Author Archives: A garrett renter on Welbeck St.

Scene: Mick’s bar, late morning Enter Ella, Phil, and Zack from the swinging exterior doors, stage left. Ella: Mick? Mii-iick! Where you at? Miiick? Hunh. He’s usually up by now. Enter Mick, also through the swinging doors, stage left: Ella, what’s up? You don’t need to shout, I’m right here. Back already? Ella: Hunh? Sorry,Continue reading “Act II, Scene 1”

I was walking my son to school the other day, when my son pointed to a holiday decoration on the neighbor’s house and said, “Daddy? What’s that?” I was struck so dumb I couldn’t speak, not least because one of the renters of that house — a butchishe woman of the “wait, which boy bandContinue reading “Misfired irony, “honest” nostalgia, or racist trash?”

Scene: a wharf on the edge of town. Enter the Man From Chicago, Zack, and Phil. Zack is carrying a briefcase. MFC: Ah, the perfect spot. [turning to Phil]. What the hell’s this rig you’ve brought? Phil: Sir? MFC: We’re not fishing for marlin, boy. What in the name of Christ Jesus do you needContinue reading “Act I, Scene 2”

Dramatis Personae: Felipe (“Phil”) Lorenzo Mariano Cunanan Villareal, foreman of a large Delta ranch Eleanora (“Ella”) Villareal (nee Soares), his wife Mick, proprietor and bartender, Mick’s bar Sheriff James, the Sheriff Dusty Page, gangster’s moll and sometime chanteuse. If possible, she should effect a trace of a southern accent. The Man from Chicago, Dusty’s sponsorContinue reading “Act I, Scene 1”

I take walks with my dog at night. Walks eastward, or westward, which is longer. Sometimes southward, though never too far. Sometimes, when I’m feeling ambitious, south and then west, making a large loop of the grid. Never northward, though — or at least, never north of the levee, as there lies dangers. My nightlyContinue reading “The night flaneur”

Sometimes you just have to get away for a day or so. I ostensibly have a real engagement tomorrow, up here in the wilds of Northern California. A sub-committee meeting of the commune to which I belong. An event that, if all goes well, will be as boring as all sub-committee meetings ever and alwaysContinue reading “Fine dining in Superior California”

So, the Didion estate sale was this week. It was, according to New York magazine (actually in two different sections, natch), the Paris Review, the LA Times, hell even the fecking Guardian, a somewhat astonishing frenzy-blend of hagiography, money, envy, and feminism. Did I bid on something? Yes. Was I prepared to pay even aContinue reading “The Veblenesque orgy of the estate sale”

You’re sitting at home, and there’s nothing to drink — because your spouse took the last of box white up to bed — so you break out the limoncello and have it with soda water? You know that time? You know that lemony taste that you only get with certain very specific brands of chocolateContinue reading “You know that time when…”

We went to visit my parents this weekend. They live on a hippie commune in what could generously be described as “timber country” but should more accurately be termed “methland.” Our time there was on-brand. We drove three hours so that we could sit around in an apple orchard, eat fabulous cheese and partake ofContinue reading “Further adventures in far Northern California”

I have, basically, recovered. My spouse is sick, however. And my younger son coughed a little and complained of a headache after dinner. My parents are white-water rafting in Oregon at the moment, along with a cousin and my niece and nephew. There being no cell service, there is perforce no comfort or advice toContinue reading “Day 3 of isolation”