My therapists couldn’t agree if it’s autism or Asperger’s, but everyone agrees I’m different. And couldn’t consistently seem to end up in more dangerous situations – yet always, somehow, landing on my feet! At least so far!


Journey with me from the most abysmal and abject trenches of human addiction and squalor, to the red carpets and premieres and book expos and film fests and Oscar parties. Join with me in a journey from the sun-broasted mesquite plain, up through ironwood thickets and lilac/chamise chaparral, upwards through shrublands luxuriant with California laurel and western redbud and bigleaf maple and redolent California buckeye and tow’ring California sycamore and blue oaks and larger black oaks and churlish live oaks and alder and blue elderberry, up and ever up through the ancient, mid-elevation climax stands of sugar pine and incense cedar and white fir and sequiadendron giganteum, yielding to red fir and lodgepole pine and western white pine and limber pine and foxtail pine and whitebark pine and even a few mountain hemlocks, crossing the timberline and some late-lying snowdrifts, up and ever up, huffing and puffing, with the sun deepening in hues as it’s nearing it’s beddy-time, at last clambering unto the hallowed summit. Where there will be just yourself, myself, perhaps a ukelele (or golden lyre, if you prefer), and a MEEPing pika! (What up little dudito!?)


It’s a rich and phenomenal world, so why not journey with someone who genuinely knows the natural history? I only hope you brought a flashlight, ‘cause I sure didn’t!