Remembering the Art of Gathering
If you look at map of Los Angeles, you’ll see where I used to live on Kittyhawk Avenue is in close proximity the airport. There was a hide-a-key near the back door. If you knew me, or knew someone who knew me, you were welcome to stay— on the couch if I was in town, or in the bedroom if I was out of town.
If you stayed more than two nights, compensation was a bottle of wine or bourbon. That included epic breakfasts if I didn’t have an early call time on any given morning.
Another quality of my place was the lack of street cleaning restrictions. Many of my friends would plan their departure…
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