My mom and dad are New Yorkers who left the tenement streets of the Bronx and came to Los Angeles when 'West Side Story' was real. They have the scars to prove it.
My mom and dad are New Yorkers who left the tenement streets of the Bronx and came to Los Angeles when 'West Side Story' was real. They have the scars to prove it.
I think people are obsessed with their pets because pets don't speak. It's that simple. After you hang up the phone, you never hear a dog say, 'You're a liar, and you are making the same self-sabotaging mistakes that have kept you single for far too long.'
In Beverly Hills, around 3 P.M. on Bedford Drive, a strange rite occurs. All the men and women who have had facial surgery leave the their surgeons and walk up and down the street bandaged like mummies in Prada, waiting for their loved ones to pick them up.
Latin people love to dance. Nothing is more powerful than a Latin man doing 'Mambo Number 5' by himself.
Latin people love to dance. Nothing is more powerful than a Latin man doing 'Mambo Number 5' by himself.
I'm savoring being in California every minute, learning that traffic is just God's way of saying 'Hi.'
For a long time, I lived in West Hollywood and watched young gay men strolling through life having no idea what came before. They didn't know about the riots at Stonewall, the vice squad, the raids.
I personally won't have anything live in my house that can't move the car on street-sweeping day or grate carrots. Plus, I don't mind being talked to harshly. I want to be challenged by something more complex than a Wheaton terrier.
I've always loved silent movies. I recently saw 'Tilly's Punctured Romance' at the Academy, which is the first comedy made with Charlie Chaplin in 1914, and I sat there, and I couldn't believe that the entire audience of 2,000 people were laughing that hard from a movie made in 1914 - and there were no words; it was all faces.
Our family business was operating batting cages. The pitching machine spit out the balls at lightning speed. Don Drysdale, Sandy Koufax. Whitey Ford. 50 cents for 12 pitches. Of course, my mother ran the place, and I was her slave: selling candy, hosing down the street, and the most dreaded of all jobs, feeding the pitching machine with balls.
I am getting to that age where I am too old to play the boy next door and too young to play Uncle Fester.
I personally won't have anything live in my house that can't move the car on street-sweeping day or grate carrots. Plus, I don't mind being talked to harshly. I want to be challenged by something more complex than a Wheaton terrier.
My father became the Mayor of Indian Wells, California, a tony desert enclave of rich, conservative Republicans.