AARP Eye Center
There were some who advised us that, in our 70s, we were too old to t ravel in Africa. We were more Paris than Kenya, they said. More London than Dar Es Salaam. And there was a night on the Masai Mara when we were surrounded by lions that I wondered if they might not be right.
To those who have never been charged by an elephant, surrounded by lions or had their underwear stolen by wild monkeys, I have a treat for you: It's called travel.
We sold Cindy's car the other day, a smart little 2004 Chevy Monte Carlo, and as we watched the new owner drive it out of sight, we realized that a part of us had gone with it.
Those who've been in New York's Trump Tower must be amused by the audacity of tourists who gaze in wonder at its grandeur and say-with the determination of an ant aspiring to be an elephant-that some day they're going to own a tower too.
I am having difficulty convincing my wife that now that I am the Bard of L.A., as officially designated by the Huntington Library, I am due certain privileges that non-Bards do not receive.
I was sitting on a bench at the Santa Monica Pier one day, watching the Ferris wheel spin, when a young boy sat on the other end, stared at me for awhile and then suddenly asked, "Are you Chinese or Mexican?" That's when I began to wonder about my genealogy.
Good morning. My name is Martinez. I write.