Tag Archives: nightclubs

The Autumn of our Discontent

My flight swooped in over the San Gabriel Mts. at a little past four that afternoon. We glided over the flat LA basin, kissed the tops of the high rise buildings bordering the 405 and dropped into John Wayne Airport. The whole area was in the middle of a heat wave. Ninety degrees in the middle of October. As dry as a bone and as dangerous as a tinderbox. Christ. It was turning into the Kalahari Desert. And you tell me there’s no such thing Read More +

I’m Already in Bondage, Thank You

Excerpt one from my young chick novel in progress, When Men Become Civilized   My girlfriend Kate kept going on and on about that book. And now the movie too. She wanted to get a dungeon or something. “Kate, that is so stupid.” “Why? Brett’s into it. Everybody’s into it these days.” I screamed. “No, I’m not into it.” Kate shrugged. “So, what about you?! What do you want?!” “I’m just curious, okay?” Kate was glued to a rerun of 2 Broke Girls and getting Read More +

If Not Yet Civilized

Excerpt two from my young chick novel in progress, When Men Become Civilized   Unable to sleep, I propped myself up in bed with my I-pad and typed in a search.   How to get away with murder.   Well, maybe it would be best if I didn’t go down that road. No way to tell if someone was watching, but probably. I tried the phrase ‘empowering women’ instead and oddly enough, this quote by Gertrude Stein came up.   “If a man is not Read More +

Autumn Leaves

I pulled into the High & Dry alone that autumn evening. Words like brisk, harvest, red and gold and autumn leaves were dancing in my head. The Indian summer was finally behind us. Halloween and Jack o Lanterns were in the air. Bill the bartender nodded to me as I sat down. A cocktail napkin appeared on the bar top. “The usual,” I said. He went to work. Bill the bartender, I thought as he drew me a club soda. Bill had that look of Read More +

A Friday Night

I stepped into the High & Dry about six o’clock that Friday evening, wondering who had dreamed this up. The weekend escape. The cycle of the moon drawn and quartered into its four portions, with a couple of days left over to forget. The laughter and tinkling of glasses quickened my heart the minute I walked in through the door. The chimes of our species true destiny were calling up ahead. A doll, perhaps, or some old friends and a hi ho. Like Christmas, everywhere Read More +

It’s Good To Be Dead

Hard to believe it’s been over three years since all those murders went down. Even harder to believe that Vanderhof basically walked, but he did. As he had said, that’s why they have attorneys, my friend—in his case, a stable of them, high priced, ruthless and feasting on technicalities. Once those boys blew a hole in the handling of the DNA, the case fell apart and the judge had no choice but to let Vanderhof off, at least when it came to Connie McPherson’s death. Read More +

The Close Of The Renaissance

  In the winter of that year, I fell into a whirlwind romance with this Irish-Italian gal named Gina. With her long black hair and dark eyes, she would have struck you as being Italian, long before the Irish ever came to mind. With her temper, she could have been either one. I can’t say it was love at first sight. The night we met in a bar, she came off as being somewhat frumpy to me —a bit overweight and dressed like she was Read More +