It all began with a tooth. Beginning of June. Cracked a filling. The only filling I have. My dentist, whom I adore because she loves to cuss and talk politics, holds a q-tip drenched in something so cold it’s smoking in front of her face and in her thick Iranian accent warns, “I’m going to…
Abbot Kinney
The partner LOVES crowds. I don’t. If we both get blown to smithereens in some random terrorist bombing you know who to blame. The annual Abbot Kinney Street Festival in Venice, so named for a famous conservationist, has been a part of the local scene since God was, like, nine. And I’d never been. For…