured here, is my consultant. As we hang out, talk, play, and imagine together, I am learning about how a preteen girl thinks and acts -- and I'm writing.

Here I am at my Starbucks office in Edmonds at work on the novel. I tell everybody that the staff has reserved the VIP table, the largest in the place, for moi.

Actually, it is the handicapped table. The staff and all the regulars apparently think of me as an untreated psychiatric patient. Is Starbucks my away-from-home adult psych unit?  I guess I would be the last to know.

One thing I do know, is that I feel right at home here at Starbucks, both in Edmonds and Shoreline. In Edmonds, the staff makes fun of my Boston accent and I never saw people have more fun at work. Even with unending lines, they horse around, joke, and laugh almost nonstop.

They even sing and dance while on the job. I never saw that before, until I saw Gen and Amy do it in Edmonds. They are pictured here, Gen left and Amy right. I got up and applauded. "More, more."  But customers had to be served.

I asked Gen if she would come over to the handicapped table and sing and dance for me. She said she would be happy to, but never did. I asked Amy to come over and sing and dance for me. She said she would be happy to, but never got around to it.

Oh well, maybe when I come back in July, Gen and Amy will make it up to me. So ladies, rehearse. Get that song and dance routine down. In July, it's showtime for the old psycho. It could be a breakout performance!

I also went over to the Starbucks in Shoreline to see my old friends Kathi, Erin, and Brittani.  When Misha lived in Shoreline, that's where I went mornings to work and socialize. I miss the Starbucks gang there. When I walked in, they welcomed me not just as a customer, but as a friend.

They were busy and I could only stay a short time, but I did talk briefly with Brittani. "How are you doing these days?" I asked her during a short break in the steady line of customers.

Exuding warmth and caring, she spoke of her life, work, and dreams. She even followed up with an e-mail. The two of us are shown here.

Brittani was born and raised in Bellingham, Washington. She lived there until 2008 when she moved to Santa Barbara to attend Santa Barbara City College.

After a year, missing her family, she moved to Seattle. Over the 2008 Christmas break, she accompanied her parents to Haiti where they had been doing relief and missionary work. "Spending Christmas in Haiti changed who I am," she said. "I discovered a lot about myself."

She learned that life for her was "most joyful" when she helped others in serious need. She realized that she needed a career in which she could use "my compassion and love for others to help them." She chose nursing.

She said that a nurse develops relationships with patients that is unmatched. "To me, no value can be placed on being able to make someone smile, laugh, or ease any discomfort they might be in. To be paid to do this ... well, it's nothing short of a dream."

But how to make it happen? She said that her parents had paid for "previous educational flops," and she can't ask mom and dad for more financial help. "I need to do it on my own," she said.

She applied for an FAFSA grant and received a "pretty hefty" one. However, the grant comes with high personal and educational standards, which she says "keeps me working, and hard."

Brittani is now going to nursing school full time, working 20 hours a week at Starbucks, and supporting herself. She says that it is "insanely stressful." But, nearing the end of her first quarter, she says that she has "proved to myself that I am capable of something I never thought possible... I did well in school, which gave me a sense of self-confidence I have never before had."

Brittani says she still has a long way to go before she starts her nursing career, but happily adds  "I am well on my way."

Go, Brittani, go!

Next, in the Shoreline Starbucks, I hobnobbed with the Mayor, Keith McGlashan.  Yes, that's right, the Mayor of the city, not to mention that he also sits on the Shoreline City Council.

On top of that, ready for this? He also works at Starbucks. I  love being waited on by the Mayor of the city and saying "thank you, Mr. Mayor." Why he works at Starbucks, I explained in an earlier blog.

He wasn't working today, however, just stopping by to visit, chat, and glad-hand with constituents. In the photo, he chats with two of them.

"Hey, Mr. Mayor," I said. "Good to see you again. Remember we talked?"

"Sure. Back visiting again?"

"Yeah.  Listen, I know you're just running in and out but I wanted to ask you about that no-show, high-paying, government job we talked about."

"I'm working on it," he said.

"Great, living in Massachusetts, it would be hard for me to show up."

"I understand. Soon as I get back to the office, I'll make a phone call."

 "Great. Thank you, Mr. Mayor."

In the photo above of me with the Mayor, I look like a runt beside him. I'm not that short; he's a giant, like an unusually large number of Seattle men. I wrote about the "giants of Seattle" in that earlier blog. I thought the Mayor could have scrunched down for a future absentee co-worker on the city payroll.

Oh well, no big deal. My first check from the City of Shoreline should be arriving soon.

So long and keep moving.

 E-Books by George Pollock

"State Kid: Hero of Literacy" is fiction based on his  real-life experiences  growing up in foster homes; "Last Laughs," is the true story of how five foster kids (he and four younger siblings) found their way in life and each other. "Killers: Surprises in a Maximum Security Prison," is the story of his being locked up for 23 hours with killers in a maximum security prison;  "I, Cadaver" is about his postmortem adventures and mischief in the anatomy lab at UMass Medical School. “A Beautiful Story” demonstrates the art and process of creative writing as a 16-year-old boy goes all out to write a story that literally saves his life;  "A Long, Happy, Healthy Life," which is about how to live the title every day; and "Unlove Story," Writing anonymously as "Elvis," a husband, dumped after 38 years of marriage, lets it all out on love, marriage, life, everything. A guy doing this? Unheard of.

Seattle Candid Camera: Finding Pictures, Stories, and Laughs Seemingly Everywhere.

Our arrival in Seattle to visit our daughter Misha, husband Ed, and kids Mia, 9, Bella, 8, and Max, 4, got off to a sobering start. After my regular physical by doctors Bella and Max, shown above, Dr. Bella gave me some awful news.

"The numbers are bad, very bad," Dr. Bella said, her face a portrait of professional concern. "Your blood pressure is way up and your heart is not working right. You only have about two weeks to live."

"Two weeks, doctor? Are you sure?"

"Yes, we have to operate right now."

So the two of them, Dr. Bella and Dr. Max, swung into action. First, they gave me medication to put me to sleep.  The last thing I remembered before blacking out was Dr. Max reaching into a big box of  surgical instruments.

When I woke up, it was to a smiling Dr. Bella. "Good news," she said with a big smile. "You're going to be all right. The operation was successful."

"What did you do?" I asked.

"Heart transplant," Dr. Bella said.

"Yea, a heart transplant," Dr. Max said.

I didn't ask questions, like where they got the heart. I just said, "Oh, thank you, Dr. Bella and Dr. Max. Now I'm going to get even older."

Thanks to my two doctors, I was soon up and about. The next morning Barbara and I were in our second home, the nearby Starbucks that we walked to every morning.  One of the first things I noticed there is that one super tall guy after another walks in. I mean, these are guys with heads scraping the ceiling!

Here are a couple of photos of what I mean. The first is one of the giants. The other is of me and a giant that I walked up to and confronted about his abnormal height.

"You know that you are a lot taller than you should be," I said looking up at him.  "How come I have to watch one giant after another walk in here? Can you imagine how that makes me feel?"

He looked down at me and laughed.

I mentioned my problem to a couple of the baristas, Kathy and Erin, shown below.  Both said that they had never noticed more tall guys than usual, but would check it out.

Pretty soon, as one giant after another walked in, Kathy and Erin were giving each other and me knowing looks and having fun with it. My look back at them said, "Now, tell me I'm crazy."  And, indeed, both admitted later that they had never noticed all the tall guys.

The reason is right there in the history of the Northwest. I did a little research and found that early on there there was a major migration to the Northwest from Sweden, Norway, the Netherlands, and other Indo-European nations. These were areas with a large number of unusually tall males.

Their descendants are the giants of Seattle that march mockingly in front of me at Starbucks.

Did I mention that every morning in Starbucks Barbara and I sit in the VIP spot? No? Well, we do, in the corner at the front window where we can see everybody come and go. Actually, having a VIP spot saved for us is the least of how important we are at Starbucks.

On the day before were were to leave, guess who got our Tall and Grande Pike coffees--room for cream in Barbara's Grande--and two 8-grain rolls heated and with a little butter? Oh, yawn, yawn, just the mayor of Shoreline, the city where this Starbucks is located.  He is Keith McGlashan and he has been Mayor of Shoreline for two and a half years and a member of the City Council for six years.

The Mayor took our order, brought our coffees and rolls, and rung us up.  When he handed me my change, I said, "Thank you, Mr. Mayor." I had never been waited on by somebody so important.

At left, the Mayor serves our coffees. Right, I lobby the Mayor during his break. Notice how tall he is. Imagine that -- the Mayor of Shoreline coming in just to serve Barbara and me!

Oh, all right, I'm getting a little carried away. The truth is, Mayor McGlashan, 57, really does work at this Starbucks in Richmond Beach.  For thirty years, he owned a hair salon. At 55, he sold it and retired.

But even with his mayoral and Shoreline city council duties, he sought additional work. A regular at Starbucks, he wondered if the firm would hire someone his age. They would and did. And here he is waiting on Barbara and me and other Starbucks customers.

"Mr. Mayor," I said, "I have a question.  Why do you work at Starbucks? Why don't you just live off your mayor and city council pay, not to mention all the political payoffs?"

"I make $9,000 from the City Council and $11,000 as mayor," he said, assuming that would answer my question. It did.  Like the rest of us, he needs more than $20,000 to live a reasonable life.

You would never know it to look at him, but Mayor McGlashan is recuperating from a heart attack. He said heart problems run in his family, something he learned at 16 from a father he had never known and who promptly disappeared again. He said that his heart attack had been a "wake-up call."

Mayor McGlashan obviously has quite a story to tell. I wanted to hear it, but he had to get back to work.  Reading my mind like a true politician, the Mayor gave me his e-mail address and offered to be in touch by e-mail.

"Thank you, Mr. Mayor," I said. "Been a pleasure meeting you. We'll be in touch."

The Starbucks crew surprised us with a going-away Starbucks gift card. With it was a nice note: "We have so much enjoyed your company!  Come see us again when you're back. Your friends at Richmond Beach Starbucks."

How thoughtful. Thank you. We'll be back!

We didn't spend all our time at Starbucks. Our daughter Misha also had a "Japanese Tea Party" for Bella's 8th birthday. Yes, she is a very, very young doctor. In the lineup below of girls dressed in their kimonos at the party, Dr. Bella is 4th from the right. Her sister Mia, 9, is next to her, 3rd from the right.  The invitations, the food, the art, the kimonos themselves were all "authentic" Japanese.  Misha created the invitations, the framed art, and the kimonos herself.

Like every event Misha puts on, it was a great party, one that Bella, Mia, and all the girls will surely remember.  Before the tea party, Misha herself did up the girls' hair, complete with chopsticks, and friend Molly put on some make-up, before they all sat down to a scrumptious table of sushi, rice, chicken, tea, and home-made cupcakes.

In this photo is Bella, sister Mia, and, from left, Misha, her good friend Molly, and Barbara.  In the other photo, I am with the birthday girl, Bella.
     

In the two and a half weeks we stayed with Misha and Ed and kids (Mia, Bella, Max), we ate well.  That is an understatement.  Ed, a former chef, did some of the cooking. Here he is with one of his great meals, with little Max, 4, digging in.

We also explored Richmond Beach, the cities of Shoreline and Edmonds, and went to the farmer's market in Queen Anne.  Barbara and I went off one day to downtown Seattle. We took the kids out to area playgrounds, of which there are many. One afternoon, Barbara and I took all three kids to the  Edmonds Theater to see Cars 2.

Following are photos from these various adventures. The first is a photo of Barbara and me at the entrance to Richmond Beach.  A thoughtful woman offered to take a picture of us. There is no shortage of thoughtful and sociable people in the Seattle area.

 Here I am sitting on one of a huge number of logs on Richmond Beach, reading my New York Times.  The logs were washed ashore from recent powerful storms such as Japan's tsunami and have just been left there. They make great benches. They also serve to remind us of the awesome power of natural forces. As a rock-lover, I am in my glory below.  I found some beauties.

 I don't know about you, but when I look at the log below, I don't see a log. I see the remains of an alligator-like creature.

 Below I pat a lonely sea lion.  Being a water creature myself, we immediately bonded.

Ordinarily, Barbara doesn't care for photos with her back.  But I thought this was an interesting shot and she went along with it.

When we first arrived at Richmond Beach, the crows went wild.  I thought they were excited to see me. The real reason was that a red-tailed hawk had invaded their territory, threatening their young. Hiding in a tree with an open view, the hawk was hungry and hunting. He was scanning for  mice and other small prey to swoop down on.

The crows knew it and were "angry," said Jay Hornbeak of the Shoreline Parks Department, whom we met staring at the hunting hawk.  Yes, as we talked about birds with beaks, "Hornbeak" is his real name.  As we talked, the hawk flew off with squadrons of angry crows dive-bombing him out of there.   After that, I looked for a close-up of a crow and finally got the one below-- keeping an eye on human visitors to his territory. 

One day, Barbara and I just went for a drive and ended up in Pike's Market in Seattle.  At the fish counter, the fishmongers entertain, tossing fish back and forth. Of course, with the name Pollock and my love of the water, I'm half fish myself -- maybe more than half.

Here I look down on an unfortunate relative and soul mate, a rockfish. We both live in the water and love rocks and have similar rugged, masculine looks. Erin and Kathy, is that nice thinking of us as "ugly?" 

Now here are a few shots of the kids at play. We start with the athletic, if not balletic, Mia doing a beautiful cartwheel. Max emerges from his slide. Bella does a balancing act.  Mia strikes a majestic pose.

Mia's pose is a possible cover shot for my upcoming E-book, a paranormal novel about a 10-year-old girl with the "power." The title is, "Something Tells Her." Mia and Bella have both been suggesting plot ideas and making drawings for possible use in the book. Confronting strong waves below, Mia summons the "power."

And that's our glimpse of Seattle. We'll be going back in a few months. At 39, with three kids, Misha is pregnant with her fourth and is due in October.  Barbara and I will be there for the birth and to offer love and support.

To our friends at Starbucks, we'll be using that thoughtful gift certificate.  Could you please reserve our VIP seat by the window?  Appreciate it. 

Mr. Mayor, even though we have just met, I feel that we made a real connection. I was wondering if you could do me a small favor? You see, I have this friend in Shoreline and he has this problem with the city.... Oh, maybe it would be better if I e-mailed you. I'll do that. Sorry, I'm still learning how to use my new political influence.

So long and keep moving.

Amazon E-Books by George Pollock

 "State Kid: Hero of Literacy" is fiction based on his  real-life experiences  growing up in foster homes; "Last Laughs," is the true story of how five foster kids (he and four younger siblings) found their way in life and each other. "Killers: Surprises in a Maximum Security Prison," is the story of his being locked up for 23 hours with killers in a maximum security prison;  "I, Cadaver" is about his postmortem adventures and mischief in the anatomy lab at UMass Medical School. “A Beautiful Story” demonstrates the art and process of creative writing as a 16-year-old boy goes all out to write a story that literally saves his life;  "A Long, Happy, Healthy Life," which is about how to live the title every day; and "Unlove Story," Writing anonymously as "Elvis," a husband, dumped after 38 years of marriage, lets it all out on love, marriage, life, everything. A guy doing this? It's unheard of.

   For the Nook:

A Beautiful Story
A Long, Happy, Healthy Life
I, Cadaver
Killers
State Kid
Unlove Story