By Susan Marque
I
t was the way he told the story, or how I was folded into him when he told
it. He could make the worst of things sound romantic. His hippy days of
living sparsely, doing street theatre, and fighting for things he believed in,
made for good stories. He seemed wise and worldly. He didn’t play the
guitar or panhandle anymore. His hair was shorter. Instead of renting an1
empty flat on the upper west side of Manhattan, he now owned his own
home, and worked in children’s television in Los Angeles. He knew about
everything – except making food.
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THE CONE - ISSUE #5 - SUMMER 2015