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Bill Harris is drawn to unlikely collections. Two years ago Los Angeles magazine featured his trove of personal checks written by everyone from Marilyn Monroe to Charles Bronson.
The house atopa Glassell Park ridge floats like a flag, its facade emblazoned with stripes of orange and blue. Owner Mark Vallianatos and architect Jeremy Levine say the colors were inspired by an abstract expressionist show they attended at the Norton Simon Museum. But they’re also a reference to sun and rain, the “good stuff from the sky,” says Val-lianatos
Los Angeles has long been a city packaged and sold by its boosters. From 1900 to 1930, the population ballooned from 100,000 to 1.2 million, and behind that expansion was a sustained branding strategy built around the mystique of a single item: the orange.
Change of Habit (1969): Elvis Presley is a physician who uses hugs to cure a girl with “autistic frustration.” ›› Elvis as Dr. John Carpenter, in Change of Habit: “No more toys, baby. You got to learn to start loving people. I’m going to hold you until you get rid of all your hate. So you get as mad as you can.”
In your memoir, Not My Boy!, you write about how you sank into a state of denial so deep when your son R.J. was diagnosed with autism that it almost wrecked your marriage with actress Holly Robinson Peete. Do you think fathers have a hard time accepting that their child is autistic
Proceeds are donated to One Voice, which helps low-income families.Dates for the biannual clearance (the other one’s in August) are announced in January.Children’s clothes and antique furniture are among the items up for grabs.
This “compliment” is absurd to me. I realize it’s intended to make me feel better. After all, people assume I’ll be thrilled to know that my daughter passes for “normal.” But every time I hear this statement I can’t help thinking “Normal? Oh, God, I hope not!”
In Italy a limonaia is the room where lemon trees are stored for the winter. World traveler Jessica Goldfarb loved the idea of a sanctu- ary for the fragrant greenery. her shop is a haven for handcrafted gifts from far-flung lands
Crash! I startle awake. It’s 1:30 a.m., and I don’t know where I am: crammed into a small space, still wearing my clothes, my arm asleep. Another thump, followed by maniacal laughter. I realize I’m on the top bunk in my boys’ room. “Computer, please! Computer, please!” my nine-year-old son, Aidan, gleefully shouts, catapulting through the air in his pajamas
With a diagnosis comes denial, anger, even despair. But you are wasting time if you don’t move swiftly through the grieving stages toward acceptance. The earlier the therapeutic intervention—before your child’s brain circuitry becomes more resistant to rewiring—the better.
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