State Street Scribe by Jeff Wing Yeah, baby. You’ve probably seen me promenading about this American Riviera in my ill-advisedly tight black tee-shirt and ancient Chuck Taylors, strutting down State […]
Hair Today
My Name is Jeff, and I Use Unconscionably Oblique Verbiage
State Street Scribe by Jeff Wing “Writer’s Conference”. This horror-term is enough to break the spirit. Whisper these two little words to the most intransigent prisoner in the joint and […]
Califorbearance and You
State Street Scribe by Jeff Wing So I finally checked my privilege. What do you think happened? That’s right; they threw it onto the wrong plane and it ended up […]
Caroline, Yeah: A Concert Journal
State Street Scribe by Jeff Wing 6:30p – Brian Wilson, our own acid-washed Beethoven and an older man now, is touring his misbegotten Pet Sounds album for the last time. […]
There’s A Bright Golden Haze on the Meadow
State Street Scribe by Jeff Wing So I get a message from my pal Eddie. Our high school reunion is coming up in October. Did I get the e-mail announcement? […]
Where Were You in ‘82? An Oral History of Santa Barbara Clubland’s Age of Enlightenment
State Street Scribe by Jeff Wing Santa Barbara. The American Riviera. Selfie-by-the-Sea. Our natty little village goes by many names and has, over time, worn many guises, from Spanish colonial […]
War and Peace and Juliane
State Street Scribe by Jeff Wing When Juliane Heyman and her parents and brother walked up into the Pyrenees Mountains one night, the object was not a moonlit picnic in […]
The Tail-Gunner’s Gift : John Holman’s Picaresque Odyssey Down Under
State Street Scribe by Jeff Wing In the turbulent weeks before D-Day—the massive allied coastal invasion that heralded the beginning of the end of WWII—a Royal Air Force Stirling bomber […]
Alice Keck Park Memorial Garden – The Eden That Oil Built
State Street Scribe by Jeff Wing In the very heart of our domed Xanadu-by-the-Sea, there exists a publicly beloved green idyll; a sun-dappled shire of exotic flora laced by twisty […]
Youth Culture Killed My dog
State Street Scribe by Jeff Wing The interview was going better than I could have hoped. The 30-something kid had taken a shine to me—a real shine. “Well…” he said, […]