Los Angeles.

That’s my answer when someone asks where I am from. But it’s never good enough.

WHERE in Los Angeles?

Shit.

I hedge and lower my usual loud voice to a whisper.

“Beverly Hills.”

“You were born and raised there?! Did you know famous people?”

Never fails. EVER. Nor the feeling I was hatched and landed on an alien nation.

I was, however, born in the Hollywood Good Samaritan Hospital to a stunning mother. And Duke, my multi-talented, manic-depressive, alcoholic,(gave it up for) pill-popping, hard-working, producer, director father, who proudly carried and shared photo’s of his “six beautiful daughter’s.”

And yes. I did, and do, know ‘famous’ people. Friends with whom I went to grammar and high school. Their parents. Many long gone. Some of my dearest friends dead. Painful. Heartbreaking. Suicides. Addictions. Others struggled, recovered, and found the pride of sobriety. Many of us have gone onto to be successful. Very. In and out of the Film or Music “industry.”

This is my avenue for stories of my family and those who were, and continue to be, a part of my life. The life and place I left behind.

The one I abashedly call. Home.