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2001-09-06 || 5:14 p.m. || los angeles || in los angeles we are driving in the dark in a big car the color of the dark. if the windows weren't down you wouldn't be able to see us at all, just chrome and an old license plate. the three of us sit in the front seat. there are pointed fingers showing me movie studios. tv studios. the hot dog stand where the famous brad goes. the radio doesn't work. the engine is loud and sputtery like bumper boats. julie and i try to sing, thinking up all the songs making up the record grooves we used to watch go round and round and round, our chins resting in our hands, our knees in pink corduroy slacks bent and feet dangling. songs from 'annie' (they always made julie cry). girl scout songs. songs she sang in the talent show. we drive down old famous streets. we go to old famous bars. we drink too much and forget the points of our conversations. we walk on the sidewalk in silence. we are marvelling at how old we've gotten. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |