Tag Archives: home again

Chorus

I barely moved until the last song, a Spanish-language version of “Do It,” played, and then there was the sound of the needle hitting the end and I jerked reflexively before realizing that this was a tape of the vinyl. I hit rewind and sat up. I swung my feet over the edge of the […]

PART FOURTEEN: December 1990: Love Shack

I went home. To Allston, I mean. But as I may or may not have established before, I’m terrible at being home. The problem with defining one’s self by what you DO instead of by where you’re FROM is that home becomes this really fraught concept… Maybe I shouldn’t generalize. Maybe it’s only like that […]

It Ain’t What You Do, It’s the Way That You Do It

Carynne, it turned out, had been talking to Christian a lot. And Lacey. After her collapse in LA, Lacey had gone through a rehab almost as intense at Ziggy’s, but at a less famous place, because–get this–her mother didn’t like how many paparazzi photos she saw in the tabloids of other celebrities leaving Betty Ford. […]

Call Me

Colin was waking me up gently, nudging me and saying my name in a soft voice. My first thought was that something terrible had happened and so he was trying to be gentle to me, to break it to me softly. But no. He was just being kind.

Suddenly, Last Summer

Bart had to be on the Vineyard early the next day for some family get-together so I took Amtrak back to Providence. From the train I could see a lot of the green nothing between cities, ragged thunderclouds trailing gray rain in the sunny July sky. When I arrived the pavement was wet but the […]