I was stuck in a driveway off Sunset Boulevard, my right-turn light blinking timidly. A naturally cautious driver, I scooted out one inch at a time, watching as car after car flew past. Just when I felt the bleakest, when Los Angeles felt the most cruel, a brand-new bright red sports car came to a full stop, its driver waving me ahead of him and into the lane with a … Read more »
So Iâ€™m standing at the counter saying good-bye to my friends Mary and Primo. It is the last day of the season, and Iâ€™m making my final purchase at their general store, which wonâ€™t reopen until spring. I look at the man next to me, and it takes only a half second for me to realize that it is Jim Belushi.
I can feel my heart race, my head … Read more »
When I was 18, I had a fortunate encounter with the Zappa family. Before I knew it, I was hanging out with Diva, who was the youngest and the same age as I was. We would hang out every dayâ€”because we got along so wellâ€”and it wasnâ€™t uncommon for people to stop her in the middle of a purchase and ask her if she was related the late Frank Zappa.
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We were enjoying my friend's dad's skybox tickets for the Wizards vs. Celtics game this weekend. Neither team seemed to want to win, and nobody in the stadium seemed to care much about the contest. Everybody was glued to the TV to see the result of the Redskins game.
And then, the door opened. Where there is usually a silhouette and a backlight, there was total darkness. A shadow … Read more »
You might call this a Brush by Fame, or a Fame Whiff (as in completely missing the target).
In the late '90s, I had just moved to New York and started working at _Jane_ magazine. Jane Pratt, the editor, used to have a quasi-famous birthday-party bash (she may still, for all I know). Being a lowly copy editor, I didnâ€™t have the casual access to the glitterati that most … Read more »
At a party on the deck of my flat, I was talking with a Japanese woman who mentioned she was in a band. â€œReally? Which band?â€ I asked. â€œBuffalo Daughter,â€ she said.
Freaking out that I was talking to Sugar, I impolitely pointed at her and stuttered, "You're...you're...you're the lead guitarist, right?!" It was then that I smothered her with praise, telling her how much I admired the fact … Read more »
People like to complain about the Rolling Stones—how old they are to be rock stars, how often they tour, and how much money they make. But I love them. I have been a devoted fan since I was a teenager in the sixties.
In 1994, the Stones came to Atlanta. They were on their Voodoo Lounge tour; I was working as a registered nurse for a local urologist.
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Boy George gave me his number at a skate party.
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