Counting For Thunder

Thank God I’d had a second cup of coffee so I could see the cars ahead of me, all twenty-five of them, screeching to a halt.  I could already make out the man, disheveled, maybe homeless, holding a bottle of beer with one hand and the railing of the overpass above us with the other. …

My first day on my first job in LA began disastrously.  The coke-snorting manager of the high—end-ish restaurant where we all dressed like pirates took me into the kitchen to meet the chef.  His name was Sal.  He was African-American, well over six feet tall.  He nodded, carving something big, juicy and pink with a…

So overwhelming.  Everything.  Like we need one gigantic miracle after another to give us some sort of light at the end of the lockdown tunnel.  A gigantic miracle that never seems to come.  “You know how the South Koreans did so well with the corona?  Kimchee.  They put it up their noses.  Worth a try, …

I woke up knee deep in another day of the apocalypse and decided to make another list.  Because I know the vast majority of people are waiting to see what it is I’m going to say/do about a particular thing before they do it.  So see attached in no particular order: We’re all currently, in…

It was over so fast I wasn’t even sure it happened.  I was at the window at the bank.  There had been no line.  I was separated from the teller by a ceiling-high sheet of glass.  I noticed an industrial-strength can of Lysol on the counter next to her.  In the nanosecond between the time…

The text that began my day read:  “Please dear God tell me you’re still alive.” My friend Kim from back home.  “Lord,” I’m thinking, “what natural California disaster have I missed this time?  Earthquake? Fire? Kale shortage?”  You get these sort of texts often in our wonderful/volatile state. But the next one proved even more…

“There’s mud up there in the rainy season,” I hear myself saying.  “And lots of it.  So from now on, you’re driving us and that’s that.”  Anyone who buys a new car knows the drill for the first few weeks – park a block away at the market, no eating in the vehicle, get it…

I’m not a drug addict.  I mean, not a professional one.  You won’t find me in a burned-out Hollywood building waiting for some ne-er do well to bring my next red chicken fix. And even though most of the crowd I ran with in high school thought pot was the greatest thing ever, it always…

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…