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The Fires and The Dirt

On Tuesday, January 7, 2025, Los Angeles began to burn.   I parked in Santa Monica, doing my dog walking routine. There were smoke clouds in the hills of the Palisades. Little did I know the fire had just birthed. When I drove to the following location, I saw mountains of pale pink-grey smoke in the rearview mirror. The cotton candy clouds were monsterial; if such a word exists. I did not know how life-changing this would be.   A couple of hours later, I took the long way back to the San Fernando Valley, a pink-orange skyline on my left. Instead of getting on the 405 and barely moving for almost two hours, I took Sepulveda, passed through the tunnel, and continued listening to the audiobook version of Motley Crüe’s biography, The Dirt: Confessions of the World’s Most Notorious Rock Band .   The horror show continued when I got home. Tommy Lee had just done something disgusting, or maybe it was Vince Neil. Let’s not get started on Nikki Sixx. I parked the car and turned on...

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