Los Angeles Stories by Ry Cooder

“Night was coming on. The wind blew fine-grained dust off the hills and down the main drag, which was empty of people and cars at that time of day. Everyone was hunkered down with their chicken-fried steaks and mashed potatoes. We walked in the direction of the bowling alley. The sky went from orange to red to purple, and the dust and paper trash swirled around our feet. ‘That wasn’t a very good party,’ Joyce said.”

-Ry Cooder, 2011