206/365: Monsignor Cantwell

He seemed about 105 years old when I was in grammar school. He was the pastor of our church and said the fastest Latin Mass on record, hunched over, whispering the words as if he were afraid someone might hear him. I used to go to his early morning Mass because it was quick, to get credit with the nuns for being a “good girl.”

205/365: Tony #2

Radio personality. My favorite for many years. I finally had the opportunity to work for and with him on a big project and discovered he was as delightful as he always sounded on the radio. Later, I went to see his program and spent some time with him. What a sweet, interesting man. It’s nice when celebrities you like turn out to really be likeable!

204/365: Betty

My mother’s lifelong friend. A Stanford graduate fiercely proud of her alma mater. So disappointed in me when I didn’t pledge a sorority. She has an opinion about everything and knows she’s right. Fastidious to the point of ridiculous. Hated Walt when she knew I was going to marry him. Unfortunately she now has Alzheimers and may not know who my mother is any more.

203/365: Bobby

How can so many people have been so wrong about him? He came into the family as an in-law. We all loved him. He was so good with his bride and they were so much in love. He threw himself into belonging. Then suddenly one day it all snapped. He threw his wife out, set about destroying her self esteem. A bad man, after all.

202/365: Mike

We’ve had an off-again, on-again relationship, once very close, then very much on the outs for reasons I never really understood. He had a serious health crisis several years ago and we thought he might die. It seems to have softened him and I’m seeing a camaraderie between us that is very nice, but strange. It’s all e-mail; I haven’t seen him in many years.

201/365: Ruth #2

Her first comment to me, on seeing 5 small children, was “there are a lot of them, aren’t there?” She called the city to report our dogs, and then later told me that “nobody in the neighborhood likes you.” It set the tone for my life in this house. Later, we seen to have made peace, as we have both buried adult children too soon.

200/365: Mel

I really never knew my aunt, but she is legendary in our family. She was married thirteen times to twelve different men (#5 and #7 were the same guy). She was also the first woman in California to get her pilot’s license, worked as a nurse, a ballerina, ran AA for the last half of her life, lost a young child in an auto accident.

199/365: LS

He was the most respected man in his field in town when I went to work for him. But his business grew and he eventually became corrupted by the power he was given. I heard recently that he had been fired, which saddens me so much because I held him in such high esteem. I’m glad I wasn’t there to see the change in him.

198/365: The Patient #2

When I was typing medical reports over some 12-15 years, I developed the ability to forget things that I typed almost immediately, but this patient was also a good friend and so all these years later, I still remember the unique foibles, though I wish I didn’t. S/he doesn’t have a clue I know but I can’t help thinking about that every time we meet.

197/365: Leslie Jordan

I saw this diminutive actor (remember Megan Mullally’s nemesis in “Will and Grace”?) when he was performing in a play called “Southern Baptist Sissies” in Hollywood. He was very funny and I stood next to him in the lobby for awhile after the show was over. Does that count as “meeting” him? I also read his autobiography, which is a terrific book, funny and poignant

196/365: The Actor

Our interview was the longest I’d ever conducted. Many hours of self-aggrandizement. When it was over, I had almost nothing that could be used in the project. Transcribing it took forever and scraping something together that was usable was a huge chore. In the end, I think he was very angry about what I wrote. But many years later, we seem to be friends again.

195/365: Glen

I still see him around town, riding his dilapidated bicycle, big floppy hat on his head, a bag of some sort slung over one shoulder. The father of one of the guys in the band who went to all the shows to take photos. Most of his photos were pretty bad, but thanks to Glen we have a thorough history of the band’s 10 years.

194/365: Paula

My mother’s best friend, for the past ten years. What a delight she is. Originally French Canadian, now living in the states, with a lovely accent and the best sense of humor of anyone I’ve met in a long time. I’m so glad she’s in my mother’s life. They are like young girls together and she has started coming to family events. Everyone loves her.

193/365: The Guru

I’d heard her name for years and thought we had met years ago, but we hadn’t until recently. She’s high powered, all-knowing and unfortunately looking down her techno-nose at those of us who aren’t up to her level. I expected to like her, but I don’t think I really did, which is too bad because our jobs threw us together too much of the time.

192/365: Ted

I babysat for his kids. He was a jokster. At Christmas he gave me a huge beautiful box. I was so excited! When I opened it, inside was a limp stalk of celery. I wanted to cry. I didn’t realize he had hidden the REAL gift under the tissue paper and I’d thrown the box away until he asked me if I’d found the surprise.

191/365: Garlic Girl

They say garlic is good for you. I once worked with this woman, who took copious quantities of it – so much that the smell excreted through her pores. And lemme tell you, the odor of excreted garlic isn’t ANYTHING like garlic breath. I would become nauseous working with her and always had to sit by an open window. She was otherwise a nice lady, but...

190/365: Ron Dellums

We met him at a fund raiser when he ran for his first political office in the civil rights 70s. A large, powerful looking black man with a big Afro, in photographs. How odd it was to discover that he sounded more like Michael Jackson than James Earl Jones. He’s still in politics, though now a white haired old man who makes me feel old.

189/365: Jill

Simply delightful British immigrant, who made her living crawling around in the sewers of San Francisco (at least some of the time). I adore this woman. She has volunteered for many years for our favorite San Francisco theater company, worked as a dresser there for many years. She is now retired and has taken up watercolor painting, which seems a very “British” thing to do!

188/365: Brian

I worked with his ex-wife, whom I detested, and ran into him at a Weight Watcher meeting. He hooked me for a transcription job when I was too wimpy to say no. I did that and a year later he was back with a second one. Boring, boring, boring job. I wish I could learn how to say “no.” We’ve both regained our WW-lost weight.

187/365: O

The bionic woman. She has lived with chronic pain all of her life, yet has led a full, productive life. We hit it off from the beginning and have been friends for several years. One of those people who fade in and out of your life and you never know when she is going to be sociable and when she wants to be left alone.