"Equilibrium Goes Pretty Beige" Ep. 20.

Episode 20, Celebrating AZ

Julie escorts us across state lines to a vacation spot in California, then Lisa introduces us to a state treasure in the form of a person with incredible stories.

Mug: Constellations

From Notes for “Before I Forget: Carolyn Warner” copyright Carolyn Warner, 2016

by LIsa Schnebly Heidinger

“One of Carolyn’s best friends was Erma Bombeck, the beloved humorist.  Carolyn recalled that Erma and her husband Bill were equally passionate in their admiration of Paul Newman. 

Once Erma stopped at the Baskin Robbins 31 Flavors on Indian School for ice cream.  As she turned to leave, Paul Newman walked in.  Erma was so shocked she left, then sat in the car weighing what to say. She had to go back in. But which immortal film line mattered the most?  What was most important? For a woman who used words for a living, she was quite without any.

Still not knowing what she would say but knowing she would forever regret not saying something, she walked back into the ice cream store. He’d finished an was coming out.  She stopped in front of him, stone silent.  He smiled and spoke:“If you’re wondering where your ice cream cone is…you put it in your purse.”

She thanked him and watched him leave.

At Low Tide

 by Julie Morrison

Everyone loves a high—

the build, surge, crash—

the carry—buoyancy

of a place and a pulse

above the roiling churn.

We’ll paddle through

toss and pound—

breakers—

then wait,

watching the horizon

for a rise, rush to ride

until, spent,

we beach, exhausted,

nothing left

to race the margins

of forward, float, and fall.

In recessions—

when only negatives compound—

each crest is a little lower

than the last,

drawing closer

to the ache of exposure—

a state of silt and pebble—

things too small

to carry more than shadows.

And yet,

there are treasures

in pooling stillness.

Tiny, tentacled,

tentative touches

of the sweet and wobbly

who cling to the undersides

in big surf,

smiling up from the shallows,

as darling children,

hoping it’s their turn

to be picked up,

held.  

Copyright 2025 Julie Morrison, All rights reserved