During my journeys today I happened to park directly in front of the very first apartment I lived in in los angeles. No, not the columned one with the big windows.
Look down the driveway. See the windows low to the ground? That’s a basement apartment. The one I shared with a man who would become a famous director. The one where we had a party where we invited so many strangers. The one where we painted in the walls, and my bed frame was made from milk cartons.
My first pad.
