Under the red glow of a stop light, Emily crying now, her lower lip stretched wide with sobs that crackled out soundless before she drew another breath, Liz Phair cut out with a tap and the cell-phone-static rattle of synthetic drums of the top-forty station came brushing across the car speakers instead. It was alright, I tried to convince myself, dotting a little bead of a tear from the corner of my eye. Progress was only slightly impeded. I couldn’t have everything back at once. Some things would require a little work.
I had a perfectly good reason for giddily crawling into my attic space behind the guestroom closet in my underwear and athletic socks at the crack of dawn as my nearly three-year-old Emily waited backlit in the squat doorway. Of course, Emily had no idea what that perfectly good reason could possibly be. The pacifier I’d meant to wean her off of at least a year ago, but couldn’t muster the tough love required for doing so, made a full rotation in her mouth like magic (learning to do tricks with pacifiers is the seventy-eighth sign that it’s time to give it up, right after seventy-seven at which point it starts to carry on lengthy conversations with toddler in the middle of the night).
Poetry, fiction and drama from the shaking like a mountain players including Peter Covino, R.A. Stovetop Lawson, Jo-Ann Reid, Scott Duhamel, Nailah Randall-Bellinger, Wayne Cresser and others.
“No one became a rock star by accident or against their will,” Goldberg writes. They may be artists, but they wanted to make money and it maddened him when he couldn’t help all he loved to do that.
How much did he owe him? Four years into their partnership, Tommy James hired an accountant who calculated that Levy owed James close to 40 million dollars. When Levy threatened to introduce the accountant to the local fish population, James had to back down. “Aaron (the accountant-edt.) had a family. It was over.”