I Want to Live on an Alphabet Street

Avenue A or B or C — it doesn’t matter. I want to live on an alphabet street. Gimme an F, G or H.

Sesame Street is somehow to blame, I think. It filled my head with brownstones and boulevards, small streets, and riding a bike to the store.

I’m not far — about two miles (maybe three) and at least two-hundred Gs. But what I can get is a bike.

Getting to Know Me (All About Me)

I wanted to start an all girls’ punk band called “Epstein’s Mother,” and, yes, I am old enough to remember ‘Welcome Back, Kotter.’

I’ve been writing books (I started with manila paper and crayon) since age four. (My brother would tell you my tattling skills — he calls it tattling, I call it creative storytelling – started much earlier. I’m sort of a prodigy.) I am also a hula hooping savant. I’m the Rain Man of hula hooping. I need to parlay that into some sort of paid gig. Hey, if you build it, they’ll come…right? That’s what they say in all the movies…