“So, what happened in France? Why won’t you talk about it?” I asked Rick, as we were walking down Second Avenue toward a trendy health-food restaurant called Eats. We were on our way to lunch, and of course I was paying. Rick owned a compact laser video disk player and plenty of top-quality movies on laser disk, traveled a lot and ate at some of the finest restaurants in Manhattan, but he was always broke. After eating out with the actors for several years, I had just learned to double the price of any meal. (continue reading…)

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In my 10 years of living there, New York had failed to mug me, run me down, or throw me in front of an onrushing subway train.  The only thing it had successfully done to me was break my heart.   Now its cold skeletal claws were reaching up through Connecticut and trying to drag me back down from Boston.  I could feel its bony fingers wrapping themselves around me, one by one. (continue reading…)

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