• In this Story... with Joanne Greene

  • 著者： Joanne Greene
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In this Story... with Joanne Greene

著者： Joanne Greene
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  • Joanne Greene shares her flash nonfiction, each essay with custom music, showcasing tales and observations from her animated life. Her book, "By Accident: A Memoir of Letting Go" is now available as a paperback, e-book, and audiobook from Amazon, Audible, Barnes & Noble, and your local independent book seller.
    GreeneCreative
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Joanne Greene shares her flash nonfiction, each essay with custom music, showcasing tales and observations from her animated life. Her book, "By Accident: A Memoir of Letting Go" is now available as a paperback, e-book, and audiobook from Amazon, Audible, Barnes & Noble, and your local independent book seller.
GreeneCreative
社会科学
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  • Escaping Flames

    Escaping Flames
    2025/03/21
    In this story, I escape some flames. I’m Joanne Greene.
    It was 1979 in San Francisco, and I was flying high as a news anchor at the legendary FM radio station, K-S-A-N, affectionately called KSAN. I was in love with Fred Greene, morning show producer and part time jock, and my career was the envy of aspiring radio journalists. Metromedia, KSAN’s parent company, had brought in a new General Manager from Los Angeles to “right the ship.” He’d successfully turned big profits at KMET in LA and the suits in NY thought his approach would work in SF. However then, as now, LA and SF are very different beasts.
    It took one, maybe two, officious memos from the new GM, for the staff to start revolting, some more dramatically than others. On one particular day Thom O’Hair, longtime San Francisco air personality, had taken a tab or two of acid. He and my news partner Chris Stanley were on a tear about the new GM whom they’d renamed from L. David Morehead to El Nuclear Warhead. Taking their loud protestation outside the station, they quickly found themselves pounding shots at the Financial Corner, the bar on the next block.
    The combination of LSD and alcohol wasn’t new to O’Hair, but I was concerned that the results would be unpredictable at best, particularly since I was to anchor the news in his afternoon air-shift. They returned from the bar at 2:55 and Tom went directly into the studio to cue up his first record. As I walked into the studio to deliver the 3pm newscast, I saw something different in O’Hair’s eyes. He’d often displayed a mischievous glint, but this was something else - something maniacal, diabolical. Oh no. What’s he going to do? I held my breath, and my stack of papers. Would he turn on my microphone and let me do the newscast? Would I be able to do my job and leave the studio without incident? Instead, as the song was ending and I was gathering my stack of notes and miscellaneous wire copy from which I would tell rather than read the news as was our signature KSAN style, O’Hair grabbed my papers, flipped a Bic lighter which he pulled out of nowhere, it seemed, and set my news copy on fire.
    Oh. My. God. I was holding a torch. News flambe. My eyes doubled in size as my jaw dropped in shock. In a nanosecond, I started blowing and by some stroke of luck, I apparently had enough air in my lungs to turn my news copy into charred ashes just as the record ended. Tom opened my microphone and walked out of the studio chuckling. Somehow, somewhere, I found my voice.
    “It’s 3 o’clock and this is KSAN, San Francisco,” I heard myself say. And then I went on to ad lib a newscast. It wasn’t pretty, but I made it out of the studio five minutes later with a shred of dignity, a healthy dose of anger, and the knowledge that, like my ancestors fleeing persecution in Europe, I was a survivor.



    Joanne’s book, “By Accident: A Memoir of Letting Go” is now available from your favorite online book seller. Stay tuned to hear if Joanne will be speaking at a bookstore near you. If you’re interested in having her come to your local bookstore, contact her directly at joannergreene@gmail.com or get updates on her website at joanne-greene.com and make sure to sign up for her newsletter!
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    5 分
  • What to Take When Forced to Evacuate

    What to Take When Forced to Evacuate
    2025/03/07
    In October of 1991, we lived in the Oakland Hills…the area in which the tunnel fire, also known as the Oakland Firestorm, killed 25 people, injured 150 others, and devoured 2,843 single-family dwellings and 437 apartments. Thankfully, our home was unharmed but the same could not be said for many of our friends. Before the fire was controlled, we were briefly allowed into our home to salvage precious belongings. We took videotapes, photo albums, and journals – irreplacables. We thought about taking the bird but concurred that having our family and dog at my sister’s house was enough of an imposition. We loaded up Birdy’s food dishes and wished her the best. I thought of that day recently as the Palisades and Altadena fires raged in Los Angeles. What would I take today if we were evacuated?
    Most of our photos and videos reside in the cloud; most, though not all, of my writing is safe in Dropbox. I would still grab my oldest journals, the small books that recorded my eighth-grade thoughts on racism, the agonizing wait for my high school boyfriend to call, the fear of losing my identity during my first pregnancy (how, I couldn’t imagine, would I still be me and be a mother?), and the anticipatory grief as my mother and sister simultaneously moved closer to death. These are bits and pieces of me, glimpses into my unfiltered musings, that occasionally ground me and remind me that at my core, I’m still that adventurous, imaginative, outraged, loving, anxious, creative little girl.
    I wear the jewelry that carries meaning – my wedding ring, an identical twin to Fred’s, that was created from gold from our previous lives and shaped into interconnecting infinity signs; my mother’s engagement and wedding rings, soldered together to give them added strength having been worn by her, or me, for nearly 100 years. I would grab my earliest photo albums, with pictures of my parents on their honeymoon, of my siblings and cousins before I was born, of my 9th grade classmates, of my bunkmates in pajamas, of my dorm room at Northwestern.
    I would bring my dog, Moxie, of course, because the thought of life without her unconditional love and big brown eyes, her annoyingly endless licking of my face, would be impossibly challenging if we were in exile. I would grab enough pills to get me through a week, maybe some fruit and nuts, and as much water as I could manage, and a first aid kit. I’d wear low rise hiking boots to keep my feet dry and my body safer if falling on uneven terrain, plus layers of clothing and a waterproof outer layer.
    I understand that my clothing, as well as my new Vince sneakers and comfy navy boots, can all be replaced…..that books, while incredibly meaningful, don’t need to be owned….and that art, while unique and inspirational, can be made again.
    All of what I’ll bring will fit easily into either of our cars. But what will Fred bring and how in hell will I convince him to leave the bulk of his precious possessions behind? I console myself with the thought that each of us gets to choose what to bring, even if we can’t come up with a reason. And if I didn’t have even a moment to gather the items that cannot be replaced, I would assure myself that surviving a disaster with my family intact is really all that would truly matter.

    Joanne’s book, “By Accident: A Memoir of Letting Go” is now available from your favorite online book seller. Stay tuned to hear if Joanne will be speaking at a bookstore near you. If you’re interested in having her come to your local bookstore, contact her directly at joannergreene@gmail.com or get updates on her website at joanne-greene.com and make sure to sign up for her newsletter!
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    5 分
  • Taking Our Temperature

    Taking Our Temperature
    2025/02/21
    In this story, we take our temperature. I’m Joanne Greene.
    Now I understand why the elderly have always worn cardigans. They’re easier to put on and take off when our collective thermostats die.
    Case in point. This morning. There was frost on the ground, so I bundled up before taking my dog and grand dog for a forest therapy walk in the woods. Gloves, a beanie, and a parka seemed about right. And it was. For about 10 minutes. Then, off came the hat; I’ve never liked things on my head. Fifteen minutes later, the gloves came off…and I don’t mean that metaphorically. It was actually warm, in the way that California sun can trick you into believing that summer is approaching, even when plants are frozen. Eventually, dogs bounding around, in and out of mud puddles, off leash, it occurred to me that I had to keep track of all the items I was holding….gloves, hat, leashes, phone, headphones. You get the picture.
    It made me think of yesterday, when the family room felt so cold that I pulled a big cushion up to the fireplace and flipped the switch to get the fire going. I know…is it really a fire when you don’t need kindling? Answer: yes. We live in fire country. Case closed.
    I warmed up in minutes and, soon, was losing layers. Too hot. Too cold. Why can’t I seem to get it right? Did I worry about any of this when I was younger? Absolutely not. I grew up in freezing conditions and we wore knee socks and skirts walking to school in the winter. Did we talk about frigid thighs? Never. We just took it for granted that that’s how we were supposed to feel in winter. And then there was summer, which brought not just heat but stifling humidity…the kind that has you showering multiple times a day because as soon as you dry off, you’re bathed in perspiration again. Boys sweat; girls perspire. What?
    My husband’s hands and feet are always cold. It’s the price he pays for low blood pressure which, on balance, is a good tradeoff. But the downside is that we’re regularly negotiating about room temperature, when to turn the fire on and off, whether to leave the glass door in our bedroom open – just a sliver – when he says it’s unacceptably cold. Some couples have issues over money. Not us. We see eye to eye on just about everything, except for the damn temperature. “Is it hot in here?” I ask. Again. And again. And again. He arrives in the kitchen, having crossed the garage from his office to get there, and 9 times out of 10, he’s shivering. Are we going to have to heat the garage? Buy tiny heating pads for his feet? Install fans on every side table so that I don’t have to run out into the backyard mid-streaming show to feel a breeze? I don’t think so. Instead, maybe we just stock up on cardigans.

    Joanne’s book, “By Accident: A Memoir of Letting Go” is now available from your favorite online book seller. Stay tuned to hear if Joanne will be speaking at a bookstore near you. If you’re interested in having her come to your local bookstore, contact her directly at joannergreene@gmail.com or get updates on her website at joanne-greene.com and make sure to sign up for her newsletter!
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    4 分

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