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Oh, You Rogue!

You can teach an old car new tricks. When I moved to Portland, I bought my first car: a perfect green (perfectly ugly) Rambler Rogue. I paid $1000 for a car that ran almost perfectly for years. I spoiled her faded, matronly body by plunging it into a small yellow truck in a residential intersection. [...]


My first Bogie period began in 1973, at Berkeley. It didn’t seem weird at the time, running around in Birkenstock’s and being crazy about that well-suited guy. I went through a lot of the oeuvre again at the beginning of the century (my, doesn’t that ooze with scope.) It’s amazing how different the cigarette smoke [...]