FEB 2021 - I am not prudish. I mean, there was that day on Melrose Avenue when I let all of Los Angeles ogle my chest. Cleavage versus clothing? No, something much more eye-catching - an old wooden toy. I juggled against my bosom a rickety antique doll buggy thirty-six inches stem to stern and ungainly as heck to tote. Cultural Weekly has published my essay tracing my family heirloom's journey from 1877 Iowa to present-day California, and the genetics, prejudices, dreams and quirks that came along for the ride.
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