The word is out: Gia Coppola has the gene. Francis Ford’s first grandchild has taken her place behind the camera (and on paper as screenwriter) on the independent film Palo Alto, based on James Franco’s book of short stories, and shown that this time, the apple fell very close to the tree.
With the Giants atop the National League West, and playing like the world champs of 2010 and 2012, all the chatter in the media is about Brandon Belt’s homers, Brandon Crawford’s extraordinary plays at short stop, the speed of Tim Lincecum’s fastball – and other such jockish preoccupations.
What no one in the media mentions, except in random unguarded moments, is the fact that they, as a team, are ridiculously, torridly, HOT.
It happened far too many times on the book tour. After a reading from my memoir about turning 50 as a single woman (Oh the places I’d gone! The adventures I’d had! The men I’d slept with!), I’d open the floor to questions from the predominantly female audience.
In addition to queries about writing, the publishing world, and the true names of my lovers, I could count on at least one from a 20- or 30-something, clutching her purse anxiously: “Um, can you tell me where I can go to meet guys in the Bay Area?”
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