Such a weekend we just celebrated in LA, full of sin and dishonor, two qualities that also make special our little village by the sea.
Their final season: Grant Wood should paint it. Wordsworth should caption it…something about soothing thoughts and primal sympathies.
A Realtor friend says that Angelina Jolie is looking for a place in the Pasadena area, over near where Meryl Streep lives. I told my friend: “That seems silly. Why doesn’t she just move in with us?”
What a gift, co-existence. I cannot say it enough. It is the glory of this nation, the collective core value of our greatest faiths.
As my Irish luck would have it, I wound up singing “Danny Boy” to Dogpark Gary.
Oy, the Irish. We glow like porch lights and think we can talk our way out of every traffic ticket.
I kept my mouth shut initially. I’ve always prided myself on a rather pagan value system, tolerant of nudity and subversives…the snide outbursts of youth.
I am glad now that I bribed my kids their entire lives. Nothing major, just a series of cumulative parental gestures: shoes, shelter, cake, college.
I think Oregon is for me, even if Smartacus chooses someplace else. It’s the Versailles of the Pacific Northwest.
Seems inevitable I would end up with Bacharach’s ex-wife, this glorious moonbeam of a woman.