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 I STEAL A MATCHBOOK FROM MARILYN MONROE/PART SIX THE SECRET OF THE CRYPTIC MATCHBOOK  Chapels are filling. Mourners are milling. Rabbis are chafing. Patience is waning. Thoughts turn to the lox and bagels, the chopped liver and pickled herring--the rugelach and Russian coffee cake that await the...
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I STEAL A MATCHBOOK FROM MARILYN MONROE/PART FIVE I TAKE MARILYN TO THE SECRET PLACE   She's Marilyn Monroe. But she has to go. We have twenty funerals today. The Miller mourners have departed, leaving wisps of smoke, gum wrappers and crushed dixie cups. Now the reposing room has to be turned over...
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I BUY A TOE TAG FOR MARILYN/PART THREE  Hollywood has names for them. The "double-takers" --the ones who look familiar so you look again and still can't remember their names. The "isn't that," or "wasn't he in" celebrities. I'll learn those categories in a life to...
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I STEAL A MATCHBOOK FROM MARILYN MONROE/PART TWO/THAT ARTHUR MILLER? WHO KNEW? It's 1961. I'm only 18, but my black deeds are mounting. I win an $800 scholarship for high scores on the State Board of Regents exams. I tell my parents I'll use it for text books and a new typewriter, but my...
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I STEAL A MATCHBOOK FROM MARILYN MONROE/PART ONE/THE HORNY AND THE DEAD It's 1961 and Brooklyn isn't cool yet. It's still a tributary, sending stenographers and piece workers across the bridge to mother Manhattan. Where colorful locals "tawk like dis" and mourn their departed Dodgers...
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STEALING FROM THE DEAD It's 1961 and the CIA has decided to ruin my life. It wasn't enough that they created Islamic fundamentalism to overthrow the Government of Iran, provoked, funded and then ignored insurrections in Eastern Europe, slipped LSD to unsuspecting dissidents, destroyed democracy...