Every time I talk to friends they tell me, ‘oh you should write that down!’ and I think, why? It’s funny in the moment of oral storytelling but would that translate to the written word? I’ve decided to find out. Every so often I am going to digress from writing, and share a story. Let me know if you find this a stupid idea.

Back in the 1970’s we were madly in love with the Bay City Rollers, a pop band from Scotland. Last week while driving one of their songs played. I was instantly grinning and happy and started telling my patient teenage son stories.

The Bay City Roller conventions in Seattle where we would bum rides from parents or take the bus into the city, gather at the Seattle Center with lots of other crazy teen girls, and immerse ourselves in Roller fandom. We wore the required uniform of short pants with tartan trim and striped socks, and carried long tartan scarves with the name of our favorite Roller on it. We formed huge human pyramids for some reason. We trekked to Pike Place Market, clutching our dollar bills to buy black and white photographs. We came home blissed out.

The hundreds of letters we mailed out. Keep in mind this was before the internet, social platforms, and cell phones. We had pen pals. Not only did we write letters we highly decorated the envelopes. Stickers of our favorite Roller, labels of the same, with lines of songs or poems. Stamps that we put on upside down, and then wrote, around the stamp, ‘Roller fans stompin’ round, put their stamps on upside down’. Must have driven the post offices crazy trying to find the addresses.

Then there was The Trip, still talked about stridently, by my brother. A camping trip back to Montana, where us kids rode in the camper (allowed at the time). My sister and I were riding high because the Rollers were coming fora  concert. We had their new release ‘You Made Me Believe in Magic’ on a cassette tape that we had recorded off the radio station. During hours and hours of driving time, we played that one song over and over, while my brother suffered. And threatened to throw the recorder out the back. And then threatened to throw us out the back.

And of course the concert itself, arriving outside the Paramount theater in the wee hours of the morning, standing in line all day, and then standing on the arms of the chairs inside, during the concert, absolutely convinced that your Roller looked right at you and your madly waving scarf.

My son said it sounded like Justin Bieber and girls right now. Who? I told my son that it wasn’t the song making me smile, it was all the memories associated with it. Those giggly days of making new friends and innocent fun. Well, innocent for the most part. Slumber parties and posters on the wall.

About half an hour later a song came on that made my son laugh. It reminded him of when he was little and seriously believed he had super hero powers. I told him he’d just had a Bay City Roller moment.

I think every generation has females out there who can point to similar moments, and who still smile when a certain song plays.

Many years ago, I decided to travel to Scotland with a  friend. We had never even traveled to the big city of Seattle by ourselves, let alone a foreign country. But away we blithely went, with $500 in our pockets, for six weeks. The best advice I got prior to the trip was the reminder that everything that goes wrong just makes for a good story later.

That advice has come in handy many times over the years. When I’m in the middle of some drama, whether it’s traveling or simply broke down on the side of the highway, those words allow me to take a deep breath and find some humor in the situation. Granted, most times the humor isn’t found until days later when I’m retelling the story. Then the writer in me comes out.

But really, this time, my brother and his wife are testing that advice to its fullest. His boss gave them a cruise trip. All they had to do was pay the taxes. On a limited budget like all of us, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. They left last week. And now they are going to come home with a whopping story.

While on a walking tour in Italy, my sister-in-law fell and broke her hip. She’s healthy so this was quite a fall. And it appears the cruise ship then sailed away without them, without noticing that they had not come back with the tour. Today my sister-in-law had surgery for a full hip replacement, in Italy. They have another week to stay there (neither speak Italian), and then will be sent home. The cruise ship, thankfully, has agreed to pay for everything.

I think this tops any traveling tale I could come up with. These are the kinds of stories people tell all around us, from daily irritations to huge problems like having to stay behind in Italy for an extra week. And I have to admit, these are the things I take notes on. Bits and pieces that may show up in a story somewhere down the road. I’m going to have to thank my sister-in-law for giving me story fodder. Wonder what she’ll say.

This has nothing to do with writing other than it’s a story so hopefully you won’t mind.

Five days ago a resident of the tiny town I live near was out hiking with his dog. Some people from ‘down below’ showed up to target shoot in an area locals hike. The shooting terrified the dog, who bolted for the woods.

He’s been missing through four nights of freezing temperatures, with some snow still on the ground, and we live in an area with a lot of predators. You can imagine, if you are a dog owner, the sleepless nights these people have had. But being in a small town, everyone got involved. Locals decided it was a good time of year to go hiking. People not only hiked, they bushwhacked off trail. One group thought it was a great time for a full-moon hike in the woods. Many of us were calling out day and night. Where I live is mid-point between where the dog disappeared and town, so I spent a lot of time seeking. Of course signs were posted, animal shelters called, etc. But really, this is the story of community.

A few years ago my son’s dog ended up stranded on ‘the Wall’ which is a sheer granite wall famous for rock climbing. She was stuck on a boulder and my son couldn’t get to her and by the time he got home for help, it was dark and pouring rain. Again, locals jumped to the rescue and at five in the morning rock climbers and friends found her still waiting patiently for rescue on her rock. If you go to the ‘About’ tab you’ll see some photos of the area these dogs were lost in.

Two years ago we were startled one day when hiking to find an injured, terrified dog in the woods. She was too scared to come near us, and locals named her ‘Cedar’ since she was hiding in cedar trees. For a few weeks that hot summer, several of us hiked food and water to the dog twice a day (she was too canny for a live trap) until she grew brave enough to limp out one day and follow me down the logging road. She had been neglected before this adventure, and had a broken leg when she finally was rescued. She ended up in a good home, by the way.

So, back to the first dog. This morning, he found his way out of the woods. Very sorry for himself, very exhausted, beautiful fur dirty. And smelling a bit fishy, which none of us will complain about because it was probably the dead salmon in the creek that helped him survive. There was a happy ending here, with the dog managing to rescue himself. (By the way, I know some of you will be thinking about the dangers of dogs eating dead salmon. But in this case, I believe it was a matter of survival so yes, I’m sure he’ll be watched for parasites from the fish.)

But, what really warms my heart is that I think it’s unusual to find people who pull together like this to help not just animals, but each other. I’ve just mentioned animal stories, but there are many more where people here have jumped in to help others, too.

Sure there are disadvantages to little towns (gossip comes quickly to mind) but in the end, I think this is a community rare and fine.