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This birthday, Keller takes Cookie sailing off La Jolla Shores. Ringing in another year brings time for reflection, joy, humor and appreciation   "...all the gardens of spring and summer were blooming in the tall tales Beyond the border and under the lark full cloud. There could I marvel my birthday...." --Dylan Thomas STORY By CHRISTENE MEYERS PHOTOS By BRUCE KELLER AS I MARK  my birthday tomorrow, I am thankful that I, too have "lark full cloud" and another summer "blooming in the tall tales." Cookie in her birthday togs.  How lucky I am to mark another year, dividing my time with beloved family and friends in Montana and sweet, smart kind Keller, my partner, in California. To be able to appreciate the natural world is, besides my human circle, my greatest pleasure. HOW SAD  life would my life be without gardens, birds, mountains, our gorgeous sea and sky. I am thankful to have the health and time to travel. Born and raised in Montana,I've celebrated about half of my birthdays "elsewhere." When I was three, I spent my first out-of-state birthday in Kansas, where my family had driven to visit my Aunt Lillian and Uncle Ronnie. Keller and Cookie celebrate  in Rome at Trevi Fountain.  I HAVE  a vivid memory of climbing into the tornado shelter near the house, wiping a cobweb from my face and shrieking at the thought that a spider might be nesting there! As a grade-school kid, I spent birthdays along the Stillwater River at our family's cabin. We feasted on corn on the cob and steaks from 4-H beef,  crowning the meal with one of my mother's famous artistic cakes. Sometimes she crafted a scene from a musical  ("Oklahoma" complete with the corn fields and surrey with the fringe on top.) The Cosgriffes, from left bottom: Cookie, Olivia, Patrick; top row, Robbie, mum Ellen, Misha, Peny, Rick, circa 1979. I remember the ghost stories my father told around the campfire and late-night walks with my sister Peny. One night, she bolted when she thought she heard a man's voice in the chokecherry bushes. Peny's long runner's legs moved faster than mine.  She had the lantern! BUT WE made it safely back to the cabin, I following by  five frightened, breathless minutes. I spent my 18th birthday on the night train from Paris to Florence, my first foray to Europe as a so-called adult. Many birthdays abroad followed. A happy birthday, Yellowstone Park style! Bruce and I spent another birthday sailing the Queen Elizabeth II across the Atlantic. Billy and I marked a birthday in Bora Bora, watching manta rays through a glass floor. Keller and I have toasted my birthday in Yellowstone Park, on a ship harbored in Monte Carlo, in Rome with lunch at the Tivoli Fountain, sailing out of Barcelona, and whale watching and wine tasting in Santa Barbara. I SPENT A  birthday at "Sweeney Todd" in New York the year Angela Lansbury won the Tony as Mrs. Lovett.  I won $2,500 another birthday at a blackjack table in Las Vegas. Whoopee! Ordered a room service bottle of Dom Perignon. Cookie's favorite birthday treats.   Cookie, Keller on  Atlantic crossing . I've had some melancholy birthdays, including my first one without my mother's "happy birthday" phone call. Or my birthday the August my daddy died . "Firsts" are tough without the folks we love. I'VE BLOWN  out the candles on several continents, and with adored nieces and nephews. I spent one birthday in England on the balcony of the Hotel Intercontinental.  The manager, born in America,  heard it was my day and feted us-- and five other American couples -- to cocktails and caviar. I don't need a birthday cake.  A chocolate souffle or raspberry mousse is wonderful. I'd love a bowl of my gran's bread pudding with rum sauce this birthday. Or creme brule, my favorite dessert. All  hold a single Cookie's birthday last year -- her wish: "and many more." Cookie and Keller on his birthday.  candle nicely, and who needs more than one flame? Candles  become a fire hazard as one ages and the numbers increase. Some people ignore birthdays.  I celebrate for more than a month, much to the teasing of my friends. My birthday begins August 1 and ends on Labor Day -- this year, Labor Day comes early, Sept. 2.  I like it when that first Monday of the month comes as late as it can, September 6! Cookie celebrating with niece Amarylla. CALL IT  hubris.  Call it gilding the lily. Call it honking my own horn! (I did that too, one birthday, playing my saxophone with friend Art Daniel at the Cowboy Bar in Fishtail.) I don't care. It's my day, so happy birthday to me! And thank you friends and family for indulging me days on end. I love you and cherish you all. I appreciate all the birthdays we've shared, yours and mine! I hope for many more, "without no pants on." That last little line prompts a late-August blog on my mum's birthday. As we blow extinguish our candles and light a hope for the future, let's remember what George Bernard Shaw said: Age is strictly a case of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter!" Cookie and Corby cruise the Greek Isles on his birthday. COMING SOON: The Alberta Bair Theater in Billings has a rich history, evolving from its 1931 birth as the nation's last Fox Theatre. See how Corby Skinner and Cookie helped save it. And enjoy a look at sexy Rudolph Valentino and his star-gazing effect on Cookie's mother -- and Cookie! Remember to explore, learn, live.  And catch us Wednesdays and Saturdays at: www.whereiscookie.com

DRIVING MISS COOKIE Travails and triumph at California's DMV; Driver gives thanks for the U.S. system, despite lines, crowds, waits and red tape STORY By CHRISTENE MEYERS PHOTOS By BRUCE KELLER California freeways are not for the timid or shy.  But for the most part, we transit them safely and without incident. Who knew that one must take the drive test when one wants a California driver's license? And that one's complete name (i.e. birth certificate, passport) must match the license....it is not merely the matter of "a Cookie by any other name"!  After nearly five years of driving California freeways, and living months at a time in San Diego, I wanted my California license. And I wanted one, uniform name! "Oh, joy!" One of the applicants for license renewal has his paperwork completed as he enters the DMV. MY SAGA BEGAN  a month ago when, thinking I'd simply take the vision test, provide my passport and old Arizona driver's license, I waltzed in to DMV and was greeted by a pleasant middle-aged woman with a lyrical Russian accent. I said, in my halting Russian, "zdravstvuj" -- hello. She lit up and launched into a long Russian sentence, something to do with the weather and long lines.  I admitted to knowing only about 100 words of her lovely  native tongue, but that broke the ice. She clasped my hand and gave me a tiny piece of paper with a four-digit code.  In about 45 minutes or an hour, I'd be called to a window. Watch the video screens for my number to come up.  When the letter and three numbers were called, I'd be summoned to one of two dozen windows at the San Diego Department of Motor Vehicles. And I'd find what awaited me. AS MY NEW  Russian friend had warned, there was a long line. Elderly, partly deaf people hollering (why do some hearing-impaired people scream?)  Teens on their cell phones.  A middle-aged couple arguing about who owed whom money on the mortgage. Another lady talking to a car repair shop, telling them they did a rotten job on her Corvette and added insult ti injury by misspelling her name on the bill. A few puzzled looking, nicely dressed people were waiting patiently with me to be called forth. They would have been more comfortable on a country club patio sipping Perrier and G&Ts. A busy Cairo street last autumn makes American drivers thankful. Keller and the Yorkies were waiting outside in the car -- we had only one vehicle that day, speaking of car repairs -- so I alerted them of the delay and returned to watch for my number. I thought of crazy-drivers Cairo, and the traffic in Egypt, happy I wouldn't be driving there any time soon. I had a notebook and some bills to pay. The signs warned against snacking or drinking on the premises.   There weren't enough chairs for the crowd, which stretched out the door into the lazy summer afternoon. A pleasant man of Chinese descent called me to window 22. I took the vision test -- both eyes passed -- then he peered long and hard at my The DMV is about to open, an early morning three weeks ago. By afternoon lines would be snaking between the traffic cones. documents: Arizona driver's license, issued to Christene Cosgriffe Meyers, good for another few months, Social Security number, birth certificate, credit card statements.  Fingers flying on his computer, he could find no match at SS for me.  "Your name does not verify.  Your date of birth is valid," he reported. AHA, I THOUGHT.  That's because I'm actually and officially Ellen, but have never used the name given me by my poetic mother, also Ellen.  I've been Chrissy and Chris, Christene, Cookie and Christena.  Some of my official documents are issued to  Ellen, my actual birth name. Mum thought "Ellen Christene" flowed more musically than Christene Ellen.  "But we knew no one would ever call you Ellen," she said blithely one time I asked. "There were already several Ellens in the family." Said my new Chinese friend, "In the eyes of Social Security, you don't exist. You must go see them." Many ways and modes to drive -- whether in New York's Central Park, or on a street in New Orleans, southern Spain or Rome. Here, by the Colosseum, a driver checks his e-mail during a lull.  He returned my passport (Ellen Christene etc.) and my Arizona driver's license (Christene Cosgriffe etc.), as well as other documents including my birth certificate, which even includes "Cookie" with my maiden name, of course. A Baptist editor had changed my byline in 1969, so I had a married handle for decades. "YOU NEED TO  have a few less names," joked my DMV helper.  "One would be best. Simplify. You have too many handles." We both laughed.  Mine was a hollow ha-ha-ha. "Take this appointment slip and come back after you sort out the name," said. "I've given you a couple days." The whole point of obtaining a California driver's license was to add the "Ellen" which would then match my travel documents.  Since Sept. 11, I've used Ellen on all my international air and cruise tickets, to correspond with my passport. TSA insists on the match and so do the cruise lines.  I wanted to stop lugging my passport around for eomestic flights. Cairo drivers come in all vehicles, including horses and donkeys. Leaving San Diego DMV for my work ahead,  I thought how orderly our system is. Imagine how one would sort this all out in the Middle East?  In Cairo, Arab friends told us, if a donkey cart and auto collide, whoever can leave does so.  The other guy simply abandons his car or cart. No police. No forms. No insurance and no repair. We may have lines, but we have laws and order, mostly obeyed. It took me most of the rest of that last week in California before my Montana summer, to get the name sorted out. I sat in line at Social Security, again taking a number and waiting to be called.  I ordered a new card. SS added Ellen.  Now my name would "verify" at DMV, so I returned there, having gotten myself "Ellen-ized." I MADE A   few more calls to credit cards and airlines I'd missed with the "Ellenization" and am now -- mostly Ellen Christene on my docs. If I've forgotten something, I'll find out. Cookie emerges from a week of lines, forms, phone calls and a driver test, and is now an official California driver. And, oh, yes, expecting to have only my photo taken and be out the door at DMV, I learned I had to take the written test. I'd not done this since I got my first license 45-plus years ago. I took the test with Grandpa Gus in 1965 because he had accidentally let his expire. We both passed then went to the A&W for hamburgers and root beer floats.  I drove his old green Plymouth. Fun memory. I must admit -- full disclosure -- that I missed two of the 40 questions.  One asked where one should not park (I couldn't decide: I wouldn't park on white diagonal lines, within 20 feet of a railroad, or in a bicycle lane, so I marked all three options. Diagonal lines was the answer the DMV wanted.)  I can't remember the other one I missed, but the questions were clumsily composed and confusing. Maybe in my next life, I'll author  driver's license tests and make them easier to understand. My little DMV/SS week had bright spots.  Besides the FAXes, driving time, search for documents, lines and hanging out with the masses, I heard a delightful melange of Russian, Arabic, Italian, "Driving" near the pyramids of Giza doesn't necessarily mean "car." Mandarin, Thai, Korean, Cantonese, Vietnamese and many other languages. The driver's tests study manuals were printed in a dozen languages, which I perused  during my waits. THIS WAS NOT  a "straight A" day for me, and I would have gotten a spanking for bringing a less than perfect grade school test home to daddy, but, hey, I'm a legal California driver. I have beautiful freeways and mostly polite fellow drivers. We have cars, not donkeys and camels. We have policemen! As I departed DMV, I waved and smiled a  "do svidania" to my pleasant Russian friend. She clapped her hands as I showed my interim driver license! California, here she comes: the freeway to Los Angeles. "Nice photo," said my partner, the other day on the phone. I'd asked him to open it and check it out, before bringing it to me soon in Montana. "Nice photo?" I barked. "It's horrible. Line 'em up, white background, head on. Ugh." I'm looking at the proof now. An extra chin and what the hell happened to my neck? But I'm Ellen Christene Cosgriffe Meyers in the state of California, rotten photo or not. Keller must be in love. COMING UP:   We're horsing around for the Fourth of July, with beautiful photos and a special tribute to this noble beast: next Wednesday.  Then flower power, gliders, the excitement in Brazil and much more. Remember to explore, learn and live and check out our blogs every Wednesday and Saturday at: www.whereiscookie.com

Betty works out at Jazzercise on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. She still has a beautiful singing voice and an inner beauty to match.  Praised by critics for her phrasing and sophistication, Betty has a career spanning more than 70 years JAZZING it up with flair for decades Betty Bennett Lowe keeps her tempo through active life, including Jazzercise work-outs and the occasional gig Editor's Note:   This story first appeared five years ago, when Betty was a mere 92. She will be 97 in October and is coping with the loss of her beloved husband, jazz artist Mundell Lowe. Despite her grief (the couple married in 1975) Betty maintains her wit and fitness, looking for a new Jazzercise venue since her favorite Jazzercise studio closed. She credits years of Jazzercise for helping her cope with life's ups and downs. STORY AND PHOTOS By CHRISTENE MEYERS PHOTO EDITING & SCANNING By BRUCE KELLER SINGER  Betty Bennett Lowe was making headlines in the jazz world long before most of us were born. In the lingo of show biz, "she's seen them come and seen them go" -- many departing to that big jazz performance hall in the sky, and some fly-by-nights relegated to the annals of the dreaded footnotes of the "also ran." Betty, left, enjoys birthday cake and a tribute from the writer. Jazzercise friends threw a party for Betty Bennett Lowe on her 95th birthday. Betty is the real deal -- authentic and original. She grew up on the music of Duke Ellington, Count Basie and Fats Waller, listening to her mother play piano in their parlor in Lincoln, Nebraska. "I ALWAYS  had music in my soul," says Betty, taking time out from her ritual Monday-Wednesday-Friday Jazzercise work-outs in San Diego. "Of course, in those days, it was not  common for women to have musical careers, especially in jazz.  Actually, I was classically trained with dreams of becoming a dramatic soprano, not a big band singer. Things change."  As often the case with talent and luck, fate intervened and hijacked the potential classical singer to the jazz and pop forum. The director of the college dance band asked Betty to join. A vintage photo of Betty shows her beautiful smile and cheekbones.  She did, and that led to a stint with a traveling "territory band".  In the next months of touring, BETTY BENNETT became known for her elegant phrasing and perfect sense of pitch. She received fine reviews, but after grueling months on the road, she grew tired of that life and moved to New York to play the big clubs. By then, World War II was waiting in the wings.  Betty was singing in Manhattan's "Famous Door" and working gigs in Atlantic City.  In 1943 she joined Georgie Auld's Big  Band and moved to Los Angeles.  When the war broke out, Betty joined the Navy, and was mistress of ceremonies for a national jazz music show. Through the 1940s and '50s, Betty sang with most of the big bands -- famous band leaders such as  Benny Goodman.  She was known by her contemporaries as a singer with style and sophistication. The great vocalist Sarah Vaughan said, "the kid can sing!"  High praise from one of the all-time famous jazz singers. TAKING TIME out to raise a family, Betty retired from her musical career.  But as recently as the 1980s, she came out of retirement to headline at the famed Monterey Jazz Festival.  She's a huge supporter of her husband, musician Mundell Lowe and accompanies him to Los Angeles where he still performs in jazz clubs. Bennett's youthful energy and soul-deep beauty belie her age. She will be 93 this October. "The trick is to keep moving, keep active, keep involved," she says. " I also believe that keeping company with younger people is a good antidote to aging, too." Jazzercise: more than fitness -- it aids mental health Her husband, a world class jazz guitarist, is Betty's age, apparently sipping from the same fountain of youth. In earlier days, the Lowes toured Europe, playing well known jazz clubs in Paris and London. And still earlier in Betty's life, she was married to famed jazz pianist, arranger,  composer and conductor Andre Previn. The two parted amicably and, as Betty says with a smile and shrug, "we still talk." Betty with Charlie Ventura a famous sax player . Betty has albums and CDs, and wrote a book that makes lively reading.  "The Ladies Who Sing With the Band" pays homage to the "girl singers" who  toured with the big bands of WWII era. It highlights the famous names of the day, including Charlie Ventura and on through the years to Dizzy Gillespie and others Betty knew and performed with. In typical Betty modesty, she demures when asked to talk about her phenomenal life and career. Betty Bennett Lowe calls Jazzercise "my religion"  -- and praises instructor Debbie Walters, who is also a dear friend. (Since this article first appeared, Walters has retired from her studio and Lowe is sad.) "I suppose I have done a few interesting things," she says. "True, I'm still going -- I'm not about to stop as long as I can keep moving, be productive and enjoy." To that end, Jazzercise keeps her fit. She credits it with aiding her recovery from a serious car accident a few years back, and for keeping her current with music. In her front-row, corner  Jazzercise spot, she can "move like Jagger"  -- and she tosses off pithy one-liners to amuse her peers and coach. San Diego instructor Deborah Walters calls Betty "a rock star, an inspirational figure." Says Walters, "Betty has it all:  style, sass, longevity and the desire to keep herself limber and fit." Ready for her close-up: Betty Lowe's tenacity, class and beauty shine. BETTY STILL frequents jazz clubs, occasionally singing a tune, and she is designated driver when Mundell plays Los Angeles clubs.  (He is recently back from Europe and Betty caught up with her girlfriends during his trip.  Mundell is an icon in the jazz guitar world and was featured last year on a KPBS feature aired in San Diego. Betty's music has also been featured on the Jazz 88.3 FM station.) Her book, "The Ladies Who Sing with the Band" was published in 2000. She has many more stories to tell about her ground-breaking life and career. RECENTLY , a musician friend and Jazzercise colleague sat down to play an old organ in the Moose Hall where one of the San Diego Jazzercise classes takes place.   Betty maneuvered herself  to the keyboard to croon a few bars of "Just in Time,"  "It Had to Be You," and "Someone to Watch Over Me." Betty has a portfolio of studio portraits, this one from the early 1960s. She has several CDs and albums, including "I Thought About You," taking its title from the melancholy jazz ballad made famous by Frank Sinatra, Billie Holiday and others.  Two of her few contemporaries still  around are singer Tony Bennett and National Public Radio's "Piano Jazz" star and creator, Marian McPartland. BESIDES MUSIC  and fitness, Betty leads a full, satisfying life.  She frequently walks the neighborhood with her dog. She volunteers at a soup kitchen.  She reads contemporary fiction, lunches with "the girls."  She's a kind and considerate friend, curious and supportive.  She loves to cook and entertain family and friends at dinner parties. She accompanies her husband to gigs in Los Angeles, where he plays jazz guitar. "That's the ticket," says Betty. "Keeping yourself active and in decent shape. You've got to get off your rear and make yourself part of this changing world." That's Betty:  still embracing life, still cracking wise.  Still active. Still Jazzercising at 92. "Actually, 92 and one-half," she says. Remember, time flies. I'll be 93 in October." At left, part of the Jazzercise group from San Diego's Moose Hall. Jazzercise is "religion" for Betty Lowe. She is in the front row, next to instructor Debbie Walters, in white top with blue laces. More Saturday! COMING UP: Inspired by Betty Lowe's passion for Jazzercise, we take a look at this popular fitness program which combines music, movement, aerobics, dance and fun for a total body workout.  What makes it so successful? Find out next week. Then we explore the glider port in San Diego and entice you with Montana's summertime pleasures. Keep yourself tuned up like Betty Lowe does, at  whereiscookie.com We post on Fridays and promise to make you smile and think as we explore travel, nature and the arts Whether you're gardening, walking, working out, reading, cooking, or planning a trip to Europe, remember to explore, learn and live!

Cookie joined thousands of other Jazzercise dancers on the USS Midway in San Diego, to fight breast cancer.  COME JOIN, GET FIT, JAZZ IT UP!  Here's how Jazzercise helped one woman survive widowhood twice -- and more International fitness program fosters friendships, is good for what ails you  (This story first appeared in 2013.  It is having a second life thanks to national interest in a Jazzercise star, 96-year old singer Betty Lowe. Cookie's Jazzercise moves around, like she does. The Moose Lodge venue is no more but Cookie is at Jazzercise Carmel Valley and Morena Blvd.) Judi Sheppard Missett, founder of Jazzercise, was interviewed by Cookie many years ago for an airline magazine article on fitness. They reconnected during a Jazzercise fundraiser on the Midway in San Diego in 2016.  STORY and PHOTOS By CHRISTENE MEYERS and BRUCE KELLER Jazzercise was born in California. This group works out in San Diego. That's Debbie Walters in the center, one of Cookie's Jazzercise coaches. GETTING UP,  getting active, getting your fanny to exercise. That's the challenge for millions of us who embrace daily fitness rituals. Like most good habits, they become a valued part of our routine because they improve our lives. No, it's not always easy to arise, get dressed, grab a coffee or banana and get your weary self to exercise. But when we do, we're glad we did. SO IT IS  with my almost daily Jazzercise ritual. When I'm on the west coast, I rarely miss Jazzercise.  The San Diego area -- just south of the birthplace of Jazzercise in Carlsbad -- has several Jazzercise venues. I currently enjoy weekday Jazzercise in  Carmel Valley with Sharon Anthony-Ticho. Saturdays, I'm at the Musicians Union with Rick Nesbitt's group. I've danced with Jazzercise around the globe. Jazzercise, along with Nick and Nora and a desert garden helped Cookie recover from the loss of her second husband in Arizona. Jazzercise is welcoming, fun, reasonably priced and pleasantly addictive. It's also therapeutic. After the deaths of two husbands, Jazzercise helped me rebound. Travel, gardening, music and my Yorkies helped me regain health in the mountains of Montana and the Arizona desert. I'm especially grateful for Phoenix Jazzercise friends and empathic coaches P.K. Callison and Cindy Schulz who shared their studios and fitness tips to help heal body and soul! THROUGH JAZZERCISE,  I've met fellow teachers, artists, musicians, world travelers and writers, gardeners, gourmet cooks and bird watchers. I've found fellow play-and-opera goers, avid walkers and hikers through Jazzercise. In San Diego,  favorite Jazzercise venues are the Moose Hall on Ruffin Road, and the Musicians Union on Morena, near Mission Bay.  I've been following Sharon Ticho's Jazzercise because I like her style, enthusiasm and roster of teachers -- each unique and spirited. I first met Sharon when she subbed for my friend Debbie Walters at a funky Jazzercise venue with  a giant moose head San Diego Jazzercise instructor Debbie Walters was honored after class on her May birthday. overseeing our moves.  The Musicians Union has a beautiful wood floor and is light, airy and near the ocean. Both are fun with excellent coaches and enthusiastic followings. Some devotees, such as Betty Lowe featured here June 19, have been doing Jazzercise for decades. Jazzercise with a 90-plus jazz singer I've "jazzed" in New York state during my post-grad studies at Sarah Lawrence College, in Atlanta when visiting my sister Misha, and at many other cities during work and press trips -- San Francisco, New York, New Orleans, Portland, Philadelphia and Chicago. I worked out to Jazzercise with my late mother, Ellen, a treasured memory, and with sisters Olivia, Misha and Robbie. When I'm  in Montana, I exercise with a group of a half-dozen friends at the local Fire Hall. We use Jazzercise DVDs I've collected through the years -- one concentrates on abdominals, and there's a fun one on street jazz. Others combine jazzy Latin rhythms with weights and aerobics.  Some of the girls bring other DVDs, ranging from yoga to pilates, so we mix it up with our coach Laurie Beers figuring the venue each day to keep everyone happy. When Cookie's in Montana, she  and Keller hike to the top of the property on a series of switchbacks. Here friends and the Yorkies join the couple. When I'm  the only one able or interested, I opt instead to walk briskly to "the top of the prop" -- a switchback trail up the mountain behind my country place here in Montana. Sometimes I drag a couple friends along. And the Yorkies, Nick and Nora. Sometimes I play my saxophone up there, listening to it ricochet off the rock. Since there is no gym here in the rural northern Rockies in the shadow of the Beartooth Mountains, we are on our own to keep fit. (The town of Nye is "blink and you'll miss it" -- in fact a sign near the Post Office says, "entering and leaving Nye".) In place of a formal program, we devise our own, and have been at it for three years. Billings, the nearest "big city" -- around 100,000 -- offers several venues of Jazzercise, too. Brenda Jazzercise is followed by jazz.  At the "top of the prop" in Montana,  jazz comes  from Cookie's saxophone. Friends enjoy a cocktail. Binstock, who leads us at the Knights of Columbus Hall, has been jazzing nearly as long as my coaches in San Diego. One of my  California instructors, the amiable Rick Nesbitt, tells of meeting the dynamic Jazzercise founder and CEO Judi Sheppard Missett many years ago in the days of paisley and flower power. The shapely Missett has turned Jazzercise into a worldwide phenomenon, with catalogues for jazz togs and classes to sample in Europe and even Asia (the Japanese, especially, love Jazzercise.)  One of the San Diego substitutes, introduced to us by Debbie at the Moose Lodge, is named Hiroko and is a native of Japan. The DVDs  we enjoy in Nye feature Missett and her daughter Shanna Missett Nelson, along with Jenet Morrison and others in the fit and jazzy California Jazzercise contingent.  Many have been at Jazzercise for years. Cookie's California time  encourages fitness, with fine climate, hiking and outdoor exercise, here near Morrow Bay with Keller, Nick and Nora. What I like about the program is its combination of lively music, a total body workout and socialization. This lifelong tap dancer loves the dance aspect, and we move to the tunes of time honored crooners such as Tony Bennett as well as newer talents such as Adam Levine. At fitness centers and gyms, there is seldom much banter or conversation. Jazzercise provides an opportunity to have fun, chat a bit, and still get the important exercise we all need. In cross-country driving trips, I've noticed that people are fatter in the Midwest and northern climes. It's not a mystery. Keller is coaching Cookie's sailor prowess. He has been on boats and oceans since boyhood, growing up in southern California. One has to work harder to keep fit in places plagued by long winters and harsh cold spells....... that's why in my San Diego time, I notice little obesity. It's a fit, outdoorsy place. I love my time there, which most days includes some ocean and hiking time.  Often, we go sailing.  Wherever Cookie is, I'm doing my best to wage war against the ravages of gravity and changing metabolism.  It's possible to combine exercise with nature watching. Thanks to Jazzercise for inspiring me to keep in shape in California and on the road.  My Nye pals enjoy my summertime Jazzercise DVDs. Call 1 800 FIT-IS-IT or go to www.jazzercise.com and plug in your zip code to find a close-by Jazzercise venue.   Montana's summers offer welcome chance to explore Here, Cookie's family hikes up Sioux Charlie trail, river raging.  COMING UP:  It's officially summer in Montana. The birds are back, the hummers are sucking up sugar water, the bears are visiting, the rivers are raging, snows are melting and the green, green grass of home is wet with dew. We'll take you to the Arizona desert for star and saguaro gazing, to Europe, with tips on how to make the most of treasured time there. Plus pointers on getting a first-time California driver's license, flying high at the Torrey Pines glider port and more. Check out our Friday posts at: whereiscookie.com   And remember to explore, learn and live!

The writer and photographer say "ship ahoy, mates" on a Jada lark.  STORY By CHRISTENE MEYERS PHOTOS By BRUCE KELLER Many people dream of owning their own yacht. Few accomplish that fantasy. For Carole Noska the dream became a reality a few years ago when she and a couple partners purchased the classic yawl, Jada. "She needed a lot of love but we saw the potential," says Noska. "Originally, we planned to renovate her and flip her."  But the sprightly sailor with a background in marketing and public relations changed her mind. "Slowly, I came to realize we couldn't sell her.  We had to share her. She's just something special." Share Jada is exactly what Noska does, through "Sail on Jada!" a promotion which offers the gorgeous 1938 boat for afternoons or evenings of gorgeous sailing complete with snacks, energetic commentary, and a lovely teak and oak interior up and down -- plus the Jada's beautiful interior is vintage design, lovingly restored. convenience of a bathroom should you need it. All this and smooth sailing -- she's built for comfort and glides easily through San Diego's waters. For Noska, it's a labor of love.  After sinking a hefty six figures into the boat's loving renovation, she couldn't part with her. (It would cost more than $2 million to recreate the Jada from ground up today.)  So the former marketer and public relations specialist  decided to try to do what she deeply loves -- and maybe make a bit of a living. "I won't be getting rich," she says, "but this is something that gives me great pleasure.  I love people and sharing this magnificent vessel. Everything about Jada is ship shape! During a decade at Salk Institute for Biological Studies, Noska honed her love of the ocean. She comes alive on the water.  "I love it. The ocean centers me," she says, offering a tray of tasty appetizers to a dozen relaxed tourists. "It would be a shame to not have people enjoy Jada along with me." Jada, a 65 foot Phillip Rhodes yawl, attracts waves and cheers and applause as she sails out of San Diego Bay under the guidance of capable captain and historian David Berg. With her vintage classic look and sleek transit of the seas, Jada is the stuff of postcards. Part of the pleasure of Jada is the ambiance and good will aboard. "She takes people back in time," says Noska. "We provide an afternoon that harkens to another time.  It's romantic, adventurous and people come back again and again." We spent a recent delightful afternoon on Jada, enjoying the commentary provided by Noska's longtime friend and collaborator who also captains the boat.  "He knows the city and the ocean like nobody's business." Indeed.  We learned about the Coronado Bridge and the habits of seals, architecture and sailing history, ethnic composition and when to spot whales, all offerred with intelligence and humor. Noska knows and loves San Diego and the ocean, too, and offers a pleasant complement to her collaborator. As the boat sails smoothly around San Diego, Noska visits with the passengers, giving her own  casual and insightful commentary.  Her presence is a delight -- she's part social director, part caterer, part tour guide.  These talents provide a relaxing backdrop for a three or four-hour sail, as guests mingle, relax on comfy cushions and let the wind spark the imagination.   Carole Noska plays tour guide photographer, first mate and caterer. Noska provides hors d'oeuvres, including cheeses, crackers, fruit and hummus, along with wine and beer, soft drinks, iced tea, juices, bottled water and more. Guests may bring picnics or special treats if they like, but goodies are included in the price, which varies depending on the outing. Noska stresses that she is not cultivating a "party-hearty" crowd; rather, she is courting civilized, interested sailing buffs and tourists looking for a fun, educational and refreshingly different option on the water. Towards the end of the sail, Noska displays her theatrical bent, bringing out a box of nautical hats including captains caps and piratical head gear.  Passing her hats around the crowd, like a roving minstrel, she encouraged us to indulge our fantasies about life on the water. Everyone took a hat and soon the boat sported a surplus of captains, pirates and first mates! Noska's grace, hospitality and memory (she knows everyone's name within the first 20 minutes on board) endear her to the clientele. She cultivates a faithful group of regulars and locals.  We met Argh! Cookie and Keller play pirate. several, including a married couple and two girlfriends, on our afternoon outing. Ages ranged from teens to seniors. "It has to be the most relaxing time we could spend on the water," said Cassie, who came on board Jada with her friend, Linda, for the fourth or fifth time. Jada has been used for birthday and anniversary parties, family reunions, team building meetings, casual working lunches, reward and incentive programs, whale watching and several memorable weddings. Jada has also hosted memorials and burials at sea, with families bringing their loved ones' ashes for a final communion with the sea the departed held dear. Like its owner, Jada is versatile -- name your event and Noska can creatively arrange it.  She is available for private and corporate charters and has a regular weekend schedule for tourists and short-notice bookings. An afternoon sail on vintage Jada is a fine way to spend San Diego time. Call 619 572-3443 or go to www.sailjada.com Noska is open to ideas and suggestions and will do her utmost to create your special afternoon or evening. So for a part of a day, at least, you'll have the feeling that you're on your own private yacht. Minus the payments, stress and responsibility of ownership. We'll be back for another sail. COMING UP : An energetic 92-year old lady is inspiring women one-third her age, dancing her way toward 100 -- with grace, spirit, humor and fitness.  Former Amazing grace:  Betty Lowe was a successful singer with the big bands years ago.  Today, at nearly 93, she attributes her fitness and energy to Jazzercise -- and more!  girl singer Betty Lowe, is still going strong.  Find out more about her and how the internationally known Jazzercise program has become a habit she can't and won't break. Coming next Wednesday. And in future weeks, take a look at Montana wildflowers, a bang-up Big Sky Fourth of July, San Diego's gliding port, the upcoming season at San Diego Repertory Theater and much more. As summer continues, we'll head north to Alaska, give advice on traveling with pets and offer tips on making the most of your precious time touring Europe. All on our Wednesday and Saturday posts at: www.whereiscookie.com

The bird is the word A noisy jay -- Mexican jay we think, but possibly scrub jay, is an acrobatic, enthusiastic regular at the San Diego feeder.  Both homes -- Montana and California -- host the faithful hummingbird in several varieties. Star-crossed lovers remain connected through feathered friends miles apart STORY By CHRISTENE MEYERS PHOTOS By BRUCE KELLER He regretted that he was not a bird, and could not be in two places at once. -- Sir Boyle Roche, 1743-1807  Finches frequent feeders in Montana as well as, here, San Diego! WHEN WE'RE apart for a few weeks during the summer, my partner Bruce Keller and I use birds as a conduit. They help keep us connected across the Rockies, from the mountains and prairies "to the oceans white with foam." He near the sea in San Diego and I in the rural northern Rockies compare notes on birdies. Sometimes, they're the same birds, which seems a miracle to us both. Do I mean the literal "same" birds?  Well, no, of course not, but taking into fantasy, I might say, "I sent you a red male finch to say hello." And he might report he's sending a  yacking jay or a nimble nuthatch to visit me. SO WHAT  if it is not the same bird visiting me one day and Keller the next.  It is reassuring that we both see the same bounty of beautiful birds in our two bird-welcoming digs. This downy woodpecker likes the telephone poles at High Chaparral. This one spends part of each afternoon pecking away in Montana. Our separate but equal feeders (easily a dozen or more) adorn a small town home patio in La Jolla and a 14-acre spread in the mountains of Stillwater County, Montana. THE SAN DIEGO  feeders hang on wrought iron fencing, in the middle of the city overlooking a pretty park at the patio's edge. The Beartooth feeders balance from fence posts and aspen trees, Scotch pines and chokecherries. They're "home on the range" feeders, while the San Diego ones are for city slicker birdies.  The little red house finches frequent feeders in both Montana and California. So do the little gold finches, several blue birds and jays, orioles and a host of sparrows.   Goldfinches are often seen by Keller and Cookie in both their native states, this one in California. SO WE LET the birdies connect us and they provide constant joy and entertainment whether we're in the same zip code or hundreds of miles apart. He calls me in Montana to see which feeders get which seeds.  "Put a couple cups of thistle in the tube.  Put the sunflower seeds in another one.  Put the mixed seed in the glass and nail up an occasional orange or apple to attract the birds that like fruit. Beware, though, to keep the area clean. the juice will attract ants." THROUGH THE CENTURIES,  poets have rhapsodized about birds -- perhaps as many lines as have been penned about the wonders of sun, stars and moon. From the Bible to Milton and Tennyson and Emily Dickinson, the bird is the word. "....And he shall rise up at the voice of the bird," Ecclesiastes. Christina Rossetti likened her heart to "a singing bird, whose nest is in a watered shoot" because she knew her love was coming visiting. Shakespeare's Juliet awakens with her Romeo "and yet no further than a wanton's bird/who lets it hop a little from her hand." This makes Romeo wish he were her bird, frolicking in his young lover's warm hand. Yet she fears if this were possible, she would harm him -- "kill thee with much cherishing". The rare sight of a a pair of eagles thrills, in Montana near High Chaparral.  And so it is with extreme beauty. It's almost heartbreakingly beautiful. We realize it is impermanent and will not last. We fear something will harm it. Even as the bird stops -- ever briefly -- at the feeder, we know and appreciate the brevity, such  beauty, as the poet Juvenal said nearly 2,000 years ago: " rare bird on this earth, like nothing so much as a black swan." IN MONTANA, the "black swan" would be a pelican. In our San Diego back yard, the ''black swan" would be a bald eagle. We have yet to spot an eagle there, although we have many majestic, swooping red tail hawks. Pelicans -- in San Diego, of course. We'd be thrilled to come upon  them in Montana, though! I have a proposal to make. I've never seen a pelican here in the Beartooths. So Keller, could you kindly send one over -- just for the afternoon? I promise to return him unharmed. And I'll do my best to manifest an eagle for you and send him to our San Diego back yard by the park. Perhaps I'll be lucky and produce a pair! Anything is possible in love and nature. Blooms in our San Diego yard attract birds, butterflies. COMING:  Flower power -- from the Rockies to the oceans, a bower of flowers comes your way. Plus European travel tips, gliders, summer theater, travel photo pointers, getting an out-of-state driver's license, sailing San Diego's beautiful bays, and much more.  We'll also share recent photos we took on a trip to Brazil, a hot spot in the news now. Remember to explore, learn and live! Check out our Wednesday and Saturday blogs at:                                                             www.whereiscookie.com

HORSE HAS BEEN AROUND LONGER THAN WE THOUGHT STORY By CHRISTENE MEYERS PHOTOS By BRUCE KELLER and JANE MILDER   This scene, of horses in pasture framed by the Crazy Mountains,   epitomizes the grandeur of Big Sky Country to many Montanans.  No horsing around. The horse goes back farther than we imagined.  So an homage seems in order.  With Fourth of July parades and the horse the star of the rodeo, we have new scientific information about his history.  But first, allow me some steed-steeped memories. MY CHILDHOOOD HORSE  was Peanuts.  He was 18 years old and three of us pre-schoolers could fit in the sway of his patient back.  He remains the favorite horse of many I've ridden since. There was Pedro delivering me safely down a rocky trail high above the sea, to the famed Leper Colony of Molokai. He was a mule, actually, so only half-horse.  And he was sure-footed, although he frightened me a number of times as rocks slipped under his sturdy shoes.  I heard one crash down to the ocean from our trail, carved against the jagged cliffs above the Pacific. Pedro didn't blink. THERE WAS FRANCO,   sleek on a  white sand beach in Italy.  He galloped when I had no interest -- a Roman holiday for sure but he was too frisky for me. I hit the sand. There was Jose, sweetly obedient on the Acapulco shore. Maggie took me for a Montana ride, packing into the Crazies.  She was an eater and got me in trouble with the guide.  A herd of wild horses looks to include several pregnant mares, caught in a pause of grazing and moving. Hank in the Tetons. Too frisky for this reporter. Seth on a Taos trail.  He chewed his way along just fine. "I want an old horse, close to the ground and slow. I don't care if he stops to munch grass," I always tell the guides and packers. "And let me be the last rider." San Diego's East County has a volunteer police posse in which riders, including Linda Slater and her horse Wendy help out in full regalia. Horses have plowed our fields, forged our trails, moved our cattle and hunted our outlaws.  Today, they still provide valuable services, in sheriff's volunteer groups and police posses. The horse has played a part in my life -- on and off the trail.  Even in the theater. For the horse has long fascinated poets and playwrights. Several of my favorite plays involve horses. At the top of the list is "Equus."  Horse inspired plays have won Tony awards and toured the world. Horses are the heart of the Kentucky Derby and I've visited the famed Lipizzaner Stallions on their home turf of Vienna.  Horses and riders share a unique bond.  Reverie and fitness are just two of the offshoots of the friendship. Horses have long been beloved by royals; Queen Elizabeth II has visited Wyoming friends to view their thoroughbreds. A driver takes his passengers around town square in the Canary Islands. FOR HORSE LOVERS  , there's news about the history of this gorgeous beast. The horse is even older than we've thought. By piecing together new genetic information, scientists have deciphered the complete genome of an extinct prehistoric horse that roamed the Yukon more than 700,000 years ago.  Analyzing a fossilized bone, scientists are rewriting the evolutionary history of the horse and smashing the previous record for the oldest complete genome ever sequenced. Do you hear that, Jose, Franco, Wendy, Maggie?  Your ancestors are making history! A horse tips his head to a sunny winter day near Luther, MT. In the new study, an international team of scientists led by Ludovic Orlando and Eske Willerslev at the University of Copenhagen used what’s become a common approach: comparing the DNA of  modern species to DNA recovered from fossil remains. Their study focuses on a frozen, fossil bone fragment found near Thistle Creek, Canada. By pushing DNA sequencing technology to its limits, they were able to rewind the evolutionary clock back further than ever before. So the next time you put your backside on a horse, show some respect. You're throwing your leg over millions of years of evolutionary history -- and a critter whose history goes back more than 700,000 years! COMING SATURDAY:  Flower Power to the people, as the year marks its half-way point. Future posts will circle the globe, giving tips on travel and taking memorable photos abroad.  We'll also celebrate the joys and trials of life with a handicapped child, explore a glider port, look at the moon and more. Enjoy the  Fourth of July and remember to explore, learn and live. We post each Wednesday and Saturday at: www.whereiscookie.com

The violet blossoms of the jacaranda trees are brilliant.   Imported from Mediterranean cities such as Barcelona, they number  in the thousands and are found in all neighborhoods of San Diego. STORY By CHRISTENE MEYERS PHOTOS By BRUCE KELLER THERE'S NO  more hopeful time of year than spring -- wherever on the planet you are. Whether you're strolling the streets of Rome, sailing San Diego Bay or planting the garden in Nye, Montana, spring is the time for optimism. Colors seem more vivid.  Scents seem more intense (here in the Beartooth Mountains, we just had a week of rain and the earth smells rich and loamy.  The wild roses and dogwood are blooming and the sage, peony and daisies are leafing out.) The long pre-solstice days mean light until nearly 10 p.m. in the northern Rockies! I'VE SPENT  spring in Texas hill country, wildflowers up to my  Kate Sessions Park in San Diego is loveliest in spring. middle.  I've spent spring exploring the ruins in Delos and sipping wine in Santorini, prowling the rain forest in northeast Australia (where spring comes during our autumn), and sailing the swells of the Irish sea with loved ones. Lately, I've gotten a pleasant upward tilt, staring with delight to admire the wild lavender blossoms of San Diego's signature jacarandas. Thousands of these trees were in their glory as I departed that lovely city. A picnic in Kate Sessions Park was a perfect afternoon's end. Filling the bird feeders is a spring ritual on the first day of Cookie's return to Montana. IN MONTANA , where I'm newly arrived to savor the most glorious time of year here, the hummingbirds were zipping about as I began arranging and fertilizing seven dozen bedding plants.  I spotted three varieties of this magnificent and ever-thirsty tiny bird: the rufus (largest and most aggressive), the ruby-throated (with its glorious crimson scarf) and the caliope (the smallest bird on the hemisphere). "I'll be right back," I told them. "Stick around." I took a quick trip inside to cook up a batch of nectar (four parts water, one part sugar, plus a dash more, boiled for four minutes). The hummers were buzzing about waiting for me when I returned with a fistful of feeders.  They literally followed me to the aspen tree where one of the feeders -- the most popular -- has hung for at least a decade. Filling these and a dozen bird feeders took a couple hours.  Already I have customers:  chickadees, finches and buntings so far.  "Cap'n Keller'' sails out of San Diego Bay. Spring came earlier in San Diego, and sailing was divine. Of course, spring is more dramatic in places like Montana, where winters can be long and harsh and the ground is often snow-covered for months. Spring is proof that winter is not  endless.   Rome's fruit and flower stands herald spring and lure shoppers. Now that we're settling back in to rural Montana life, we'll be inserting more posts about this neck of the woods. Whether you're sailing, planting, hiking, biking, jogging, touring or just plain savoring the season of rebirth, enjoy your spring and remember to explore, learn and live! COMING UP:  Future blogs will feature a sprightly 92-year old San Diego Jazzercise icon, former big band girl singer and a "rock star" inspiration to women 40, 50 and 60 years younger. How does she remain forever young, engaged and an encouraging role model to youth? (With still sexy legs!) A lifelong love of sailing took our explorers on the Jada recently. She's a jewel and you can enjoy her too thanks to an enterprising owner. And want to sail San Diego Bay in a vintage boat with personalized service, commentary and delicious food and beverage? Find out about the classic Jada here. We'll also explore San Diego's glider port, exotic birds and the new San Diego Repertory season. It's cutting edge. Plus we'll give advice on getting the most out of precious time in Europe. And we'll share tips on traveling with pets. We'll also walk you through the trials and triumphs  of getting a first-time driver's license in California!  All at "where is Cookie." Remember to explore, learn and live! Our posts appear Wednesdays and Saturdays at www.whereiscookie.com

Bruce Keller and his mother, Jean Keller, board a harbor cruise at Oceanside, where Jean taught Keller to paint as a lad. STORY By CHRISTENE MEYERS RECENT PHOTOS By BRUCE KELLER, and CM It's always a bit melancholy in our home on the second Sunday in May. Both Keller and I are orphans now.  We remember lavish brunches, parties, cruises, corsages and other merriment when we think of our mums.  We had similar celebrations, albeit thousands of miles and several states apart.  Both of us fussed over our mothers.   Our two mums never met, but if they had, we think they'd have been friends. Keller's mother, Jean, was a talented watercolor painter with a snappy sense of dress and style. She painted into her 90s and loved colorful scarves. She always had a bouquet in the home. The writer, Christene, with her mother, Ellen Cosgriffe, during a Thanksgiving  celebration in Davis, Calif. My mum, Ellen, was a gifted musician and singer who owned a steamer trunk of beautiful shoes and loved hats. My mother was drum major in college and played violin in the university orchestra. She and I played piano duets even on her last trip to my Beartooth Mountains Montana place. She, too, loved posies. Keller's mother pursued a promising art career at University of Minnesota, and left in her senior year to be an artist in Hollywood.  She told her family she was going on spring break, but returned from southern California only on holidays. She gave Keller his sense of adventure. My mother had wanderlust, too, planning trips to Europe and touring Montana and Wyoming as a high schooler, playing dances with the Nystul Family Orchestra in World War II days. Her $5 fee per gig fed her shoe fund. She planned our family's ambitious six-week trip to New York and New England in 1964, complete with 19 pieces of baggage and trains, boats, cars and planes, Broadway plays, Yankee games, Monticello, Plymouth and the World's Fair. Both mums were funny women. Quick with one-liners. When I met Jean near the end of her life, she was in an assisted living complex.  As we were helping her out the door for a harbor brunch cruise, she told me, "You're not the first woman he's brought to see  me.  But you're definitely the most interesting." A few months later, when Alzheimer's altered her memory, she was looking through vintage albums with Keller and came across a photo of Keller's dad Bill. "That's your father," Jean offered. "He was a handsome man, but I don't believe we ever met!" Baby Cookie and her parents. My mother liked to say that her mother wasn't a big fan of sex.  "Close your eyes and think of something pleasant," mum quoted gran. "But she must have had sex twice," mum demurred, "or you wouldn't have a mother or your Uncle Bob." My mum taught me the actor's good luck line:  "break a leg." Keller's mother taught him "forgive and forget" and "don't go backwards." Both liked dancing and gardening.  Both were inventive cooks, who didn't need the luxury of a recipe.  Memories of Jean's lemon pie make Keller misty-eyed. Or picking bags of pomegranates with her, steadying the ladder as she reached for the fruit. My mother's specialty was Sunday brunch for each birthday, with a buffet of pineapple, ham, biscuits and Hawaiian punch. Both loved us dearly. So their legacy lingers as we remember what they taught us this weekend.   Baby Keller and his mum and dad. My mother taught me to tap dance and play piano.  We practiced comedy routines in the bathroom and she helped me draft my first essay, "How to Eat a Daisy," which I delivered in the best deadpan I could muster to the delight of my fifth-grade class.  When I bowed to accept the applause, I experienced a Julia Child-like sense of breathless elation. Thanks, mum. Her high school principal told me that she became valedictorian "by her astounding brain power.  It wasn't by studying or going to school because she missed class half the time and still aced every test." Mum would rather play piano, write poetry, sketch or listen to Bizet. Keller's mother pulled him from school for day trips to the sea in Oceanside near their family home.  That's where she loved to paint and she set an easel for little Keller, teaching him colors and shapes, and an abiding wonder at nature.  He swam in the ocean, brought her shells, shared her picnic and learned from Jean the painterly sense that marks his fine photography.  It is evident in his beautiful photos, always framed with his sharp eye. And he knows every seashell, sea plant and amphibian. Thanks to Jean for fanning those fires.   Ellen enjoys a cuddle with Nora, just out of a bath. The relationship with one's mother is one of life's most complex.  Everything wasn't always roses in our family. Nor for Keller and his parents. Like many households of the 1950s, both of ours  experienced alcohol abuse. Both my parents struggled with alcohol and daddy was not always faithful, leading to divorce when I was 17. (Both were, happily for all, clean and sober for many decades.)   But as a child, little Cookie became her mother's  "little helper." I was 10 when the wheels came off the van, and the next years were tough for the family. Thank heavens for having gran next door.  Looking back, I figure that all the turmoil short-changed my childhood.  But it also made me strong and generous of heart, empathetic to others, capable and self-assured. Mum, brilliant mum, emerged from her darkness, returned to college, finished a couple degrees, learned Spanish, forged a career in counseling and became my pal. Remarkably, she and my father remained lifelong friends and mum became my father's caretaker when he contracted Alzheimer's -- even though they had been long been divorced. Keller's parents, Bill and Jean, on an outing in the post-war 1940s. After daddy's death, mum often visited my country place in the Beartooths of Montana, and we spent long weekends at High Chaparral listening to Broadway musicals, talking about family, watching birds, reading, fixing lovely meals (no recipes!) doting on the Yorkies.  I regret that Keller and mum never met -- she died the year we started dating. An only child, Keller dearly desired a baby brother or sister.  When he asked his parents if he could please have a sibbling, he was around age 10, my critical time, too. He was told "no way, it's not going to happen." Keller's parents had begun to argue -- his dad, too, had an alcohol problem.  So Keller left home between high school and college, removing himself from the conflict.  When he journeyed to the Middle East to work on the Red Sea for several years, he pursued his travel and aquatic interests. When he returned to finish college, he reconnected with his parents and after his father passed away, he became his mother's treasured friend and visited her weekly in Oceanside. On Sunday drives, they drove to the harbor of Cookie and Jean board a harbor cruise at Oceanside, with Keller's son, Branden, and his girlfriend Karie. Keller's youth, where Jean taught him to paint and explore the shore. He misses those Sunday drives, their day trips to the harbor they both loved, their suppers in the fish place or her favorite Chinese restaurant. At the harbor, Keller would bring pictures she'd painted 50 years earlier, and those evoked memories and stories. Memory is what keeps our loved ones alive. Love is the link between life and death. So here's to our mothers. Their mothers (that's another story!). Your mother. Mothers  everywhere. If you've lost touch, it's not too late to rekindle the friendship. If you're an orphan like we are, honor the good things your mother did for you. If you're lucky enough to still have your mother, do something fun for her.  I am thankful to have traveled to Europe several times with mum, seeing the world she introduced me to with the wonders of theater, restaurants and museums. I'll treasure to my own urn the knowledge that mum had a happy marriage -- for a while -- that she and daddy loved one another then came full circle late in life.  Keller believes his parents had good years, turmoil then stabilization. They were married nearly 50 years. Cookie's parents, Ellen and Richard, had many happy times. I think of our mothers' love of travel, passed on to us me. I see my mum smiling in the entrance of the Paris Opera House, climbing the steps to the Louvre, sailing under London Bridge. Sitting to the captain's left on a world cruise!  Keller's full circle with his mother was completed on the same beach where she taught him to paint. Lucky, lucky, us. I picture our two spirited mums sitting around a coffee table or in a bird-bedecked garden, gossiping about books or politics, planning a cruise together, singing '40s tunes, or hitting the casino for a little blackjack.  Maybe they'd take in a Broadway play.  Break a leg! COMING WEDNESDAY : San Diego hosts its second chocolate fest on the harbor in the Berkeley ferry.  We learn about the delectable concoction and its history, sample a few chocolate treats and prepare to sail on the historic Californian -- complete with cannon boom! www.whereiscookie.com ,  and remember to explore, learn and live. Enter our contest to win an autographed poetry book at

Cookie and Nora sit by Tony Bennett's vibrant heart which is on display in San Francisco's Union Square. The famed jazz singer is also an accomplished painter, best known vocally for his tribute to San Francisco. TONY BENNETT'S MOODY HEART ART IS AHIGHLIGHT OF UNION SQUARE STROLL STORY By CHRISTENE MEYERS PHOTOS By BRUCE KELLER IF YOU'RE  strolling downtown San Francisco, you can't miss Union Square, that unique, bustling center of the city. Tourists relax and listen to the buskers. In our several-day visit, we enjoyed a student choral group from Oregon, a local bagpiper, a jazz guitarist, an aging but capable operatic soprano, and a young flutist playing Mozart. Pretty eateries and bistros welcome tourists and native sons to enjoy a snack or beverage in the spring sun, to read a good book, or just meditate and savor. Well behaved dogs are welcome and Nick and Nora relished the attention they received from passers-by. FRAMING  the historic square are four artful hearts beckoning visitors to come in, relax, enjoy, leave a bit of their own hearts. That's easy! The hearts are installed as tribute to San Francisco's magical effect on folks. They permanently surround the square, each heart artfully rendered by a well established artist. This dapper elder enjoys his book in Union Square complete with gloves and hat. One of the heart creators is singer and accomplished painter Tony Bennett.  The delight of discovering Bennett's very own painted heart was the first of many surprises on our return trip to a favorite place. Bennett left his art heart on the Northwest corner of Union Square. The famed crooner, also a noted painter, crafted the vibrant red heart to symbolize his love of the town that helped cement his fame and icon status. Bennett's piece features the Golden Gate Bridge and hills of Marin County, symbolizing his abiding affection for the city which inspired his most famous song: "I Left my Heart in San Francisco.'' BENNETT'S  heart art is one of San Francisco's many attractions in this beloved and beautiful town, one of America's great cities. San Francisco embodies the elements of a great city: food, fun, history, ethnic mix, landscape, architecture, global connection, performing arts and, the shining star, the sea! Among the myriad other surprises and delights sampled on a recent trip: The Hornblower dinner cruise offers a relaxing diversion and gorgeous sights. *A Hornblower cruise on the waters of the city by the bay. Hornblower has never failed us in cruises in San Diego, New York City, Long Beach and Old Sacramento.  The leisurely three-hour dinner cruise was a romantic celebration for us, since Keller lived in San Francisco for two years and I've spent dozens of weekends there through the years. We hit all the high spots as the sun set -- views of both the Bay Bridge and Golden Gate, the city's remarkable skyline and dance music by a delightful duo who played everything from swing to jazz and Latin. The food, particularly the scallop appetizer, was quality and we enjoyed the strolls on deck during the leisurely sight-see.   www.hornblower.com San Francisco is one of the world'great "foodie" towns. *Delightful meals in the ethnic medley that composes San Francisco's food-loving character.  Among new discoveries is Colibri, a Mexican and Latin bistro, which we discovered on a quiet Monday night, looking for something near our base, the Diva Hotel. It's right  next door on 438 Geary, and the tasty churros and delightful house margarita will make it a regular stop-off for us. We happened upon this sophisticated eatery by chance on Monday, when fabulous live Latin music caught our ear. You can take out, too. www.colibrimexicanbistro. We also sipped a half-dozen cups of perfect cappuccino in San Francisco, where the drink is an art form. *We loved climbing up a "hidden stairway" to the top of the hill on which Coit Tower sits. Thanks to  If you've never hiked up the hill to Coit Tower, give it a try! a thoughtful trolley driver, who gave us instructions, we strolled from the ferry building and found a little sign, then continued up more than a mile past peoples' back yards and through thickets of trees. Wow. Gorgeous view when we finally made it. Then we continued on our journey, determined to walk "home" to the Diva. www.personalityhotels.com *Our four-day gambol took us from downtown and the Diva, to the lovely Grace Cathedral, to Fisherman's Wharf for fish and chips, to Ghiradelli Square for chocolate, through the bustling Financial District, to Union Street for shopping and dining, to the Palace of Fine Arts and Alamo Square. We walked, took the bus, a couple taxis and the cable cars. We love the clang of the car bells -- rides are $6.50 now. Although we were tired one afternoon, we  took Coffee is an art form in San Francisco.  a walk through Chinatown for green tea, herbs and vitamins.  On our last day, it was back to the ferry building and port, the hike to Coit Tower, a stop at the Intercontinental Mark Hopkins and Nob Hill, and back to the Diva (thankfully downhill the last few blocks.) We even hit AT&T Park, home of the famous Giants! *We played tourist one afternoon on Big Bus Tours, choosing it from the competition because it is dog friendly.  This was another pleasant surprise.  With Nick and Nora in tow, we took the top deck on the "just like London" double-decker buses, traversed the town from the Embarcadero and Fisherman's Wharf to Symphony Hall and the Opera House and nearby Fulton Street, past the government buildings to the "painted lady" Colorful homes of San Francisco attract attention from the bus! Victorians, through the Haight and Ashbury area with the nightclubs that featured young Jimmy Hendricks and Janis Joplin, through Golden Gate Park and past the lovely Japanese Tea Gardens and DeYoung Museum, and on out across the Golden Gate Bridge to savor its vistas.  Crossing Golden Gate in the wind of the double decker was a breezy trip! Our guide, Morgan, and driver, Joann, were knowledgeable, amiable and accommodating.  Morgan knows and loves San Francisco and his commentary brimmed with anecdotes and recommendations.  Both were apologetic when our bus broke down four stops from the end of the circle and they promised another tour if we returned!   www.opentopsightseeingsf A happy Keller bids farewell to San Francisco by the Bay Bridge. *Our home away from home, though, was Hotel Diva, with nearby Union Square our daily foray. We strolled to and through the square every day of our four-day downtown visit, admiring the art hearts and the many people of diverse cultures, backgrounds and ages, all enjoying the beauty and spirit of this magnificent, friendly city. OUR CONTEST  continues: win an autographed, first edition poetry book by Bruce Kemp Meyers if your suggestion for a travel topic is chosen. And look for a column featuring trips on taking travel photos.  Sign up to receive postings for www.whereiscookie.com  and make your suggestion. We post Wednesdays and Saturday.  This weekend's column is our ode to our two mums, Ellen Cosgriffe and Jean Keller, and a salute to Mother's Day. Remember to explore, learn and live!

Behind bars: Keller tours prison. Story By CHRISTENE MEYERS Photos By BRUCE KELLER Who knew that Burt Lancaster's "Bird Man" character never tended his feathered friends on Alcatraz? That's the stuff of movies.  The famous, Oscar winning performance by the great actor told the story of Robert Stroud who actually tended his birds at Leavenworth, not on a remote island off the picturesque city of San Francisco.  An eccentric, not particularly pleasant man (according to our guides), Stroud had murdered a man before he was transferred to Alcatraz in 1942.  Apparently his hobby was getting out of control.  He was never allowed to pursue his passion in California. Ah, that's the stuff of movies, though. The island of Alcatraz lives on as thousands learn history of its tenure as a prison  and now a bird sanctuary, home to gorgeous iris and many other blooms with stunning views of San Francisco. Inmates could view the city, a symbol of the pleasures they could not have as prisoners. Because "The Bird Man of Alcatraz" had a catchy sound, that became the movie's title, despite the fact that Stroud was never allowed to tend birds on the island. That film, though, continues to draw folks to the beauty, solitude and history of this little island a mile from San Francisco. The prison's water tower still sports writing from the Indian take-over of 1969 which lasted 19 months. We recently played tourist to take it all in. Besides the "Bird Man" trivia, here are a few "did you know" tidbits we discovered on our pleasant day there: *The island's history goes back to native people, but record keeping shows it was purchased by California from Mexico in 1847.  Its prison status dates to the Civil War when 11 soldiers arrived. Soldiers convicted of desertion, theft, assault, rape and murder were also sent to Alcatraz, along with the crew of a Confederate ship. Sadly, Alcatraz was also a place of incarceration for Hopi, Apache and Modoc Indians captured during the Indian wars, and military convicts were sent there during the Spanish-American War. The warden's family lived in this large home which is kept for touring. *The Alcatraz of more recent times came about after the 1930s Great Depression when the government was looking for a high-profile, maximum-security facility. Al Capone did time there, from 1934 to 1938.  He was transferred to a medical prison facility after a few fist fights with other inmates. Eight prisoners were murdered by other inmates and five committed suicide. *Alcatraz inmates numbered a total of 1,545.  Besides Capone and "Birdman," a few other notorious fellas did time there:  Doc Barker, Machine Gun Kelly and Creepy Karpis for three. The island was a federal penitentiary for 29 years during which time 36 prisoners tried to escape.  All but five were I nmates and families worked together to landscape Alcatraz. Now thousands of tourists enjoy. recaptured.  Three were unaccounted for and may have survived. Their June 1962 escape was immortalized in the movie, "Escape from Alcatraz" with Clint Eastwood. *An average of 260 bad guys were housed in the four cell blocks, with a high of 320 prisoners. Unruly inmates were sent to D block, whose 42 cells were known as the Isolation Unit. We toured the entire complex and heard many stories! *Some of the correctional officers and their families stayed on the island. The warden and his wife and family lived in a large house near the prison building and never locked their doors! Some of the families grew lovely gardens which are still kept up today.  A few of the prisoners had green thumbs, too, and were allowed to contribute to the beautification. There were no women prisoners or guards. *Besides the famous films, Alcatraz came to the public eye through the 1969-70 occupation by activists. A small group landed on the island the claimed it in the name of  "Indians of All Tribes."  The occupation followed, lasted 19 months. Interestingly, the National Park Service has kept some of the signs and banners up, dutifully noting the occupation and its symbolism. Birds are protected on Alcatraz and have no natural predators. Here a pair of gulls appear to be mating. *The gardens and birds of Alcatraz fascinated us as much as the guard towers and escape lore. We saw hundreds of birds, including mating gull and heron, cormorants, hawks and hummingbirds. Tide pools are home to crabs, sea stars and other marine animals. *Alcatraz can be enjoyed at your leisure with many ferry departures and returns nearly each day. It's part of  the Golden Gate National Parks Conservancy. You'll take a short, pretty ferry ride from Pier 33 Alcatraz Landing. The ticket includes a well done audio tour, lectures and plenty of friendly guides to answer questions. www.alcatrazcruises.com   415 981-7625. COMING SATURDAY: A contest! Sign up for our blog at www.whereiscookie.com and make a comment, including your suggestion for a future travel column. We'll give a first-edition autographed book of poems by the late poet Bruce Kemp Meyers to the winning suggestion.  And we continue our exploration of the great city of San Diego with a look at the hip pleasures of Hotel Diva, Union Square, a little known hike to Coit Tower and a Hornblower cruise. The hotel's hip art, location in downtown San Francisco, amenities, friendly staff and dog-welcoming service make it an appealing hotel for Keller, Cookie and yorkies Nick and Nora. So our exploration of one of the world's great cities continues, complete with the painted heart left in San Francisco by singer Tony Bennett.  Remember to explore, learn and live, at whereiscookie.com And sign up for posts, recommend a travel topic or destination and win an autographed first edition book by an award-winning poet!

STORY By CHRISTENE MEYERS PHOTOS By BRUCE KELLER Sailing on the Californian is as close as I'll get to "going down to the sea in ships." Fortunately, we went "down" in the best sense of the word:  out into the Pacific Ocean and safely back. For this sailor -- with hundreds of hours on small sailing vessels and nearly 100 large-ship cruises -- the pride of San Diego's Maritime Museum feels like the real sailing deal. Getting the sails ready then putting them back after the sail is not for cowards or those afraid of heights! This beautiful 145-foot long vessel is the state's official tall ship and she was the jewel in our crown of a glittery day of touring the Maritime Museum.  The 1984 ship is built in the style of the famous cutters which patrolled California's coast during the 1849 era gold rush. My sailor beau, child of the sea since birth, encouraged the Californian's adventure sail, a four-hour journey aboard the ship he's admired since it was built. I'd not expected to be so thoroughly entertained, but the location is a lure I couldn't resist.  Moored along the waterfront on the Embarcadero, it is one of the delights of the venue. The museum  sports more than a dozen boats and ships, a nicely researched and well curated array of nautical paraphernalia in a traditional indoor museum, and plenty of action outdoors as "pirates" stroll and repairmen do their endless work.  Cookie found the submarine claustrophobic . Among the treats and surprises:  a vintage upright piano, lovingly cared for and donated by a local family who documented its seafaring background aboard a ferry. We enjoyed a chocolate festival aboard the gorgeous ferryboat Berkeley, toured the Dolphin submarine (interesting for its design but too claustrophobic for this reporter), watched repairmen working on the tall ship Star of India, and the HMS Surprise, which has starred in several films, including "Pirates of the Caribbean." A motley but enthusiastic group of us -- writers, teachers, builders, students and seafaring tourists -- spent a couple hours at the other ships of the museum before boarding the one that actually took us out on the water.Then it was onto the Californian and out into the bay to help hoist the sails and sail the ocean blue.  Despite a bit of rain and the wind -- sailors love wind -- the sun shone enough to take the chill off the day, and the mostly volunteer crew did yeoman's job of entertaining us with trivia about sailor's food, gear, health and hygiene, the workings and responsibilities on ship. Of the ship's six massive sails (more than 7,000 square feet of canvas!), the unusual square sail was  Keller's favorite.  The launching, sailing and retrieving it -- watching all the work that goes into it -- thrilled him.  It took a half-dozen people to get her going -- two climbed up the rope ladder to the yard arm to undo her sheets.  And after our journey was over,  The ship's cannons were blasted to welcome us back to shore! Nothing is boring aboard the Californian. four limber crew climbed up and helped tie her back. Not for sissies or victims of vertigo!  Adjusting her sails along the route took many people on both sides of the ship.  Sailing, and doing it right, is a labor intensive process. And safety is a concern, so our captain reminded us of where to stand and sit, lest we feel the wrath of the proverbial "boom." No injuries, no accidents, terrific fresh air! Keller was delighted to help keep the Californian sailing, since he has sailed for all his life and loves it! Most of the passengers were enthusiastic about helping, under the watchful eye of adept volunteers.  And when we returned to the harbor, we had the excitement of hearing and watching two of our cannons salute the shore and congratulate us on our safe return. The sound will shiver your timbers! The Californian, as a "newer, old style ship,"  is 140 tons, created in the style of her ancestors.  But whether actually vintage or not, the maintenance of the museum's vessels and keeping them all in good repair is a challenge akin to the endless painting of San Francisco's Golden Gate Bridge.  The work is never done.  Moisture, salt, attrition and wear and tear create dust, rust and decay so the wood and metal are constantly being polished, scraped, shored up. One of the mates, Katharine, describes shipboard life as it might have been a couple centuries ago.   The Californian is available for charters and school sails.  She even goes to the Channel Islands, including Catalina Islan for a kayaking adventure. Others of the ships are able to be rented for special events.  The Berkeley, Star of India, Surprise and Californian all are available at various rates. The museum is sponsoring Pirate Days this weekend, two days of kid-friendly, fun filled events this Saturday and Sunday on San Diego Bay.  On tap are carnival games, re-enactors, giveaways and prizes, scavenger hunts and pirates of course. Ahoy, maties. Enjoy. And remember to explore, learn and live! More at www.sdmaritime.org or call 619 234-9153. COMING WEDNESDAY : San Diego is gearing up for a fabulous festival -- its 20th -- of Jewish history and culture, with plays, art, food and music centered around the Lyceum Theater! And the swinging Manhattan Transfer is still going strong, recording an album a year for 40 years, and delighting our audience at a recent Balboa Theatre performance, part of their current tour. What keeps this tightly knit quartet running and going strong?  A fabulous pianist is part of the answer. The group's enormous talent shines through, as individual singers and ensemble participants. www.whereiscookie.com publishes Wednesdays and Saturdays.