Lifestyle
L.A. Affairs: Years after my husband's death, I'm saying goodbye to his pickup truck
“I’m just an American guy in a pickup truck,” said Stephen Beech at the end of one of our early dates. It was Valentine’s Day 1993, and he was dropping me off at my Santa Monica apartment.
His comment was supposed to act as a deterrent as he explained why he wasn’t the man for me. He’d been through a difficult few years. His first marriage had ended, and he wasn’t looking for a serious relationship. Anyway, he pointed out, we were from different worlds. He was a property manager from Philadelphia, I was a British journalist based in L.A. Also, while Stephen was intent on remaining single, I was on a mission to meet the right man and start a family.
But I’d already discovered that the tall, introspective, good-looking man I was falling for had hidden depths. He played classical guitar and he was funny and philosophical too. I’d met him at a part-time master’s program in spiritual psychology at the University of Santa Monica. The fact that he drove a pickup truck only added to the romantic allure.
There was clearly an attraction on his part too. After all, there we were kissing in his blue truck outside my apartment. So we continued dating, and we went everywhere in that blue truck: coffees and dinners, drives along Pacific Coast Highway to Malibu or further north to visit friends in Ojai. I learned more about his reluctance to get involved. Stephen and his first wife had lost their little girl to cancer. He’d been trying to recover from intense grief and rebuild his life without the complications of a relationship.
But our relationship took on an ineluctable momentum, and by October, I was pregnant. When our daughter, Chace, was born in August 1994, we drove home from the hospital in the blue truck. When we bought our house in Santa Monica, Stephen piled all our possessions into the back of the truck. He used the truck to haul paving stones for our yard and plants from the garden center. By the time our second daughter, Ava-Rose, arrived four years later, the truck remained reliable.
Eventually, though, it started to break down. One spring day, I arrived home from work just as Stephen was pulling up outside our house in a gleaming, brand-new, white Dodge pickup. Stephen didn’t get excited about much, but he was smiling broadly as he took me for a spin. Payments were $400 a month, a big chunk of his paycheck, but it was worth it.
The truck became an integral part of life. There were heated conversations in the front and back seats about school, friendships and politics and there were fights about music: whether we should listen to Radio Disney or classical station KUSC. Often the consensus ended up being “The Weight,” our favorite song by Stephen’s favorite band, the Band.
Most mornings he’d take the girls to school — Ava invariably leaving the house in a panic, eating the bowl of oatmeal her dad had made her for breakfast on the road while finishing her homework. He’d drive Ava to fencing competitions all over California. He’d take Ava and Chace to ballet, and he used the truck to cart around equipment when he was volunteering backstage for the Westside School of Ballet’s production of “The Nutcracker” every year.
When our daughters were in their teens, he’d take them and their friends to parties, happy to be the designated parent collecting everyone in the early hours and making sure they got home safely. He was always putting his truck to good use helping out friends and neighbors.
There were often surprise presents delivered in the truck: One birthday, it was a purple wisteria tree; one Valentine’s day, it was a vintage O’Keefe & Merritt stove.
But my favorite memories of Stephen and his truck were more mundane, involving countless serendipitous meetings around Santa Monica. I’d be out walking our dogs, Puck and Chaucer, and Stephen would just happen to be driving along the same road. He’d slow down, left elbow resting on the open window, and stop for a quick chat: “What’s up?”
The truck was emblematic of the man. Trustworthy. Enduring. Reliable. Safe. Strong. Until it wasn’t. On March 12, 2018, Stephen called from work to say he wasn’t feeling well. He was shuffling and unsteady on his feet. I suggested that he should drive to the ER just to check that all was well.
That was the last time Stephen drove his truck. He was admitted to the hospital, had a brain scan and was diagnosed with a brain stem tumor. His condition deteriorated rapidly. My Strong American Guy in a Pickup Truck could no longer drive. After three major surgeries in quick succession, he was in a wheelchair and couldn’t walk. Stephen handed over the keys of his truck to Chace, who’d moved back home from New York where she’d been working to help take care of her dad. (Ava was in her first year at college.) Chace drove us in the truck to oncology appointments until it became too difficult and Stephen needed to be picked up by private ambulance.
Over the next 3½ years, Stephen gradually lost his ability to talk, eat or breathe independently. But he remained courageous and optimistic. Like the sturdy white truck, Stephen’s spirit and will to live were strong.
Today, almost four years since Stephen lost his battle with brain cancer, it’s time to say goodbye to the truck. Chace has already spent thousands of dollars on repairs, so we’ve made the tough decision to donate it to charity.
Some of the deep grief I’ve experienced since Stephen was initially diagnosed with an incurable glioma seven years ago had subsided a little, but it’s back. I miss Stephen and I’m sad that I won’t see the truck when I go out for my early morning walk.
On a recent Sunday morning, I decide to hose it down and wipe away the ingrained grime. I’m sure that wherever he is, Stephen is rolling his eyes, having a laugh at my careless use of the hose as I end up drenched. I’m sure there’s also a wry smile as he watches me take the truck for a drive (my first) along our road, encouraged by Dave, our next-door neighbor.
“You have to drive it once,” says Dave, so I do.
I will miss the white truck: resilient, kind and generous, just like the American guy who owned it. But it’s time to set off on my next adventure, knowing that Stephen’s spirit will always be beside me in the passenger seat.
The author is a senior writer at Thrive Global. Prior to Thrive, she wrote for U.K. and global newspapers, including the Guardian, the Times, the Telegraph and the Mail on Sunday. She also was a TV correspondent for the BBC and other U.K. networks.
L.A. Affairs chronicles the search for romantic love in all its glorious expressions in the L.A. area, and we want to hear your true story. We pay $400 for a published essay. Email LAAffairs@latimes.com. You can find submission guidelines here. You can find past columns here.
Lifestyle
Out of work and with 2 teens, this mom may lose food stamps under Trump’s changes
Mara is a single mother of two in Minnesota. She and her family have depended on SNAP benefits to make ends meet.
Caroline Yang for NPR
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Caroline Yang for NPR
Although Mara is unemployed, she is busier than ever.
When she is not taking care of her two children, Mara is at her desk applying for jobs. She is surveying her belongings to see what she can pawn off to buy toiletries. Or she is sifting through bills, calculating which ones can wait and which need to be paid right away.
Soon, Mara, a single mom in Minnesota, may have another task on her busy schedule: figuring out how to afford food for her and her family.
That’s because of new work requirements for people receiving aid from the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, also known as SNAP or food stamps.

“It would be so beyond hard” to lose SNAP benefits, Mara said. “Without SNAP, there’s no funds for food.” Mara asked for her last name to be withheld given the stigma tied to receiving government assistance. She is also worried that speaking publicly will affect her chances of getting a job.
Previously, SNAP recipients with children under 18 were exempt from work requirements mandating that recipients work, volunteer or participate in job training at least 80 hours a month. But now, under President Trump’s One Big Beautiful Bill Act, that exemption only applies to those with children under 14 — which is how old Mara’s youngest child turned in December.
“It would be so beyond hard” to lose SNAP benefits, Mara said.
Caroline Yang for NPR
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Caroline Yang for NPR
The Trump administration has argued that the mission of the nation’s largest anti-hunger program has failed.
“SNAP was intended to be temporary help for those who encounter tough times. Now, it’s become so bloated that it is leaving fewer resources for those who truly need help,” the White House said in a statement in June.
But policy experts say the SNAP changes do not fully take into account the unique challenges faced by single parents like Mara or the sluggish job market in many parts of the country. They argue that losing food assistance will only create more barriers for recipients struggling to find work.
The timeline for implementing the new SNAP policy varies based on state and county. In Mara’s home state of Minnesota, recipients who don’t qualify for an exemption or meet work requirements will be at risk of losing assistance as early as April 1. Others may have more months depending on when they next need to certify they are eligible for benefits.
Over 100 job applications
Mara imagined she would have a job by now.
It was August when she was let go from her part-time administrative assistant role due to her workplace restructuring. Since then, Mara estimates that she has applied for over 100 positions. She has also attended job fairs and taken free workshops on resume writing.
She has been working since high school, she said, but “ I’ve never been out of work for more than one month, so it’s very difficult.”
Mara spends time working at the computer at CareerForce, a resource for job seekers in Minnesota, on March 4.
Caroline Yang for NPR
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Caroline Yang for NPR
Although she misses her old job, Mara said it didn’t pay enough to support her and her kids, so she relied on SNAP benefits.

Many recipients are part of the low-wage labor market, where job security is often unpredictable and turnover tends to be high, according to Lauren Bauer, a researcher at the Brookings Institution who has studied SNAP extensively.
“SNAP is supposed to be there to help people smooth that and not let the bottom fall out when they experience job loss,” she said. “And this policy doesn’t account for that at all.”
Mara’s lowest point came in November when the government shutdown led to disruptions in SNAP benefits. Not only was she searching for a new job, but she was constantly figuring out where to get her family’s next meal.
“I might be looking for food stuff during the day when I should have been looking for a job,” she said. “Then, I’m trying to make up that time in the evening after my kids go to bed.”
During the pause, Mara turned to food banks, which revealed other challenges. First, food pantries do not always provide enough for an adult and two growing teenagers, she said. Second, they often lack gluten-free foods, which is essential for her daughter who has celiac disease, an autoimmune disorder that causes digestive problems if gluten is consumed. Gluten-free products tend to be more expensive.
If Mara loses access to SNAP again because of the new work requirements, she fears another stretch of long days spent looking for the right food and enough to feed her family.
“I would be so reliant on looking for food shelves or food banks,” she said. “There would not be time to even live.”
“We’re going to see increases in poverty. We’re going to see increases in food insecurity”
The Congressional Budget Office estimates that roughly 2.4 million people will lose food benefits in a typical month over the next decade as a result of the new SNAP requirements — including 300,000 parents like Mara with children 14 or older.
Gina Plata-Nino, the SNAP director at the nonprofit Food Research & Action Center, says many of the affected recipients will be single mothers who make up a majority of single parent households in the U.S. She added that the changes target a group that often lacks or struggles to afford a support system to help care for their children.
“How can they have a full-time job when they need to pick up their children [for] various activities?” she said. “And they are working — just not enough hours because they need to be there present for their children.”
Mara shops for groceries at a local discount grocery store.
Caroline Yang for NPR
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Caroline Yang for NPR
The new law also imposes work requirements on veterans, homeless people, young adults aging out of foster care, and able-bodied adults without dependents from ages 55 to 64.
It also toughened the criteria for waiving work requirements for recipients in areas with high unemployment. Previously, there were multiple ways to determine a weak labor market and secure a waiver. Now, it only applies to places with an unemployment rate above 10%. (Alaska and Hawaii have a different measure.)
For those who fail to meet the work requirement, SNAP provides assistance for up to three months within a three-year span. But Bauer from the Brookings Institution argues that it is not enough and the impact of SNAP changes will be widespread.
“We’re going to see increases in poverty. We’re going to see increases in food insecurity. We’re going to see increasing strain on the charitable food sector,” she said.
Mara holds her favorite anchor ring, which carries the inscription, “God for me provide thee.”
Caroline Yang for NPR
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Caroline Yang for NPR
As anxiety hangs over her head, Mara tries to put on a brave face for her children. She does not want them to worry, explaining that her recent struggles have reminded her how tough life can get as an adult.
“I remind them it’s not their responsibility and they’re not accountable for me or for what’s happening,” she said. “I say, just know you get to be a kid.”
Lifestyle
‘TODAY’ Show Dylan Dreyer Says Savannah Guthrie Will Likely Return, Not Sure When
Dylan Dreyer
Savannah Will Likely Come Back … Just Not Sure When
Published
TMZ.com
Dylan Dreyer is giving a small update on her embattled “Today” co-host, Savannah Guthrie, as the search continues for Savannah’s mom, Nancy — telling TMZ she does believe she’ll likely return to the show at some point.
We caught Dylan leaving NBC Tuesday afternoon, and she said while she thinks Savannah will come back, the timing is totally unclear — adding everyone at the show is simply giving her the space she needs because they care about her so much.
TMZ.com
Dylan also reflected on Savannah’s emotional visit to the “TODAY” studio last Thursday, saying the hug they shared was something they both really needed in that moment.
Catch the full clip — Dylan says the visit was incredibly emotional, adding Savannah clearly wants to get back to some sense of normal life … she just doesn’t quite know how yet.
Still, Savannah managed a few smiles during the brief stop by the studio, doing her best to keep moving forward during an incredibly tough time.
TMZ.com
As we reported, Nancy was taken from her Tucson home in the middle of the night on February 1. She was last seen entering the house just before 10 PM on January 31 after dinner with her daughter Annie and Annie’s husband, Tommaso Cioni.
Lifestyle
‘American Classic’ is a hidden gem that gets even better as it goes
Kevin Kline plays actor Richard Bean, and Laura Linney is his sister-in-law Kristen, in American Classic.
David Giesbrecht/MGM+
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David Giesbrecht/MGM+
American Classic is a hidden gem, in more ways than one. It’s hidden because it’s on MGM+, a stand-alone streaming service that, let’s face it, most people don’t have. But MGM+ is available without subscription for a seven-day free trial, on its website or through Prime Video and Roku. And you should find and watch American Classic, because it’s an absolutely charming and wonderful TV jewel.
Charming, in the way it brings small towns and ordinary people to life, as in Northern Exposure. Wonderful, in the way it reflects the joys of local theater productions, as in Slings & Arrows, and the American Playhouse production of Kurt Vonnegut’s Who Am I This Time?
The creators of American Classic are Michael Hoffman and Bob Martin. Martin co-wrote and co-created Slings & Arrows, so that comparison comes easily. And back in the early 1980s, Who Am I This Time? was about people who transformed onstage from ordinary citizens into extraordinary performers. It’s a conceit that works only if you have brilliant actors to bring it to life convincingly. That American Playhouse production had two young actors — Christopher Walken and Susan Sarandon — so yes, it worked. And American Classic, with its mix of veteran and young actors, does, too.

American Classic begins with Kevin Kline, as Shakespearean actor Richard Bean, confronting a New York Times drama critic about his negative opening-night review of Richard’s King Lear. The next day, Richard’s agent, played by Tony Shalhoub, calls Richard in to tell him his tantrum was captured by cellphone and went viral, and that he has to lay low for a while.
Richard returns home to the small town of Millersburg, Pa., where his parents ran a local theater. Almost everyone we meet is a treasure. His father, who has bouts of dementia, is played by Len Cariou, who starred on Broadway in Sweeney Todd. Richard’s brother, Jon, is played by Jon Tenney of The Closer, and his wife, Kristen, is played by the great Laura Linney, from Ozark and John Adams.
Things get even more complicated because the old theater is now a dinner theater, filling its schedule with performances by touring regional companies. Its survival is at risk, so Richard decides to save the theater by mounting a new production of Thornton Wilder’s Our Town, casting the local small-town residents to play … local small-town residents.
Miranda, Richard’s college-bound niece, continues the family theatrical tradition — and Nell Verlaque, the young actress who plays her, has a breakout role here. She’s terrific — funny, touching, totally natural. And when she takes the stage as Emily in Our Town, she’s heart-wrenching. Playwright Wilder is served magnificently here — and so is William Shakespeare, whose works and words Kline tackles in more than one inspirational scene in this series.
I don’t want to reveal too much about the conflicts, and surprises, in American Classic, but please trust me: The more episodes you watch, the better it gets. The characters evolve, and go in unexpected directions and pairings. Kline’s Richard starts out thinking about only himself, but ends up just the opposite. And if, as Shakespeare wrote, the play’s the thing, the thing here is, the plays we see, and the soliloquies we hear, are spellbinding.
And there’s plenty of fun to be had outside the classics in American Classic. The table reads are the most delightful since the ones in Only Murders in the Building. The dinner-table arguments are the most explosive since the ones in The Bear. Some scenes are take-your-breath-away dramatic. Others are infectiously silly, as when Richard works with a cast member forced upon him by the angel of this new Our Town production.
Take the effort to find, and watch, American Classic. It’ll remind you why, when it’s this good, it’s easy to love the theater. And television.


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