Reading...

You know (right?) that I love books of autobiographical essays written by "humorists." People like Dave Barry and Bill Bryson (whose new book about growing up in Des Moines in the '50's I just finished). I mean, I'm secretly hoping this blog will get "discovered" by some publisher who will offer me a quarter million bucks a year to vent in a widely-syndicated weekly column. (Though really, aside from mediocre trip reviews, how many salient observations have I actually posted? Writing, it seems, is HARD--and time-consuming, my excuse of the day for not posting more frequently.)

But I digress... Right now I'm reading Exile in Guyville by Dave White. He moved from Dallas to WeHo about a year before we made the big move from Kansas to the Bay Area. Even though I'm only through the first couple months of his life in L.A., I'm really enjoying it. He's got a great style.

In other news, Stan is continuing to recover from his neck surgery. He developed a little cold this week, so he's been snoring like a jackhammer, but I can definitely see him making recovery progress.