We’ve all lived in a terrible suburb. One that chafes the memory. Mine is deeply wound with Bolinas, California and a woman named Karen.
Soon, as it turns, I’ll be attending my own funeral. But before I get there, I know that I’ve outlived many. You especially, coach.
Amsterdam may have changed, but for me, it still is The Doors, drugs and a friend named Dave.
A recent brush with death taught me something. My age is catching up with me, but there are people far older than me. Worry about them.