My earliest birthday memories are no more than fragments: A Winnie the Pooh cake my aunt and my mother made for me; a two-layer cake with the Seven Dwarfs seated around its […]
212. No More of That Jazz
211. Two Years Ago the Seed Was Planted
Sinead O’Connor barely caught the tail end of the ’80s. I don’t mean the actual decade so much as the new wave/post punk/college radio vibe that defined my decade. When her debut […]
210. They Come With Smiles
Los Angeles at night borders on magical, especially for a small town southern boy: desert heat, lights, noise, busyness, the glowing sky. I dropped the top on my rattletrap convertible and soaked […]
209. Lessons Learned From an Oscar Winner
I need to backpedal a little bit, back to a year earlier when I was still wearing the black vest and name tag of Music Plus. The “Plus” was video: In the […]
208. We Love You, Pacific Ocean Blue
The Tales From the Crypt producers talked the still-infant Fox netwok into paying for a four episode pilot of a new series. This one would be named Two-Fisted Tales, and like its […]
207. We Go Round and Round and Round
Prince was in the building; well, hypothetically at least.
206. Drive-In Saturday
A little furniture and some pocket money didn’t really change anything. Every day Jody withdrew more deeply into some dark place where I wasn’t welcome. Lately I’d been finding scraps of paper […]
205. The Inevitable Death of the Cordoba
Early morning, and the back seat of Jody’s Cordoba was buried beneath reels of film in flat white boxes. I was fighting traffic, heading to a sound stage in Burbank where engineers […]
204. Sittin’ On Top of the World
John gave me a raise. Thanks to Tales From the Crypt I was now bringing home $500 per week, double what I made at Music Plus. Combined with Jody’s talent agency salary […]
203. Where’s Johnny?
“We could write one of these,” Michael said. “Do you think if we wrote a script you could get it to the producers?”
Why It Matters 