Jumping on a big old jet airliner this morning, plans are to be in Los Angeles this afternoon. Checking out the Fatboy rehearsals, maybe stare at the Pacific Ocean for a change.
I lived in L.A. for awhile back in the late 80s, down in the Echo Park area.
Great place to be poor, always warm.
Saw a reading of Don Nigro's Traitors last night at Urban Stages. Excellent work. It's all about the Alger Hiss case and I'm usually not a fan of historical drama, but this was fascinating.
Ann and Rose have won again.
When life looks easy street, there is danger at your door.
And so, logically, you would pack your bags and run.
And that's my cue.
We lost Richard Wright, founding member of Pink Floyd.
Shine on, you crazy diamond.
Glorious sunrise coming up over the East River outside my window, think I'll get on a plane and see what's on the other side of it.