Miller Time

UNITED STATES—There are the two neighbors on either side of my house who suffer travelmania. There is the couple who went to Tokyo on the right side and, on the left, lives the couple who went to Dubai. That was just the last of a necklace of exotic destinations that are all a blur, Paris, Hawaii, Lisbon, Australia, Chile. The...

UNITED STATES—Mac Murphy got out of the honor camp near Baker, in the high Mojave, and came to take one last look at his upstairs room with the window bay, where he’d imbibed during Christmas, toasted us in the driveway, and cranked up his stereo like he was driving a hundred miles down a Montana highway straight as a...

UNITED STATES—During one of the breaks at the Census Office, I’d go around the corner of Manchester and read the National Enquirer. One week it broke the news that Tony Perkins was dying of AIDS and the story mentioned that he had turned very devout, conspicuously attending church in Beverly Hills with his family. Part of what struck a chord...

UNITED STATES—It amazes me how much time’s vortex can pack into a single afternoon. At that first meeting of the Spanish cultural club, where we brought our songs, poems, paintings and stories, I found the job I’d been groping for for months, as I scraped by on free room and no board. At the very end a black-haired woman, dressed...

UNITED STATES—Samuel Johnson, the British wit and man of letters, said that he never knew a man with a toothache to be a philosopher. Well, this concept I tested now and then during my time at 1980 Estrella Avenue. I suffered periodic molar aches and would just tough it out. They seemed to come and pass like rain clouds....

UNITED STATES—You wake up and you’re in this place where the clouds are all cottony as they glide across an achingly blue sky. Kinda like the over-the-top monumentality of the Paramount logo or the more subdued Warner Bros. Then you come to some Corinthian columns like they had at the Old Spaghetti Factory, before it was turned into a...

UNITED STATES—Back at the rooming house the pressure was on to get some scratch. Of course my teen horror screenplay, “The Persecuted” was floating out there, and that was my insurance policy. Meanwhile free room and the wageless position of manager kept me always open and seeking. That openness, defined as chronic mild curiosity coupled with being able to...

UNITED STATES—Astonishing how things blossomed after joining the Spanish-language theater group. After one of the group's rehearsals Rafael, the director, invited me to check out a new cultural group. He gave me a street number on Vermont Avenue that I scribbled on a scrap of paper. They were meeting the next Saturday afternoon. Bring something to read, Rafael said. I...

UNITED STATES—I have it easy now as this memoir progresses: the diary picks up, following the finish of my screenplay. “The Persecuted” is on its way to my screenwriter friend who is a big shot now and fame and fortune is about to roll my way. January 30, 1990 makes mention of a Mr. Stokely Reed, a record producer,...

UNITED STATES—The hell with cleaning, I say. One of the traits of genius is being oblivious to a mess. What can be really phenomenal, though, is periodically going through stuff. Going through stuff is a hedge against panic when assaulted by: where is it? The keys! The remote! The documents! Something missing really upsets the apple cart in this Petri...