Category Archives: Maybe he really loves her


We gathered at the Royal Flush, a crappy bar in what amounted to downtown Venice, LA.  The silent bartender pulled us up a table and the eight of us that were left—Helen, my mother and father, Faye, Drysdale, Monty, Cathy, and myself—gathered for what amounted to my wedding reception.  The pitchers of Abita began to […]