Venice, California, is technically part of the City of Los Angeles. But, in reality (or is it fantasy?), it exists as an altered state of mind, altered by the sun, the surf, the extraordinary diversity of its people. Walk down the street, and you'll see anyone and everyone: movie stars, muscle beach rats, nodded out junkies, tourists, Jewish grandmothers, and maybe even yourself in an alternate universe. I lived there from 1975 through 1978. If this stuff didn't really happen, it should have (or could have).
The Man Who Lived Under the House
Our Dog Has More Friends Than We Do
Roller Skating Comes to Venice