Bagels to Biscuits

WE WERE THE PERFECT MATCH; THE ROCKS IN MY HEAD FIT THE HOLES IN HERS. Athens, Georgia. 1966. Three years before Woodstock. There I was, a na ve Jewish kid from Miami Beach plunked down as a freshman at the University of Georgia-where at 19, I fell in love with and married a slightly unbalanced gentile girl whom I met at the hippie table in Creswell Cafeteria. We were the perfect match; the rocks in my head fit the holes in hers. Eschewing any sort of life plan, we spent the next 50 years dealing with whatever the universe sent our way. Our destiny became a moving target. This memoir looks back at it all-the successes and failures, the craziness and fun, the trouble and woe. We thought we'd live forever, and for a while, we did.