memoir

602: Life Without an Oven

Family lore: My dad was nine when a neighbor living on the south side of Ocean Parkway offered my grandfather first crack at the gorgeous 1920s Spanish-style house he was putting up for sale because he was moving to L.A. It was around 1934, the Depression was not yet over, and the $25,000 price that Jay […]

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It was the hardest work. Ever.

I’ve been spending a lot of time lately hurtling around the world at 40,000 feet, stuffed into a metal tube, breathing forced air, willing my exhausted self to not get sick (I failed at that; as I write this I sound like a cross between Brenda Vaccarro and Bea Arthur), and trying to enjoy the […]

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