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Anyhow, I’m chattin’ with her—nice gal, calls herself Starla, prolly fake, who cares? She’s laughin’, I’m laughin’—folks, it’s a hoot ‘til she says, “Fifty bucks, grandpa.” Fifty?! Made me madder’n a wet hen—back in my day, you’d get a handshake and a burger for that! But then—here’s the deal—she winks, says, “Just kiddin’, Joe, you’re a charmer.” Heart skipped a beat, swear to God—felt like a kid again.

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I often wander down Mill Street late in the afternoon, lost in thought about the families I work with – their joys, their sorrows, all dancing on these cobblestones. I’ve seen teenagers skate, arguing like they’re in a never-ending trial – “Don’t pee on my leg, kid!” – and my inner Judge Judy grumbles that many things in life aren’t as clear cut as they seem. I mean, chaotic, wild, and beautiful, all the same.

100 years of the Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory Association