Memoir

Home Security

Watching TV one afternoon, Audrey and I were startled by a loud crack, like someone slapping the side of our house with a sheet of plywood, immediately followed by a motorcycle roaring away. Audrey got up…

LA Stories

Skatepunk Garrison Keillor

“It comes in waves,” Michael Silverblatt tells me. We’re standing next to the new releases section in The Last Bookstore in downtown Los Angeles, a former early twentieth century bank that has been ecstatically retrofitted into…

Memoir

Inches

You’d have to know exactly where to look on the field to spot me. Not only did I keep my helmet on, but I knew where to hide from spectators. I had no other choice; my…