Welcome to the Monkey House

November 24, 2019

I wandered deep into Topanga on Saturday and emerged, at days end, a different person.…

Black Smoke. White Smoke.

November 18, 2019

Two key questions: are the Santa Ana’s blowing and what color is the smoke? If…

Fret Not

November 3, 2019

Was at an orchestra concert the other day watching my favorite cellist and noticed that…

Thirteen

October 24, 2019

Backpack half zipped on the kitchen table,Beat up paperback Fahrenheit 451 in the side pocket,Simpsons…

Deadicated 6.16.18

June 25, 2018

FADE IN Citi Field.  General Admission. Three rows back from the stage. The crowd dances,…

Divine Intervention

June 20, 2018

So here I am driving down the road, reeling from an earlier conversation, trying to…

Luggage or leverage?

June 3, 2018

One step back…WTF? These freaking voices in my head… So, the other day, I am…

Year of the Rabbit

May 1, 2018

"What year?" Vince asks. "1963." I say with a certain amount of pride. "Huh, year…

Oh, my…

April 15, 2018

Went to Supercuts on Saturday: to the usual one over on 18th and Wilshire.  All…

Learning to fly

March 18, 2018

  Took flight again today at Pranayama Breathe Class on a Sunday afternoon. I visited…

Squeak!

February 24, 2018

Squeak. Step. Squeak. Step. Squeak. Pause. Stop. Pause. Step. Squeak. Humph… My favorite shoes are…

#leftearrightear

February 14, 2018

  FADE IN. EXT: DAD comes into focus, a big guy, burley, mid-thirties, Oklahoma t-shirt,…

Have and Have Nots

February 6, 2018

I am struggling a bit.   A few days ago I woke up pre-dawn, made a…

I don’t know, it just

January 15, 2018

drives me crazy that people don’t really greet each other anymore. I’m not sure why…

Turn the tables

August 31, 2017

I have a coach that helps me navigate the training regime for all of these…

385 in dog years…

August 6, 2017

I am getting old. I’m almost 385 in dog years. Humph… The other day I…

And he lives in Nashville. Went there recently to reconnect and discovered a whole new…

Owling

July 24, 2017

Went owling with Vince the other night. We have a big tree in the backyard…

Coco and Adele

July 23, 2017

One afternoon in the Marais (how cool is that for an opening line?) Teri and…

Merci Madame Killelay

July 19, 2017

One of my favorite teachers, Madame Killlelay, taught high school French. I think she tops…

Nice is nice (PG13)

July 13, 2017

Was a hot day in Nice. I had some down time before the flight back…

Comrades in arms…

July 10, 2017

And legs. And mind, body and spirit. Just whisper “Kowies, Fields, Bothas, Inchanga or Polly…

Triple death by…

July 7, 2017

Seriously? It’s Saturday morning. I mean what kind of message is that suppose to send…

Wump-Wump-Wump

July 6, 2017

Thursday afternoon Dad via text: “send a pic people here want to see” Dad’s internal…

La Decima

July 5, 2017

He’s a god, a modern day god, like Zeus with a tennis racket. And we…

Thursday afternoon
Dad via text: “send a pic people here want to see”
Dad’s internal conversation: “It’s crazy that fire is a spectator sport here in LA, watching the fearless firefighters waging battle against the elements, smoke counts some but actual flames get the utmost respect, they’re the real deal. Maybe we’re conditioned from the countless hours of media coverage over the years, we know real danger when we see it. It’s this weird fascination this urban battle with nature.”

Adele sends the attached photo. Dad freaks. Smoke and fire…

Adele via text: “helicopter is putting out some flames”
Dad via text (nervously): “Good deal keep me posted”
Adele via text: “fire truck is riding up and down the street”
Dad sitting in office, ten miles away, watching the smoke getting thicker and thicker, has another internal conversation: “OK, Topanga has not burned in decades, there’s enough fuel in the hills to cause some serious damage, and once it goes, its gonna GO! Teri, kids and dogs are together and they can get out via PCH or via the access road behind the Getty, they will be fine, don’t forget Sunny the lizard. Our important papers are here with me. Check to make sure the passports are here. Need keys for lock box and storage unit. There’s cash in the house somewhere. Gas in the car? Need clothes, maybe a place to stay?”
Teri via text: “don’t try and come home early the traffic is awful they’ve closed PCH at coastline”
Dad sitting in office, internal conversation: “I’ve got my running stuff in the car, can run back home if need be…”

Friday afternoon
Teri via text: “fire is back”
Dad, sitting in the office, searching for the smoke plume through the thick, brown haze, has another internal conversation: “that’s not good, they put all kinds of heavy artillery on it last night and dumped tons of water and fire retardant, what do you mean its back?”
Teri via text: “can you get Vince?” meaning go get him NOW, anxiety levels are starting to peak.
Dad drops everything goes…

Saturday, Sunday & Monday we had a steady stream of helicopters and planes dropping water and fire retardant along the ridge and down the other side of the canyon. It was like being in some kind of altered reality where big, heavy machinery battled the elements all around us and life just sort of continued on as if everything was perfectly normal. Every once in a while we would stop and snap a photo, respond to a neighbor peeking over our fence or check online to make sure the flames were getting smaller. Sirens and the “wump-wump-wump” of the helicopters fell into a natural rhythm. By sundown Tuesday they stopped. It was a long holiday weekend.

“Wump-Wump-Wump” Price we pay for paradise…

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