I was born at home at a time when hospitals had been taking over the birth process for quite a while already. When I tell people I was born in Aptos, they hesitate…and then say something like “Oh, you mean at the hospital in Santa Cruz.” or “You were born at HOME??”

Mom and Dad were republican hippies.  They believed in doing things themselves as much

as possible. We raised our own chickens, cows and apples and always had a big garden.

Mom made her own butter, soap and bread and Daddy made a minimal amount doing

advertising for some local firms. They never wanted to be under anyone else’s thumb and

due to rapidly rising property taxes took a drastic step when I was almost six in moving to a

200 acre ranch in Missouri. It was a major culture shock for us kids but I was a lot younger

than my sisters and adapted well to the freedom it gave me. 

I never melded socially but that was something I have carried most of my life.  I’ve made stabs at it and carried it off well once or twice but the time I cherish most is the time when I’m alone or with close family. 

Mom was a member of the PTA and probably pissed a lot of people off by being right-hand

man for the Principal George Beatty.  She was outspoken and held her ground when she

believed in something. Aptos was always home to an elitist group of liberals. Funny I should

become the antithesis of my parents’ beliefs; at least politically. I appreciate a lot of what

they taught me and the gift of independence that they instilled in me almost subliminally by

the way they lived their lives but still fruitlessly try to explain politics to my mother. She

was permanently marked by both the Great Depression and the McCarthy era. 

Missouri was the best in summer when I would wander the ranch all day only returning to

the house to eat. We had animals from the time I could remember and they and my Granny

were my best friends.   In winter it was torture attending the backward elementary schools

and dealing with the locals who were hesitant to accept outsiders. It wasn’t much different

when we moved to Florida; backward, hot, buggy and the ultimate nail in the coffin was that

Daddy died there.  After his death we all kind of drifted like scattered leaves. My sisters

went off to college and to start their own lives. Mom and I sold our house and moved into

own. I found solace with a friend who taught me boys, alcohol and various other incendiary

new experiences. Then my oldest sister returned to California and Mom and I followed her.



We arrived at Lake Tahoe and began the next stage of my life; as a California teen.