Not as bland as toast, but just as spicy
I keep saying it'll be my last story but then I think of another one… I was having martinis with some friends at the Biltmore in Montecito. This is around 2000. I think. I don't know anymore. What I remember is that I noticed my friend, Craig, was in the lobby and not joining our... Continue Reading →
This one is more embarrassing than body-slamming a supermodel. Don't worry, I'm gonna to tell you anyway. My friends are good friends with a well-known author. A very well-known author. Not some slouchy, dime store, cozy novelist. A real writer of Literature. No begrudging anyone at all with the creativity, determination, discipline, and drive to... Continue Reading →
Once Melinda and I came out of a restaurant in the Upper Village of Montecito after a long lunch and got into her car to go home. Long after I went through the CDs and wondered when she became a Art Garfunkel/John Oats fan... Long after she fully adjusted the driver’s seat, rearview mirror, shoulder... Continue Reading →
