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My wife first notices it from the window of our hotel room in Venice Beach. Every evening, in the alley out back, a small shack appears made from a complex arrangement of orange traffic cones, blue tarps and shiny chrome supermarket trolleys. The next morning it is dismantled, the the tarps neatly folded and everything stacked in an orderly pile. We never see who does it, nor hear any

From the Huffington Post:

While no one was looking, Fairfield, Iowa has become a mecca for musicians and artists. Every variation of music and art that one can imagine is prospering in this growing township, and that includes musical theater. And of all the productions that have opened and closed in this creative community for as far back as anyone can remember, none has affected its

In some past life I must have been late for a train.  Overburdened with luggage, breathless, I can see me running, fedora whisked from my head by the wind.  Only by some feat of strength, some last surge of energy, am I able to clamber aboard the moving coach, neither helped nor encouraged by the barrel-chested, walrus-whiskered conductor.  I lay breathless on the floor of the shifting

He tried to remember when he was a baby.  He could only visualize a Polaroid photograph of a party in his stepfather's basement.  There was his mother, all legs in a mini-skirt, his biological father, clueless, and, among an assortment of other mushroom-haired men, his future stepfather licking the edge of a hand-rolled cigarette. Lots of alcohol and joints were in play, and there he was, Paul,

Some thoughts about that: if not in an opera house then here under the girders of a new civilization in which the contemplative norm is that of a cheeseburger with a face full of sesames.  McCheese is one's neighbor and mayor, and his clown same-sex partner is a cook of sorts, and I guess a lot of people go there.  I have to admit I stopped years ago.  The fried fish sandwiches were about all I