I was sitting in a small, soundproof studio in New York, doing one of those long-form podcast interviews where the host really wants to get under the skin…

The Malibu sun was beating down on the dry brush of the canyon, casting long, jagged shadows across the gravel path. Gary stood by the trailhead, squinting against…

The studio was quiet, the kind of heavy silence that only settles when two people realize they are the last ones left in the room who remember the…

The air in the restaurant was cool, a sharp contrast to the memory of the dry, dusty heat of the Malibu mountains that lived in their bones. Loretta…

The interviewer leaned back, his headset glowing blue in the dim studio light. “Mike,” he said, “everyone knows the chemistry on MAS*H was legendary. But there had to…

The world knew him as the man who brought a touch of the Ivy League to a dusty field hospital in Korea. David Ogden Stiers possessed a voice…

The restaurant was too bright, and the music was a little too loud for a Tuesday evening. But in the corner booth, the world had narrowed down to…

I was sitting in a small, sound-dampened studio recently, doing one of those long-form podcasts where the host really wants to get under the skin of the “Golden…

The sun in the Malibu hills still has that same biting, unforgiving heat it did forty years ago. Loretta Swit shaded her eyes, looking out over the dry,…