I hadn't heard from my stalker in a while. He had the usual questions—where are you and are you alone and so on—and I recited my usual evasions as I lurked around the house, pulling on a sweatshirt and turning off lights and looking sideways out windows and locking doors. I didn't like that my stalker stalked me, but I am not so ingrate that I cannot admit that there was something soothing about being stalked by the same stalker for over twenty years. It was the only continuous thing in my life other than me, so it served as a kind of company, a kind of marriage.
I hadn't heard from my stalker in a while. He had the usual questions—where are you and are you alone and so on—and I recited my usual evasions as I lurked around the house, pulling on a sweatshirt and turning off lights and looking sideways out windows and locking doors. I didn't like that my stalker stalked me, but I am not so ingrate that I cannot admit that there was something soothing about being stalked by the same stalker for over twenty years. It was the only continuous thing in my life other than me, so it served as a kind of company, a kind of marriage. The best-selling whiskies from Scotland might be blends, but single malts better speak to a distillery's character. Sweater, puffers, and jeans are the stars of this sale. In 1995, at the opening night of Planet Hollywood on Rodeo Drive, every celebrity you could imagine was there. It was the hottest ticket in town. ABC aired a special event, Planet Hollywood Comes Home. The cops shut down the street. All this for a chain restaurant that served chicken coated in Cap'n Crunch. And not just a chain restaurant but a theme restaurant. A Rainforest Cafe with celebrities. It seems unfathomable now that stars would go along with this. By the start of the next decade, the enterprise would collapse, falling into bankruptcy twice, and the bold-faced names who reveled there would begin to walk away. Today, there's a tendency among the stars involved to be overcome with sudden amnesia. It seems they'd rather we all just forget about the whole thing. This is the untold story of the ultimate collaboration between A-list celebs and overpriced appetizers. A creation only the nineties could give us. Eric Huang's pop-up has an 8,000-person waitlist. Now, the Eleven Madison Park alum is wondering why he ever chased Michelin-star greatness in the first place. After he died, our regular foursome, down one man, took his ashes to Pinehurst No. 2 to play the course he loved and say goodbye. The mounting emergencies of the modern world—suicides, homelessness, climate disasters— are now prevalent in America's most beautiful places: its wilderness parks. The rangers who care for them wonder how long they can last. Welcome to the front lines of the new great outdoors. |
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