And the beat goes on…
Saturday evening my husband and I had some friends over. It was a small and intimate affair—with many laughs all around. It was also special because we toasted someone from my life—from all of our lives—on the sad occasion of her death. Before we began our meal, we all lifted our glasses in a toast to Beth Levine. It didn’t matter that I was the only one at the table who knew who Ms. Levine was...and how she influenced our culture so long ago. Each person obligingly repeated her name and clinked glasses, no doubt curious to see where this was going. After the toast, my guests looked at me expectantly, with the same look of confusion that I imagine is clouding your vision now. I told them that Beth Levine had played a big part in my youth—helping to capture many memories of me dancing around and laughing—every moment caught on film by my father, to haunt me all the days of my life. As I waited to see if anyone caught on, I saw my husband smile. He knew where this was going. Next, I