Welcome to Our Home

Welcome

Welcome to our home, Acorn Hill. Acorn Hill was built for a Great Man nearly two hundred years ago. Most people see the house as a monument to him; its columns uphold his legacy, the tall…

The Weather

The Challenge

Yesterday, Evan wrote that he sympathized with the challenge facing me in this task of writing creatively about the weather from a place with a climate as famously uneventful as Los Angeles’s: here, we barely have…

Concrete Jungle

Stevens Square Park

The two and a half acres of Stevens Square Park are home to a few dozen oaks well over a century old, a pergola, a playground, a basketball hoop, a pump-handled well—also almost a century old—and,…

The Weather

Weather. Or not.

Five years ago, whenever a friend asked me why I’d given up on LA, it was obvious where the clichés ended and an actual opinion began: I hated the people, the prices, the traffic, the weather—…

The New Kroger

Introductions

Dear Reader, This legend is a key to the formatting used throughout to indicate topics that will be expanded in future columns, and that those terms mean something more than how they appear: Underlined = vestigial racial…

Interviews

Rebecca Makkai

It was so perfect, it felt written: my used copy of Rebecca Makkai’s charming debut novel turned out to be a laminated library one, wearing a sticker (F for Fiction; below that: MAKKAI, R) on the…

Song of the Adjunct

Panic Attack

Because mine is a commuter school, I’ve come to expect a fair amount of tardiness. Many of my students live more than an hour from New Orleans. They drive in from towns called Geismar and Westwego…

Love and Sensitivity

I Got a Woman

Sometimes I call my woman, “Woman.” Sometimes her girlfriends call her, “Girl,” but she is not a girl. She is a woman. Only sometimes do I quote Billy Madison and say, “Don’t tell me my business,…