My parents lived through of the Great Depression and World War II. They started their family in the California Bay Area. My father worked at U.C Berkeley while my mother was a student there during the Vietnam War riots. My mom became disenchanted with the cause when the rioters blocked her way to class and peed on the books in the library. She had three kids that were going to need orthodontics and she wanted her degree. After her graduation in 1965, my parents moved our family to Lake Tahoe. While one of the most beautiful places on earth, perhaps they did not realize it was a haven for the Hippy hangover.
Thus I grew up to the mantra of pull yourself up by your bootstraps while the 1970’s world around me was leaning EST and how to built yurts. I trekked the mountains behind my house humming “I am Woman, Hear Me Roar” and “Feeling Groovy”.
In 1973 we moved to Reno and my parents opened up THE MEETING PLACE, a restaurant and bar on So. Virgina right in front of what is now Meadowood Mall. I was the dishwasher, and I would sit on the back steps and there was nothing between Virgina Street and the eastern mountains. It seemed so far out of town. At first I felt out of place at Earl Wooster High School. At Tahoe we called Reno, Draino. But it wasn’t. I made friends on my first day of school and I still have them today. I came quickly to love the big sky, and the smell of the earth after the rain on our desert town. The Zephyr and Galena winds. The sounds of coyotes in a cold winter. I believe I am living in the Wild Wild West, and it’s exactly where I want to be.