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Speech Therapy
Back during the winter of 2006-07, I was hospitalized at Cedars-Sinai in West Hollywood. Following brain surgery which yielded a diagnosis of PML, I spent about a week in the ICU and then another week “recovering” in the posh “celebrity wing” I’d finagled my way into (just how is a story for another time). The…
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Rock of Ages
This is the story of a rock. Not a metaphorical rock. And we could argue whether the rock would more accurately be called a stone, or a boulder. And I just made a note in my journal to write a post in the future about rocks, stones, and boulders, specifically the characteristics of each and…
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It all started with Ranjit’s legs
The first computer program I wrote was called ROLO. That’s not entirely true, because in high school I’d written a program that did nothing but print my name out on the screen ten times to demonstrate to Mr. Rodgers, the Computer Science teacher, my grasp of the concept of “iteration” using a for-next loop. It…
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Mexico
Oh, MexicoIt sounds so sweet with the sun sinking lowThe moon’s so bright like to light up the nightMake everything all right James Taylor, “Mexico,” 1975, from the album Gorilla Watching the coverage of the protests in Los Angeles, one thing stands out. It is Mexico’s green, white, and red flag that has become a…
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Rage, rage against the dying of the light
Let’s get this out of the way right at the start. No. I don’t know who he is. But that is not to say I don’t remember him. Knowing the incubation period for the virus, I can narrow it down to one guy. I call him “white SUV guy.” He lived in Larchmont, a trendy…
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Pillow Talk
When I first saw Ray, he was sitting alone at the other end of the bar. Ray is a “peeler;” he compulsively peels the label off his beer bottle between swigs. A jet-black head of hair atop an olive complexion gave him a dark, swarthy, almost brooding look. I could tell he was Latino –…
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Party like it’s 1999
Mark was a mess. But he was rich, so as drinking buddies go, when you’re in your 30s and up to your nipples in credit card debt, he was a good friend to have. Plus he had a really cute Latino boyfriend that I had less than honorable designs on, so I figured “befriending” Mark…
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Boys Town
It rained all day. Rain in Los Angeles makes the city feel clean. The smog disappears; the dust is washed off windowsills and handrails. There’s a distinctive smell in the air after a Los Angeles rain: it’s called petrichor, from the Greek words petra (meaning stone), and ichor (from Greek mythology, referring to the fluid that flows like blood in…
Your mileage may vary.