The light in the courtyard is mellowing as the sun slowly sets in Los Angeles. I’m sitting by a fountain at LACMA listening to the sounds of the Encore Saxophone Quartet. I can’t begin to name the piece, though it feels remarkably Gershwin-like (are those strains of Summertime I hear?). The children who were running
As I reflect on my increasing poverty, I find myself drawn to web zones like the Yahoo! Real Estate section. http://realestate.yahoo.com/promo/10-cheapest-cities-in-the-country.html Do my eyes deceive me? Are there no cities in SoCal on that list? Shocking. Shocking, I say. It’s not that there aren’t many things to do in Los Angeles that are free or
I get it. You’re driving down Sunset at sunset, and you are thinking, “I’m feeling mighty manly and invigorated by this beautiful evening—I wonder what I should do with all of this energy?” I’m sure, at a time when I wasn’t already dead inside, I also felt that way (well, probably not the manly part).