I have been to the mountain top....
I mean it—I’ve just gotten back from seeing my buddies in BTO ("Bachman-Turner Overdrive":http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bachman-Turner_Overdrive) perform at a big concert over in St. Petersburg, Florida, and I got to sing onstage with them!
I’m not lying. I really did get to sing onstage with them. OK, maybe it wasn’t with all of them, but there were actual witnesses who will testify that …
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The fountain behind my summer-dressed friend chased the humidity away with sprays of _fresh!_ Oh, the feeling of breezy drizzles of water quenched my skin's desire as I was already holding a bottle of Aquafina. The Aquafina was lonely and wanted the ever-prized New York falafel, a dish simply amazing with stir-fried lamb, veggies, and yellow rice.
So I granted the wish of the humble bottle. I boxed my …
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Detroit's chic "Rattlesnake Club":http://www.rattlesnakeclub.com/resturants/detroit/index.php called to me for chef Jimmy Schmidt's cuisine and a nighttime view of the Detroit River. What brought Alice Cooper there, I don't know. But when I spotted him across the dining room, I knew what to do.
I called my waitress over and instructed her, "A Pepsi to Mr. Cooper with my compliments."
It was delivered, and the waitress pointed out the kind …
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I had won tickets to sit in the VIP area of a Pearl Jam concert in Camden several years ago. While Iggy Pop opened, Eddie and other members of the band sneaked into the empty row behind us.
He was suffering from a cold, and was coughing and snuffling a lot. Suddenly, as he leaned forward to get up and return backstage, he sneezed right onto my head. He …
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My mom, dad, best friend, and I were waiting in front of the Berkeley Community Theatre in Berkeley, California, for the "Keane":http://www.keanemusic.com/ concert that night. We got there hours before the concert so we could get good seats. The tour bus was parked right in front of where we were sitting.
We were waiting, in the broiling sun, for the clock to strike 7:00 when we saw Tom Chaplin …
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"That guy looks familiar," I said to Mike.
"It's Elvis Costello," deadpanned Mike, clearly more versed in the ways of celebrity sightings. I've lived in New York for a decade, but when it comes to spotting stars, I'm the worst. I never recognize anyone. Not Susan Sarandon, just steps in front of me on Fifth Avenue, when my friend pointed her out. Not Michael Stipe, right over …
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I swear on my auntie's clarinet that high school band nerds, besides participating in band camp every summer, also do fun things, believe it or not—like take band trips out of town. For a stranded teenager, these trips were the highlight of the school year.
Of the four band trips I made during high school, the one to San Fransisco was probably the best of them all. A gaggle …
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It was one of those summers in which residents born without the desert-dweller gene would flee the city like so many citizens in Godzilla's wake.
Being 14 then, my best friend and I had already planned our summer, and it expressly involved going to Las Vegas's only water park every day for as long as we could barter passage with our parental units.
On this day, we had …
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The day I rented my live/work loft in Soho, consummating a lifelong dream to live in New York, I saw David Carradine walking down West Broadway. It seemed like an omen of glamorous days ahead for me.
But New York was—like New Jersey and Maryland and Florida had been before it—just another place where I worked too many hours a week and had a semi-acceptable relationship with someone who …
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In the summer of 2002, I was working at a record store in Santa Monica. After a long day of having customers complain about our strict return policy, I stomped down to the local convenience store for some post-shift cigarettes.
It was busy, and Aziz (the clerk) was working his immigrant ass off for a couple of bucks to send back to the old country. The door alarm kept …
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I was flying from STX to MIA. It was the mid-1980s. I got bumped up to first class. A woman sat down with me. We spoke of mothers and self. We shared our hearts in abundance. A sweet love formed between us. Sisters in the Earth's blue atmosphere.
After some hours, we shared names. I am Vicki Marsh; she was Marianne Faithfull. "Wow, wow, wow, wow," I said. We …
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I was at Film Forum and had seen Natalie Portman and Gael Garcia Bernal in the crowded lobby before we took our seats. My male friend swooned a little. After the movie, I made my way to the narrow bathrooms and knocked into Portman with my bag while we were negotiating the area around the sink. Apologies were exchanged, and I went off into the night.
I was a young, hungry, and desperate actress, and my legs were aching from another day of fruitless rounds. As I approached the final building, an officious doorman stopped me. I explained that I was simply headed in to drop off my headshots at various agents.
"Well, just between you and me," he confided, eyeballing me up and down, "Bill Murray is in this building, and he's looking for …
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I was a young single living the free-spirited life of the '70s in the beautiful ski town of Aspen, Colorado. After leaving a friend's apartment, I was walking down the street, about to head into my favorite local pub. I thought of something very amusing that had just happened earlier at my friend's place. I was smiling largely!
A man and his friend had just stepped out of the …
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In 1990, I was in Chicago for my 25-year high school reunion. After the festivities, two friends from Green Bay met me in the city for a wonderful touristy weekend. One of them, Rita, is a real cutup.
We were shopping at the Express on Michigan Ave., looking for something as mundane as socks. As I was poking around in piles of them, Rita walked over and pulled at …
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Misty wintry afternoon. My friend Janny and I were—arm in arm—briskly clacking in our highest heels down Fifth Ave. It was 1974, and we were young and stylish, self-satisfied and loving being Manhattan women.
Suddenly we see a skinny woman in a print dress holding on to her wildly wide-brimmed hat and running full force across the avenue toward us, head ducked down to brave the chilly wind. "Where …
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Meeting "Brian Molko":http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brian_Molko was probably the best day of my life. I walked away with my knees shaking.
I was looking at fat-girl clothes at Value City. I looked up and saw "Tammy Faye Bakker":http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tammy_Faye_Messner. I felt threatened by her spider lashes. These were no normal spider lashes—fucking tarantulas.
I looked at her, said, "Oh, my God," and ran away to tell my mom. I think she was offended. I am pretty sure she is dead now.
I was in Japan studying abroad in 2004, and Frank Valentine, the former Mets manager, was standing behind me on an escalator in a large shopping complex. He looked jacked and straight out of Queens in Tokyo. It was quite the site.
I was taking a summer course at Oxford, and the magazine I wrote for scored an interview for me with P.D. James, my favorite author. I remember wondering on the train down to London how many people she would have around to protect her, as the interview was to take place at her Holland Park townhouse.
The spry octogenarian opened the door herself, no secretary or press people …
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