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U.S. alpine skiing great Bode Miller is facing two misdemeanor drug charges following his arrest in Idaho earlier this month.

The actual drug involved and who possessed it isn’t clear, with Miller and the arresting officer providing different accounts of those details from the June 6 arrest in Fremont County.

The six-time Olympic medalist has implied he was arrested because, unbeknownst to him, his friend was carrying cannabis and a pipe while riding in a car Miller was driving. While legal in several states for recreation or medical use, cannabis remains illegal in Idaho.

“I was pulled over for accelerating while passing another vehicle on a highway in Idaho,” Miller, 48, said in a statement posted Tuesday on Instagram. “My friend, who was traveling with me, had a small amount of cannabis and a cannabis pipe in his possession which I was unaware of. We fully cooperated with the officer.”

Fremont County Sheriff’s Deputy Jacob Hurt wrote in a probable cause statement that he found Miller with a white dispensary bag containing 4.1 grams of psilocybin mushrooms (a.k.a. magic mushrooms or shrooms).

While illegal under federal law, psilocybin has been decriminalized in Colorado and Oregon for treatments, with some health advocates saying it can help ease anxiety, depression and post-traumatic stress disorder.

On June 12, Miller pleaded not guilty to possession of a controlled substance and possession of drug paraphernalia. Each charge carries a maximum sentence of one year in jail. A pretrial hearing is scheduled for July 29.

“I am hopeful the misdemeanor charges will be dropped once the facts are reviewed,” Miller said in his Instagram statement.

A five-time Olympic participant, Miller has won more medals than any other U.S. skier, including gold in the super combined at the 2010 Vancouver Games. He was the overall World Cup champion in 2005 and 2008 and won six World Cup discipline titles (three in combined, two in super-G, one in giant slalom).

The Associated Press contributed to this report.

Head coach Brendon McCullum said he remains “good friends” with England captain Ben Stokes and the pair have “no idea” why rumours of a rift have emerged.

The pair reunited on Tuesday for England’s crucial deciding Test against New Zealand after Stokes missed the second following an incident in a London nightclub.

Both McCullum and Stokes had previously denied their relationship was strained during the 4-1 Ashes defeat in Australia, and McCullum has faced questions about their partnership during Stokes’ absence.

At Trent Bridge, two days before the third Test against New Zealand, McCullum revealed the pair spoke face-to-face on Tuesday morning.

“I said: ‘Do you know where this has come from, the conversations around our relationship over the last six months?'” explained McCullum.

“He said: ‘No, I have no idea.’ I said to him: ‘As far I’m concerned, I consider you a good friend.'”

Stokes and pace bowler Gus Atkinson were made unavailable for England’s heavy defeat in the second Test during an investigation into a breach of the team’s midnight curfew following victory in the first Test at Lord’s.

They were present when a member of England security staff was struck by a Saracens rugby player.

Both have been cleared to rejoin the England team for the third Test, with Stokes returning as captain.

After England made five changes to their team for the second Test, Stokes and Atkinson are two of four changes for the third, as the home side move back towards the XI that won the first Test.

Spinner Shoaib Bashir and wicketkeeper Jamie Smith, who has been on paternity leave, also come back in. Ollie Robinson was man of the match at Lord’s but missed The Oval encounter with a knee problem. Robinson is fit, yet misses out as Jofra Archer keeps his place.

James Rew, Jordan Cox, Matthew Fisher and Sonny Baker are the four players omitted.

Two days before the second Test at The Oval, McCullum gave a sombre media conference, when he repeatedly spoke of his “worry” and “concern” for Stokes.

However, Durham’s county head coach Ryan Campbell later said Stokes was in “good spirits” and the county’s chief executive Tim Bostock said he was “bemused” by McCullum’s comments.

England XI for third Test v New Zealand: Ben Duckett, Emilio Gay, Jacob Bethell, Joe Root, Harry Brook, Jamie Smith, Ben Stokes (captain), Gus Atkinson, Jofra Archer, Josh Tongue, Shoaib Bashir.

When the gates opened at St. John’s Episcopal Church in San Bernardino on Good Friday, the music coming from inside wasn’t that of angel-faced choristers or pipe organs; it was the collective scream of electric guitars.

As the sky darkened over the white stucco church framed in palm trees and the dry peaks of the San Bernardino Mountains, fringed teenagers made their way inside, shaking their limbs and chattering in excitement. Fluorescent lights shone overhead in a room that, by day, hosted Bible studies and food pantries — that night, it would be the site of Spinkick Dance Hall, a regular underground music series where noses are bound to bleed and limbs to flail along to ear-splitting riffs.

It’s just one of many shows taking place from Pomona to Palm Desert, heralding a Latino-led youth revival where the freewheeling movement of mosh pits meets the raw power of punk rock: Inland Empire hardcore.

Teenagers congregate in front of St. John’s Episcopal Church in San Bernardino before the start of the night’s hardcore shows on April 3, 2026.

(Katerina Portela / Los Angeles Times)

As the fast-paced and anti-establishment genre known as punk went mainstream in the ’80s, a harder and more unhinged variant emerged in the States; bands like Bad Brains, Minor Threat and Black Flag pushed the limits of vocalization and instrumentation into dissonant new sounds that would make up the subgenre known as hardcore punk.

“As a teenager pre-social media, the music scene was the release for teen angst,” said music photojournalist Zach Cordner. “It was a convergence of nationwide bands that would come to play at [the now shuttered Riverside venue] Showcase Theater, and through word of mouth people got inspired to make cassettes and zines.”

Cordner and his friend Ken Crawford grew up in Riverside in the ’80s and ’90s, photographing the initial wave of hardcore punk taking shape in the Inland Empire. They turned these photographs into a sprawling exhibition held at the Riverside Art Museum earlier this year, “60 Miles East.”

“The scene looks a lot different today than it did in the ’90s,” Crawford said. “It’s browner, it’s queer, and that’s a good thing, to see how it’s become way more diverse.”

Inside the church, the frontman of all-Latino hardcore band Barrio Slam emitted rough growls as the crowd broke into a bustling mosh pit. Teenagers did pinwheel kicks, wrapped Mexican flags over their shoulders and filled the air with chants of “F— ICE.”

Lead vocalist Victor Campos’ family moved from Guadalajara, Mexico, to Pomona, where he says he discovered hardcore through friends. Then, at age 14, Campos attended his first rock show.

“That was the first time that I saw hardcore and metal and the heavier side of music for what it was, and the violence and culture of the shows just sucked me in and I’ve been in it ever since,” Campos said. “It felt like freedom.”

Angela, 19, was in the mosh pit during Load Tha Nine’s performance when she was accidentally struck in the nose by another concertgoer on April 3, 2026, in St. John’s Episcopal Church in San Bernardino. Hardcore shows are characterized by intense music and rough dancing where bloody accidents are not an uncommon sight.

(Katerina Portela / Los Angeles Times)

Jose Ruelas and his Barrio Slam bandmates headbang as they perform on April 3, 2026, in St. John’s Episcopal Church in San Bernardino.

(Katerina Portela / Los Angeles Times)

Campos credits local Latino-led bands like Xibalba and Harsh Reality as inspirations to dive into making music and embrace his identity in the genre.

“In the I.E., it’s really the norm. We’re singing in Spanish, we’re proud. But when we tour, we see it’s not like that everywhere,” Campos said. “Some people still consider punk ‘not for us.’ My own family members will say, ‘You’re listening to white people music.’”

The show at St. John’s is just the tip of the Inland Empire’s DIY venue iceberg. Living rooms, restaurant dining rooms, tattoo shops and record stores have transformed into hardcore venues across the region as established locales closed down.

San Bernardino four-piece “beatdown” group Big Ass Truck is one band that found success beyond the I.E. scene. They signed to Nuclear Blast Records, and at the time of our interview, they had just returned from a tour of Europe.

“With the I.E. especially, we lose a venue like every week. If we have a venue, it’s not staying around for long. I’ve personally seen like three or four venues [in the last few years] just call it,” said Big Ass Truck vocalist Abel Abarca. “So we do get scrappy, and I think that’s what sets the I.E. apart from places like L.A. and O.C.”

San Bernardino hardcore band Big Ass Truck performs a surprise concert at Creator Fest on May 2, 2026, at Creator Tattoo in Pomona.

(Katerina Portela / Los Angeles Times)

Izzy Leyva, 17, describes being met with an immediate “sense of welcoming” at her first DIY hardcore show.

“It’s nice finding people my age to talk about life with. You can start conversations so easily,” Leyva said. “Especially after moshing with someone in the crowd. If you’re struggling to make friends in school, you’ll be able to find someone here.”

She enters the mosh pit fearlessly, dodging flailing arms to two-step — a synchronized dance move that requires punching and running in place — unleashing her energy in the punk sanctum.

“I never feel like an outsider here,” Leyva added.

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1. Mauricio Rivera performs with his band Barrio Slam on April 3, 2026, in St. John’s Episcopal Church in San Bernardino. (Katerina Portela / Los Angeles Times) 2. Toni Feliz shows her “IE” tattoo, a nod to her hometown, at Creator Fest on May 2, 2026, at Creator Tattoo in Pomona. (Katerina Portela / Los Angeles Times) 3. Izzy Levya, 17, two-steps during Marked for Death’s performance on April 3, 2026, in St. John’s Episcopal Church in San Bernardino. (Katerina Portela / Los Angeles Times) 4. Fans dance and “two-step” during Barrio Slam’s performance on April 3, 2026, in St. John’s Episcopal Church in San Bernardino. (Katerina Portela / Los Angeles Times) 5. Andres Rodriguez, 18, moshes during Marked for Death’s performance on April 3, 2026, in St. John’s Episcopal Church in San Bernardino. (Katerina Portela / Los Angeles Times)

As 25-year-old Guatemalan American vocalist Jorge Cruz entered the show, he embraced his friends and bandmates. Cruz, who fronts the voracious hardcore band KnuckleSandwich, says he sees TikTok as a major platform for hardcore fans to find one another.

“I saw shows online and was hooked … I used to be so nervous to be in the mosh pit, I’d throw up outside. But when I got in there for the first time, I feel like it changed me into someone who was more comfortable in myself,” Cruz said. “It was like a baptism.”

His music, ranging from songs like “Melting ICE” and corrido-hardcore fusion “El Corrido del Maton,” is inspired by his immigrant household upbringing and interest in Chicano studies.

“Especially with this growing anti-intellectualism going on, and conservatives in our government, writing about Chicano identity and the issues in America feels important,” Cruz said. “There’s no one out there to speak up for us than us.”

A day after attending the show, Garrett Boyer and Kenny Sylvia, longtime friends with nearly matching tattoo sleeves and baseball caps, stood talking in Creator Tattoo Parlor in Pomona.

The pair helps to run Division One, a local booking company that books anywhere from Corona storefront DBZ Books N’ Records to their very own tattoo parlor.

A few weeks prior, Boyer got a call from his sister: His niece was diagnosed with an aggressive childhood cancer called neuroblastoma that had spread through her body, causing his sister to tackle insurance and medical costs. Boyer said he reached out to the hardcore community for help and was “overwhelmed” by the response.

“The community really, really, really came together. A lot of people reached out and really quickly we threw this benefit show that raised thousands of dollars,” Boyer said. “That’s the core of what hardcore music should be and is. It’s community.”

A few months before that, they had united with local bands to throw a benefit show, raising money for immigrant coalition groups after increased ICE raids.

“We thought, ‘How could we not help?’ I’m second generation from El Paso. So many of my neighbors and even my partner’s family were directly affected,” Boyer said. “So many shows are not just about music but they can [impact] people’s lives.”

Brett Rock, bassist of San Bernardino hardcore band Big Ass Truck, performs during Creator Fest on May 2, 2026, at Creator Tattoo in Pomona.

(Katerina Portela / Los Angeles Times)

In Creator’s graffitied back lot area on May 2, bands Load Tha Nine, ’92 and Auditory Anguish opened up a DIY festival called Creator Fest, where 22-year-old Cynthia Garcia came out to “let off steam.”

Garcia, who fronts local band Exutoire, said discovering the local alternative scene “changed everything.”

“In high school, it was very much like nothing was happening. We’re all bored. We’re all depressed. We’re writing, and finally, we get to put the writing to use,” Garcia said. “We meet people that are like-minded and trying to get out of that boredom, and then [the music scene] just exploded.”

At Garcia’s shows, she says she constantly meets concertgoers from L.A., or even from San Diego, who drive hours into the I.E. to be part of its blossoming scene.

At Creator Fest, Abarca commanded the stage, building up the energy of the crowd until hair whipped in frenzies. Abarca says he sees I.E. hardcore continuing to evolve, fusing new genres and making the Inland Empire a place to watch as alternative music booms in the “scrappy” venues of San Bernardino, Corona, Pomona and Riverside.

“Latinos in the Inland Empire have always been hardcore,” Abarca said. “People just know it now because we make them hear us.”

Unlike the movies, where directors get the glory, TV directors sit lower in the hierarchy, below creators, producers and actors. In most series, which might employ several over a season, they are interchangeable — which isn’t to say they aren’t valuable, transforming words on a page into a four-dimensional living thing. But a director hired to helm a pilot, as James Burrows, who died Friday at 85, was again and again — almost as a lucky charm — helps set the tone for the series. Jake Kasdan’s input was crucial to the feel (and philosophy) of “Freaks and Geeks,” as Hiro Murai’s was to “Atlanta” (and most recently “Widow’s Bay”). In some cases a director is a co-creator in all but title and union affiliation. A show might subsequently pass to later hands, but they’ll be honoring its established look and feel.

But Burrows was more than a little well known. If you sat through the opening credits of “Taxi,” whose pilot he directed along with 74 other episodes — and why wouldn’t you, with its pleasing Bob James theme and Checker Cab crossing the Queensboro Bridge — you would have seen his name for weeks on end. You might have noticed it on “Cheers,” which he co-created and for which he directed 236 episodes, or on “Will & Grace” (246 episodes), or “Frasier,” “The Big Bang Theory,” “3rd Rock From the Sun,” “Caroline in the City,” “Two and a Half Men,” “2 Broke Girls,” “The Neighborhood” or, just last year, “Mid-Century Modern” — all series whose pilots he directed. You might have caught it on episodes of “The Mary Tyler Moore Show,” “Phyllis,” “Rhoda” or “Laverne & Shirley,” until you began to think that maybe there was nobody else directing network multi-camera situation comedies, the most human of television formats and a specialty from which he rarely strayed.

And you might have seen him as himself this year in the third season of Lisa Kudrow’s “The Comeback,” as the man she enlists to save a television pilot from hacky AI jokes. “Surprising only comes from a group of writers huddled in a corner, beating themselves up to beat out a better joke,” he says.

“As director, I am there to help create the ensemble, to do everything I can to foster a community among the company, and to train a new set of actors to behave as a group and respect one another,” he wrote in his 2022 memoir, “Directed by James Burrows.” He famously took the cast of “Friends” to Las Vegas before the show premiered in order to foster bonds in a soon-to-be-impossible state of anonymity. “I guess I have a gift for creating families,” he told the New York Times in 2023.

But if “Friends” refers to the characters and the people who play them, it includes the audience too. Burrows’ talent was to midwife a real relationship between the viewer and the viewed, “You want to go where everybody knows your name,” runs the “Cheers” theme, and where you know everyone’s name. The families he excelled at creating were yours as well, and one watched knowing that these things happened in real time in real space, and that you could be in the room, if you made the effort. Tickets were available.

The son of Abe Burrows, who wrote or co-wrote the books for “Guys and Dolls,” “Can-Can” and “How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying,” and co-created the radio comedy “Duffy’s Tavern” — set, like “Cheers,” in a bar, though the younger Burrows denied any influence — he’d been directing dinner theater when he had the idea to write to Mary Tyler Moore, whom he’d met on the set of a never-opened “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” musical. His stage experience (and his Yale School of Drama degree, presumably) proved eminently transferable to the proscenium reality of multi-camera situation comedy.

What Burrows shows share — the ones we remember, at least, out of many we don’t — is that they’re fundamentally joyful. They lack cynicism. They’re expressive of their times without being showily edgy. They walk a line between freshness and familiarity, which makes one want to return week after week. They may push an envelope — “Friends” was something new, after all — but subtly. We can assume, given his reputation and the fact that he could have retired on “Cheers” alone, that he liked what he did and did what he liked, and regard his choice of projects as a form of personal expression in itself, the basis of a body of work that has and will live on.

Comedy director James Burrows, the 11-time Emmy-winning director who co-created “Cheers” and helped turn such long-running sitcoms as “Taxi,” “Friends,” “Will & Grace” and “The Big Bang Theory” into fan favorites, has died, his family confirmed to People. He was 85.

“We celebrate the extraordinary life and enduring legacy of James ‘Jimmy’ Burrows, who passed away peacefully today surrounded by his loving family,” his family said in a statement to People. “For more than five decades, Burrows was one of the most influential and beloved directors in television history. As a legendary director, mentor, and creative force, he helped shape generations of comedy and brought immeasurable joy to audiences around the world.”

A master of the multi-camera sitcom, Burrows started his career shooting episodes of “The Mary Tyler Moore Show” in 1974 and “The Bob Newhart Show” in 1975. He soon joined the quality-oriented production company, MTM, which counted James L. Brooks, Steven Bochco and Gary David Goldberg among its alumni.

“They were smart enough to know that it’s better to have a director who can talk to actors rather than a director who can move cameras. You can’t really learn how to make something funny, but you can learn to move the cameras,” Burrows said in a 1995 interview with The Times.

Burrows was born in Los Angeles and later moved to New York with his family where he attended the High School of Music & Art. He graduated from Oberlin College and completed a graduate program at the Yale School of Drama. He worked years as a stage manager with his father, a playwright and director, assisting on shows such as “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” starring Moore and Richard Chamberlain.

He solidified his name in television with “Cheers,” co-creating the lively Boston travern “where everybody knows your name” with Glen and Les Charles. Over its 11 seasons on the air, Burrows directed 237 of its 275 episodes, emerging as a behind-the-scenes comedy legend.

“You bring ‘em in, you sit ‘em down and they talk. That’s all ‘Cheers’ was,” Burrows told The Times. “The word is more important than the goofiness. It was all about the words — which is how I was trained, how my father was trained, how anybody who reads books is trained. It’s the word.”

His father, Abe Burrows, was a Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright, screenwriter and director who performed in radio comedies and co-wrote the books for the Broadway musicals “Guys and Dolls” and “How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying.” The younger Burrows said that growing up on radio comedies helped him hone his ear for humor.

“I know what’s funny, and I probably know the best way to deliver the joke. Whether it’s walking out of a room, facing that way, facing this way,” Burrows said in a 2010 interview with The Times. “I just have a sense of that.”

Another skill he learned from his dad? was working on his feet.

“He’d run the scenes over and over. He created this wonderful camaraderie, which I always try to do. I love to do ensemble shows because that’s where you get the camaraderie.”

Burrows, often considered a fatherly manager, tried to bridge the gap between actors and writers and notably took the cast of “Friends” on a trip to Las Vegas before directing 15 episodes of the blockbuster comedy. He also threw a party for the “Mike & Molly” cast to build rapport because he believed when everyone liked each other, it showed onscreen.

Actors would know when a joke landed when they would hear Burrows giggle as the scene unfolded.

“I’m the guy that wants you to walk the comic plank for me,” he said. “Take it as far out as you want to take it and I’ll bring it back. Sometimes I’ll take it further. But trust me.”

With his slate of hits — he’s credited for directing several shows in NBC’s primetime “Must See TV” lineup of the 1990s — Burrows amassed sizable wealth and, from an early age, was in constant demand by those seeking his magic touch for their show. However, he also saw his fair share of flops: Henry Winkler’s “Monty, “Cafe Americain” with Valerie Bertinelli and a slew of promising pilots that never got off the ground. He also felt that ABC’s “The Associates” and “The Class” on CBS were canceled too soon.

From 1998 to 2006, Burrows helmed every episode of “Will & Grace,” the Emmy-nominated sitcom about a woman and her gay best friend that aired on NBC for eight seasons during its original run. To Burrows, it was the funniest show he ever worked on. He was also behind the camera for the comedy’s 2017 revival, which brought the envelope-pushing antics of Will, Grace, Jack and Karen back for three more seasons.

“It was a fairytale literally and figuratively,” he said in a 2016 Hypable interview. “It was not of the real world in a strange kind of way. These were exaggerated characters. Although they were grounded with Will and Grace, there was this exaggeration that made the stuff you could do and get away with on that show so extraordinary.”

He won his 11th Emmy Award serving as an executive producer on 2019’s all-star re-staging of “Live in front of a Studio Audience: ‘All in the Family’ and ‘Good Times.’” A year earlier, he was nominated for directing the “‘All in the Family’ and ‘The Jeffersons’” TV special.

James Burrows behind the scenes.

(Chris Pizzello / Invision / Associated Press)

Throughout his career Burrows had a penchant for directing pilots because it meant “you’re better than an episodic director” and could create something new in the writer-driven medium of television. He was also drawn to “more uptown, the more urbane, the more sophisticated” comedies. He tried doing cinema once — 1981’s “Partners” with Ryan O’Neal and John Hurt — and said the result confirmed his belief that he was built for television.

“I’m not a cinematic guy. I’m a theater guy. For what I do, I need a live audience,” he said in a 2016 interview with the Television Academy.

Among his favorite TV moments were the pilots for “Frasier” and “Third Rock From the Sun,” the long-awaited kiss between Sam (Ted Danson) and Diane (Shelley Long) and Woody’s (Woody Harrelson) wedding on “Cheers,” Rev. Jim (Christopher Lloyd) taking his driving test in “Taxi,” Ross (David Schwimmer) being attacked by a cat in “Friends” and Will, Grace, Jack and Karen getting in the shower together on “Will & Grace.”

Late into his career, Burrows continued to work in the multi-camera sitcom format, which is shot in a studio, usually before a live audience. In 2013, he was honored by the Television Academy, and, in 2016, he celebrated directing his 1,000th episode of television programming, crossing the milestone with an episode of “Crowded.” NBC marked the milestone with “Must See TV: An All-Star Tribute” special. According to critics, the show — billed by several outlets as the elusive “Friends” reunion and came off as a living eulogy to Burrows — fell short and did not do the legendary director justice.

In all, Burrows was nominated for 45 Emmy Awards and 17 Directors Guild of America Awards.

Walter Parazaider, the saxophonist and co-founder of the rock group Chicago, has died. He was 81.

Parazaider died June 17 of complications from Alzheimers disease. In a statement posted to social media on Wednesday, the band said that “Chicago is heartbroken at the sad news of Walter Parazaider’s passing this morning. We extend our deepest condolences to his family, friends and countless Chicago fans who are all grieving his loss today.”

His daughter, Felicia Helen Parazaider, also posted on Facebook that “I love you poppy, my Pal…You coloured our world.”

Born in Maywood, Ill., Parazaider began his music career as a clarinetist, before founding Chicago with childhood friends in the group’s namesake city. The band’s pop hits like “25 or 6 to 4” and “Saturday in the Park” were staples of the ‘70s and remain beloved fixtures of classic rock. His diverse woodwind skills helped give the band its regal sound, adding saxophone riffs to hits like “Just You ‘n’ Me” and a poignant flute solo on “Colour My World.”

While Chicago’s lineup changed often, Parazaider remained with the group until retiring in 2018. In April of 2021, Parazaider wrote in a statement on Chicago’s website that “I was diagnosed with Alzheimers disease. Needless to say, my wife, daughters and myself were shocked and devastated. It has taken awhile to process this news and the fact is, we still are. The good news is we have a wonderful medical facility here and I have a very good doctor. I am working hard and not going to give up.”

Chicago gave credit to Parazaider for conceiving of the band’s distinct instrumentation, and the work ethic that made them stars. “A Rock & Roll band with horns was Walt’s idea,” Chicago’s statement continued. “He put the band together and they rehearsed in the basement of his mother’s home. He is also the one who did the hard work to book shows for the young, unknown band, performing top 40 covers at local bars in and around Chicago.

“We are forever grateful for his contribution,” they continued. “Perhaps his greatest gift was bringing people together. This amazing music may have never been heard had it not been for Walt’s vision.”

Parazaider is survived by wife JacLynn and daughters Laura and Felicia.

Few people do simmering panic as nimbly as Sarah Goldberg.

In her role as Dr. JoAnne Felder, a performance psychologist tending to the mercurial psyches of the billionaire man-children of Silicon Valley on the new AMC satire “The Audacity,” Goldberg careens from serene to slapstick as she tries to keep a lid on her increasingly unruly life.

It is the latest in a string of enviably layered characters for the Vancouver native, including her Emmy-nominated breakout turn as aspiring actor Sally Reed on the HBO contract killer dramedy “Barry” and the coolly calculating portfolio manager Petra Koenig on the network’s drama “Industry.”

“I’m definitely learning some large tech and finance words that I didn’t know,” she says with a laugh about her recent wealth-adjacent roles on a Zoom from London, where she makes her home. “I’m not sure if I’ll retain them.”

Given the accolades, it seems likely Goldberg only needs to memorize her lines and the rest will follow.

While she has given a distinctive performance in each of her roles, one of several threads tying the characters together is a moment when fear, rage, excitement, ambition or all of the above collide but must be contained. While that discipline sometimes devolves into delicious displays of apoplexy — witness Goldberg’s incredible, expletive-littered elevator meltdown in “Barry” — the 40-year-old actor is more often the face of diplomacy while telegraphing cortisol levels in the red beneath her placid exterior.

“As a blond Canadian, I really ran the risk of being the girl next door,” she says of her attempt to dodge typecasting onscreen after cutting her teeth onstage in London and New York in the mid-2010s. “I didn’t want to be the girl next door … maybe the girl next door with bodies in the basement.”

While the only bodies to be found in JoAnne’s basement on “The Audacity” are her eavesdropping son and his friends, the London Academy of Music & Dramatic Art (LAMDA) graduate has accomplished the mission of subverting what might have been a perky ingenue image with the role. (One she will continue, since the series has already gotten a Season 2 order.)

When the ethically challenged therapist starts dabbling in insider trading thanks to info gleaned from her patients — including bold tech names Duncan Park (Billy Magnussen) and Carl Bardolph (Zach Galifianakis) — the slippery slope awaits.

Goldberg with “The Audacity” co-star Billy Magnussen.

(Ed Araquel / AMC)

“I think that she started her career with a desire to help people and somewhere along the line she’s become incredibly jaded and she’s exhausted by being the most intelligent person in the room and yet having no material wealth to show for it,” says Goldberg of her character, whose struggles extend to motherhood of son Orson (Everett Blunck) and marriage to child psychologist Gary (Paul Adelstein).

It does not help that JoAnne is surrounded by people who have no trouble sliding headfirst down the slope as if it were an Aspen trail.

“She’s working with people who have so many houses that if one burns down, it doesn’t matter, and yet she’s struggling to keep the roof over her own head. So somewhere along the line she starts making these little contracts with herself thinking, ‘In this sea of moral bankruptcy, is my tiny little transgression really so bad? Or is it even justified?’ But these little small pacts start to snowball. You can see somebody torn between their better judgment, their core instinct, their humanity, and someone who is so frustrated that they’re stepping toward a kind of nihilism.”

That sense of inner conflict appeals to Goldberg, who says she knew instantly that she had to play JoAnne when she read the script by showrunner Jonathan Glatzer. “It’s rare for me to go out and be like, ‘I have to play this role!’” she says, adding with a laugh, “I can be quite passive. I can be quite Canadian in the American market. I felt like he’d found this incredible line of satire with pathos, which is my favorite kind of style.

“I’m always interested in playing characters on the precipice of losing their moral compass and which way they decide to go,” she continues. “And if JoAnne has anything in common with Sally from ‘Barry,’ because they’re such different characters, it’s that. … I love that Jonathan’s given JoAnne very mundane relatable problems in a world where the scale is so off and there’s a lot that the average person can’t relate to in that bubble.”

Goldberg has also been busy creating her own bubble, writing, producing and starring in the Canadian-Irish series “Sisters” — which just concluded its second season on AMC — with Irish actor Susan Stanley, her best friend since their LAMDA days. The odd couple sibling comedy finds Goldberg playing Sare, a buttoned-down Canadian who goes to Ireland to find her long-lost biological father (Donal Logue) and discovers shambolic half-sister Suze (Stanley).

“I was pretty shocked at how hard it is to get something made,” she says of the series’ six-year journey to screen. “And then to be in a leadership position where you’re inviting everyone to dinner and you’ve got to make sure there are three courses and being responsible for everybody’s well-being — it was wildly challenging, but absolutely thrilling.”

While she prepares to return to JoAnne’s world in Palo Alto — her hometown of Vancouver serving as a double — Goldberg feels very fortunate about where she’s landed.

“I’ve been so lucky at this stage in my career to work on scripts that I feel are really saying something and characters that I feel are morally complex and also to be in the business at a time where female characters are more complicated.”

David Hockney, the innovative and prolific British artist who arrived in Los Angeles in 1964, soon celebrating its sun-drenched life and landscapes in colorful, wildly popular paintings, has died.

He was 88.

Calling himself “an English Los Angeleno,” Hockney immortalized the city’s sparkling swimming pools, palm trees and beautiful young men, then went on to experiment with intricate photo collages, portrait suites, painted and filmed images of Yorkshire landscapes, iPad drawings and more.

Since his Pop Art paintings in the early ‘60s at London’s Royal College of Art, Hockney was rarely out of the limelight and, more important, rarely out of fresh ideas for how to draw, paint, film, print, photograph or otherwise express his creativity. The David Hockney Foundation owns more than 8,000 of his works, including about 200 sketchbooks, more than 230 self-portraits, opera designs and portraits of family and friends.

Hockney loved Hollywood — the people and the place — and liked to say he was brought up in England and Hollywood because of the time he spent at the movies. His peroxide blonde hair reportedly was inspired when he was a student and saw Clairol TV ads claiming “blondes have more fun.” But it was his interest in everything from Elvis Presley to the Hubble Space Telescope and his sense of humor that set him apart. Time Magazine art critic Robert Hughes once called him “the Cole Porter of modern art.”

He was open about being gay, even when homosexuality was outlawed in Britain. His early love affair with artist Peter Schlesinger, a younger man he met when teaching a summer drawing class at UCLA in 1966, inspired Hockney’s monumental 1972 painting “Portrait of an Artist (Pool with Two Figures),” a centerpiece of Jack Hazan’s 1974 film “A Bigger Splash.” The painting’s 2018 auction at Christie’s drew a record $90 million for a living artist.

He was a dedicated reader and student of art, paying homage in his work to Picasso and Cubism as well as to Monet, Matisse, Van Gogh and Cezanne. A lover of opera, he often had it playing loudly in the studio and enjoyed taking visitors on curated car trips through the Hollywood Hills or Malibu while listening to Wagner. He designed sets for major companies in Los Angeles, Chicago, New York, London and elsewhere over the years, and some of his set models were later shown in museums.

David Hockney’s work “Gregory in the Pool (Paper Pool 4)” is part of his solo exhibition “David Hockney: Perspective Should Be Reversed” at the Palm Springs Art Museum in Palm Springs. (Courtesy of the Palm Springs Art Museum)

(Courtesy of the Palm Springs Art Museum)

His solo shows drew enormous crowds to the Los Angeles County Museum of Art as early as 1988. In 2017 a major retrospective of his work, keyed to his 80^th birthday, was presented at New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art, Paris’ Centre Pompidou and London’s Tate Modern. Chronicling Hockney’s arrival as an important artist in the “ravishing” Met retrospective, the New Yorker writer Andrea K. Scott called it “a revelation.” It was, she wrote, “a retort to all the eye-rollers,” including herself, who dismissed his work “as, at best, a guilty pleasure.”

In 2012 he received the coveted Order of Merit, which Queen Elizabeth II presented to him at Buckingham Palace.

David Hockney was born the fourth of five children to a working-class family in Bradford, Yorkshire, on July 9, 1937. He has said he started “making marks on paper” at 8 and received private painting lessons before moving on to Bradford School of Art in 1953. The first painting he sold was a portrait of his father in 1955. He attended the Royal College of Art in London from 1959 until his graduation in 1962 and received the school’s Gold Medal.

After college he did not slack off, noted his biographer Christopher Simon Sykes. In his 2014 book, “Hockney: The Biography,” Sykes pointed out that the artist’s first flat had a chest of drawers near the bed on which he had painted, in large capital letters, the words “get up and work immediately.”

David Hockney in 2017.

(Catherine Opie, Courtesy of Regen Projects, Los Angeles and Lehmann Maupin, New York, Hong Kong and Seoul.)

Hockney lived by that command for the rest of his life, turning out canvas after canvas, photo after photo. In the ‘80s came his extraordinary multi-image photographic collages of friends including writer Christopher Isherwood and artist Don Bachardy and such landmarks as the Brooklyn Bridge, Grand Canyon and Pearblossom Highway.

“The Polaroids started oddly enough when I’d just finished a long period of work in the theater, which is of course playing with perspective and illusion,” he once told The Times. “People say, ‘You are a painter, and photography is a sideline.’ But nothing is a sideline for me.”

That included his continuing fascination with technology. The artist’s long career swept in artworks made not only on cameras and canvases, but on such things as fax machines and photocopiers. Hockney liked to experiment, whether it was with state-of-the-art printing devices or centuries old painting techniques. He went several times to a show of portraits by Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres at London’s National Gallery in 1999 and was greatly taken with the photographic’ quality of Ingres’ 19th century drawings. Certain that Ingres had used something optical to achieve that quality, Hockney bought himself a camera lucida, a small device that works like a prism. He then applied Ingres’ methods–as Hockney imagined them–to his own portraits of friends and family, and in 2001, he published “Secret Knowledge,” exploring his theories on early artistic uses of optical devices.

His death was confirmed by the Associated Press and New York Times.

Isenberg is a former Times staff writer

Authorities have identified the hiker who suffered a fatal medical emergency in Runyon Canyon as 78-year-old screenwriter William Hasley.

Hasley was a veteran TV writer who taught screenwriting classes at UCLA Extension. He was also a friend of Caitlyn Jenner and helped write the former athlete’s motivational book “Finding the Champion Within,” according to his biography.

The L.A. County medical examiner released Hasley’s identity Tuesday but had yet to rule on his cause of death.

More than two dozen personnel with the Los Angeles Fire Department responded to a report of a hiker in grave medical condition off Nichols Canyon Road near Hollywood Boulevard shortly before 7 p.m. Saturday.

A helicopter was used to reach the patient and allow paramedics to provide urgent medical care. They were unable to save him, and he was declared dead shortly after, according to the LAFD.

Hasley hailed from Pittsburgh and played university football before venturing to Hollywood to pursue his dreams as a writer. He wrote on 37 episodes of “The Smurfs” in the late 1980s and early ’90s as well as several episodes of “Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids,” according to IMDB. His TV writing credits also included “Swift Justice,” “Ghost Stories,” “Murder, She Wrote,” “Young Riders” and “Highway to Heaven.”

He was able to channel his love of sports while working with NBC on the network’s project “Star Salute to the U.S. Olympic Team,” where he met Olympic gold medalist Caitlyn Jenner, according to his professional biography.

The pair became friends, and Hasley went on to help write a book about Jenner’s philosophy on overcoming adversity in sports and life. He was commissioned to ghostwrite several other motivational books including “Passion, Profit, & Power” for hypnotist Marshall Sylver and “The Slight Edge” for self-help expert Jeff Olson.

Hasley loved sharing his passion for writing with students at UCLA and described the process of writing as akin to assembling a puzzle, where one tries many different combinations of pieces before finding the perfect fit, according to his teaching biography.

“I personally believe that when you know your characters well enough they will start dictating their actions,” he wrote. “When that happens writing becomes a euphoric experience.”

In addition to teaching and writing, he enjoyed golfing, horseback riding, fighting City Hall over an environmental issue, volunteering in soup kitchens and speaking to youth organizations, according to his bio.

Hasley was formerly married to actor Robin Riker, best known for her roles on “Brothers” and “The Bold and the Beautiful.”

He lived in the Hollywood Hills not far from where he suffered the medical emergency. A neighbor told the New York Post they had seen him earlier Saturday carrying groceries home. “It’s very sad he had to die all alone like that,” the neighbor said.

Times staff writer Sonja Sharp contributed to this report.

You can’t own the beach in California. Our shoreline is public — thanks to the Coastal Act and the Coastal Commission — even when everything around it gets expensive and complicated. You can live next to it, monetize it and build a personality around proximity to it, but the wet sand itself belongs to everyone.

Jackie Snow takes a selfie by the new public stairs at Escondido Beach, also known as Hidden Beach.

(Jackie Snow)

In 2024, my colleague Jaclyn Cosgrove walked 27.4 miles of Washington Boulevard in a single day, from Whittier to the ocean. I read it in awe of the shape of it. One street. One day. A city revealed in a straight line.

And then a thought occurred to me, I could do something like that. What if I walked the entire L.A. shoreline? What would happen if I went to the beach and just kept walking along the crest of its waves? Except the shore does not reward this approach. It closes. It opens. Erosion pushes you onto the road and lets you back when it feels like it.

I set out to walk the 75 miles along the Los Angeles coastline anyway. I started at the mouth of the San Gabriel River and worked north toward the Ventura County line, taking 10 trips from the end of November to the second week of January, mostly waiting on tides and weather to cooperate.

Being a surfer helped. I already knew that wet sand means public access in California, that satellite view tells you things the default map doesn’t, and that tides can make or break an outing. For someone wanting to do a similar journey, the California Coastal Trail website is a valuable resource. You can walk long stretches and return back, but I went point to point, which means figuring out how to get back to your car. I usually Ubered, although public transit exists on some stretches. The slickest option is going with a friend who has a car: leave their car at the end, drive yours to the start, and walk. Their car is waiting at the finish to bring you both back to yours. Beyond that, bring more water than you think you need to especially as most stretches have no fountains, no services and no shade. Pack snacks that will sustain you throughout the journey, wear a hat and put on sunscreen, then reapply it. Even on gray, marine-layer days, you’re exposed for hours with nothing overhead.

If you’re inspired by this mega-trek but want to instead do a micro version, I suggest the 5.7 miles from Malibu Pier to Escondido Beach. You can park at one end and take a picturesque bus back where a tasty lunch at the pier’s Malibu Farm awaits at the finish. One last tip I picked up: be nice. People sometimes will give you water, or offer help, wanting to see you get to your destination too.

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1. A red-tailed hawk perched on a coastal access sign along the boardwalk in Long Beach. 2. A bench off the Long Beach boardwalk, near the start of the 75-mile walk. 3. Birdhouses located near the Long Beach boardwalk. (Jackie Snow)

Alamitos Beach to Port of Long Beach: 4.9 miles

I start at the mouth of the San Gabriel River at Alamitos Park at about 10 a.m. on a busy Sunday at the end of November, walking with a friend. The first stretch is a flat, easy boardwalk. We stop at the Long Beach Museum of Art, which sits on the bluffs overlooking the water, and grab lunch at Claire’s, the museum’s outdoor cafe. From there, we walk toward the mouth of the Los Angeles River, passing through the marina, where boats sit quietly and a pirate ship is inexplicably for sale. We don’t make it up the man-made pier to the Queen Mary. Instead, we turn around just short of it, one river book-ending the other.

Looking back toward the marina near the mouth of the Los Angeles River, one river bookending the other.

(Jackie Snow)

Cabrillo Beach to Portuguese Bend Beach Club: 8.7 miles

I park at Cabrillo Beach, along the Port of Los Angeles, around 6:30 a.m. People are already playing ping-pong. Someone is dancing alone on the sand.

I start along the Cabrillo Beach Walking Path, which you enter at the south end of the beach where the sand ends and the bluffs start. In what feels like two seconds, I’m up on the cliffs, which quits partway and dumps me onto the residential streets of Coastal San Pedro, a neighborhood that looks quintessentially California. The houses are probably a few million dollars each, but they’re tidy bungalows, not the kind of aggressive beachfront wealth that makes you feel like you’ve wandered somewhere you’re not supposed to be.

I pass through Point Fermin Park, home to a lighthouse perched above the water. Down below, the beaches are rocky and loud. The waves are being sucked forcefully back out between the rocks, a sound that feels more industrial than oceanic. There’s more neighborhood walking on West Paseo Del Mar, interrupted by a Little Free Library stop where I add a few books to my bag. I hit the San Pedro hike trails, and the coastline turns dramatic, and suddenly I can’t step two feet off the path without risking a fall, but it’s breathtaking in its beauty.

Cabrillo Beach at the Port of Los Angeles, where the second walk began.

(Jackie Snow)

I hit another closed section, this one bordering Trump National Golf Club in Rancho Palos Verdes. Not wanting to end up on a Secret Service list that bars me from flying, I find another way around, on a surprising trail that curves between holes that’s part of the Ocean Trails Reserve. I climb down to the beach and start picking my way along the rocks toward the Portuguese Bend Beach Club, moving slowly and trying not to break my neck. You can definitely skip this part.

A security guard named Gilbert Blair waves me over and explains to me what I already know: I’m allowed to walk on the wet sand, but everything else is private. When I tell him what I’m doing, he starts offering advice, pointing out places on my Google map he thinks are closed because of last year’s heavy rains. This area is some of the shiftiest parts of all of California, with landslides going back all through the geographical record. In 2024, areas were moving 9 to 12 inches a week, although it has slowed down to 1 to 2 inches a week. He tells me the unstable land actually created a new beach, which the coast almost never does. People came from all over to see it, he says, gesturing toward a new form of sand that locals have called “unreal.”

Blair is nice, but not nice enough to wave me off the wet sand and through Portuguese Bend’s private roads so I can call an Uber. I have to backtrack, spending more time than I’d like carefully navigating the rocks. I briefly consider stopping at the nearby Trump National Golf Club to eat and use the bathroom, but I’m hot, sweaty and not in the mood to test my welcome.

The trail descending toward the rocky beaches below Point Fermin, where waves get sucked back out between the rocks with a sound more industrial than oceanic.

(Jackie Snow)

Terranea Beach to Palos Verdes Estates Shoreline Preserve: 5.4 miles

Based on Blair’s advice, I skip a section that isn’t open to the public and probably not safe. I drive Palos Verdes Drive South, a rutted, uneven road that skirts the area and feels vaguely off-roading. I park at Terranea Resort, which charges a fee, but there is also nearby free public parking. I pick the walk back up at the charming tucked-away Terranea Beach. As I head north, the trail climbs. I can see stretches of shoreline closed off, tantalizingly visible with no way to reach them.

I stop at the Point Vicente Interpretive Center, a modest but free museum perched above the water. Several people are gathered outside with binoculars, scanning the horizon. They tell me humpbacks were spotted farther out earlier, feeding. It’s easier to see them on the far side of Catalina, they explain, but they still watch from here, every day, sunrise to sunset, December through May. This is the Gray Whale Census and Behavior Project, run by the American Cetacean Society. Volunteers have been coming here for 43 years, counting whales as they migrate past the point.

The Point Vicente lighthouse, perched above the water where Gray Whale Census volunteers keep watch.

(Jackie Snow)

Volunteers with the Gray Whale Census and Behavior Project scanning the horizon. They’ve been counting whales here for 43 years.

(Jackie Snow)

After I peel myself away from looking for whales, the tides won’t allow me to climb down to Honeymoon Cove. I stay on the cliffs and admire the impressive houses around me. I continue until I round the Palos Verdes Estates cliffs, on Paseo del Mar, and see the long, flat stretch of built-up beaches unfurling ahead, South Bay-style, Malibu faint in the distance.

I’ve only done about 15 miles of my walk and suddenly I see how much more there is to go. I’m hot. I’m tired. I packed bad snacks. The sheer expanse of it, frankly, stresses me out. I had planned to make it to Rat Beach in Palos Verdes Estates, but I call it early.

The small coves that punctuate the Palos Verdes coastline, visible from the cliffs above.

(Jackie Snow)

Palos Verdes Estates Shoreline Preserve to El Porto Beach: 7.9 miles

I start back at Palos Verdes Estates cliffs. A couple of turns in, I come across my first real surf spot of the walk. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a surf break from this high up. The waves look less like waves and more like pulses of energy moving under the skin of the ocean.

When I finally hit Rat Beach and see how flat the coastline stretches ahead, I feel like dropping to my knees and kissing the ground. After days of cliffs and detours, the openness feels generous.

Hermosa Beach is busy with volleyball nets in use at a level that suggests Olympic aspirations. Forty minutes later, I stop at Ercole’s in Manhattan Beach two blocks off the boardwalk and demolish one of its famed burgers. Instead of stopping where I planned, I keep going and end at my familiar surf spot El Porto.

Surfers walking out to the break at El Porto.

(Jackie Snow)

El Porto Beach to Ballona Creek Jetty: 4.8 miles

I’m back at El Porto Beach, this time walking a paved boardwalk through a thick, foggy marine layer with my husband and a friend who’s in town visiting.

Suddenly, my friend realizes he’s dropped his wallet somewhere north of El Segundo. Cue a round of retraced steps and mild panic. An angel named Dr. Gaz finds it, looks up my friend, and bikes it over so we don’t have to retrace any further. The wallet is returned. Our trio survives. We keep walking, stopping at Ballona Creek Jetty.

A dog and his man relaxing on the beach in Marina Del Rey.

(Jackie Snow)

Marina Del Rey to Will Rogers Beach: 7.4 miles

In this classic boardwalk stretch, we eye the muscle men of Muscle Beach, pause for a quiet break at Small World Books in Venice and walk next to skateboarders (including one dressed as a Santa) in Santa Monica, before ending at Will Rogers State Beach.

The rocks and tide pools just past Malibu Lagoon, where the king tide pulled the water back farther than usual.

(Jackie Snow)

Will Rogers Beach to Malibu Pier: 7.7 miles

I do this stretch with my husband on New Year’s Day, parking at Will Rogers Beach Lot Three and timing it to a king tide. The highs are higher, but the lows are lower too, which is the part we’re interested in.

Even with the king tide low, the beach opens up and pinches closed without warning, and we move between wet sand, rocks we feel like traversing, and the shoulder of the Pacific Coast Highway when we don’t.

Soon enough, we hit the section of burned-out houses that still haunt the beach nearly a year later. I think I can still smell the smoke. It’s the quietest stretch of the whole walk, and the only place the emptiness feels like loss instead of calm.

The Malibu coastline near Escondido Beach.

(Jackie Snow)

When we finally reach the Malibu Pier, it feels like stepping back into civilization. People are on the beach. Nobu is packed. We eat at Malibu Farm and sit indoors, grateful for chairs, shade and food that isn’t trail mix.

Afterward, we take the bus back to the car from a stop near the Pier on the PCH, which turns out to be one of the most beautiful bus rides in existence, with the coastline framed perfectly by wide windows.

Malibu Pier to Escondido Beach: 5.7 miles

We come back the next day for another king tide, despite rain in the forecast. I start on the other side of Malibu Lagoon State Beach, which looks like nothing else on this walk. It’s swampy and green and quietly buzzing, reminding me of Florida, my home turf. Birders are out, rain jackets zipped, binoculars already up.

There are still rocks and little rivers to navigate, but the tide is so low it’s exposing tide pools I didn’t know existed up here. The sand is packed and forgiving, and we cover distance quickly until the rain really starts coming down.

We exit using the new stairs at Escondido Beach, also known as Hidden Beach, which were installed in 2023 after a multidecade battle over access. I take them slowly as I celebrate a mostly triumphant walk.

The Malibu coastline just south of Point Dume.

(Jackie Snow)

Escondido Beach to Zuma Beach: 6.7 miles

I head back to Escondido Beach, a few days later at low tide, though the tide is already coming in. That turns out to be a mistake. My second mistake is coming alone. As I scramble over rocks helpfully labeled with a sign warning not to climb on them, it’s dangerous, I notice my phone has no service. I decide the safest option is to soak my hiking boots instead along the incoming tide.

With my shoes sloshing and Google Maps satellite view looking deeply uncommitted to the stretch just south of Point Dume, I try to exit. Nope. Gated community. Not ready to give up, I keep going.

The surfer south of Point Dume whose companions offered to unlock the gate.

(Jackie Snow)

I spot a woman surfing and stop to take a photo. Her non-surfing companions start chatting with me. When they hear what I’m doing and where I’m trying to go, they offer to unlock the gate. It’s a genuinely kind gesture. But since I’m doing this for you, reader, I ask if there’s an exit farther along. They say there are stairs up ahead, probably reachable. I tell them, in the nicest way possible, that I hope I don’t see them again, and keep going.

My shoes are now collecting water on every step, the bottoms of my pants are wet, and everything underfoot is baseball-sized rocks, which I think is the worst possible rock size for walking. I round the curve. I spot the stairs.

If I had turned off satellite view, the stairs would have been obvious. So much for trying to read the coastline.

I climb out and walk to the tip of Point Dume and look south. I can see the South Bay, where I called it early weeks ago, hot and tired and hating my snacks. I’m still hot. I’m still tired. My snacks are still crummy. But standing here, salty and damp, I realize I don’t want this to walk to end.

The view from the cliffs near Point Dume.

(Jackie Snow)

Zuma Beach to county line: 5.3 miles

Today I timed the hike with a tide going out and my husband joins me so I don’t have a repeat from last time. We park along the PCH at Zuma. The first stretch we go by “Hannah Montana’s View,” a very persistent Google map label. It’s calm until a curve, where a gaggle of adolescent boys, shirtless and shoeless, are trying but failing to climb over the mussel-covered rocks ahead of us. For the second time on this walk, I have to turn around and back-track to the last exit, maybe a quarter mile back.

Luckily, the sighting of a Little Free Library makes the detour feel less like a failure and more like a reward. We cut through a small gated community that turns out to have a door for exactly this purpose, a quiet acknowledgment that people do, in fact, want to walk through here. There is so much rock walking. So much. Eventually we reach Leo Carrillo State Beach, where Los Angeles actually ends and Ventura County begins. Despite the name, County Line Beach is another mile or so away.

Gated Lechuza Point neighborhood has a beach access road that lets walkers get to the shore.

(Jackie Snow)

I watch people walk across the county border without noticing it at all, no fanfare, no announcement, no sense that anything has changed. They keep going. I stop. They are not done walking, but I am.

I haven’t seen every inch of the Los Angeles County coastline. I double-checked my walking distance and I’m still not at 75 miles, more like 65. The number I found online is probably not entirely accurate (the coastline is constantly changing). Maybe it’s closer to 70. But I have seen whale-watch perches, burned-out Malibu lots, crowded boardwalks and magnificent waves. The coastline is both fragile and welcoming — and walkable — if you’re willing to chase the tides.

Peabo Bryson, a Grammy-winning R&B singer known for his duets from Disney classics “Aladdin” and “Beauty and the Beast,” has died. He was 75.

His family confirmed to The Times that he died Tuesday in Marietta, Ga. The cause was complications from a stroke he suffered over the weekend.

“We are tremendously moved by the outpouring of love, prayers and support from fans, friends, and colleagues around the world,” the family shared. “While our hearts are broken, we find comfort in knowing how deeply Peabo was loved and how many lives were touched by his voice and his generous spirit. His legacy and music will live on for generations to come.”

Bryson was a fixture on the R&B scene for decades, scoring with such hits as “Tonight I Celebrate My Love” and “If Ever You’re in My Arms Again.”

Peabo Bryson, pictured performing in Washington, D.C., in 2016, won Grammy Awards in back-to-back years in 1993 and 1994.

(Teresa Kroeger / Getty Images)

In a career peak in 1992, the singer was featured on recordings that topped four separate charts: “A Whole New World,” a duet with Regina Belle from the Disney animated movie “Aladdin,” topped the Pop and Adult Contemporary charts; “The King and I” album, featuring Bryson, was No. 1 on the Classical Crossover charts, and Kenny G’s “Breathless” album, featuring Bryson on “By the Time the Night Is Over,” topped the Contemporary Jazz charts.

He nabbed two Grammy Awards back to back in 1993 and 1994 for his performance of “Beauty and the Beast” with Céline Dion, and his performance of “A Whole New World” with Regina Belle.

“I don’t think there’s anything I can’t do,” Bryson told The Times. “I see myself as a true Renaissance man. I don’t like one-dimensional concepts of myself.”

Robert Peapo Bryson was born on April 13, 1951, in Greenville, S.C. He grew up attending concerts his mother would bring the family to, and by the time he was in high school, he knew he wanted a career in music.

In 1978, he told David Nathan, an editor for Blues & Soul magazine, that his mother wasn’t thrilled about the prospect of him chasing his dreams in the rhythm-and-blues biz and worried he’d get into trouble.

“As far back as I can remember, I’ve always been into music,” Bryson said. “It’s all I ever wanted to really deal with. … I had to make that decision, when I was around 14, as to what I was going to get into, career-wise. Well, I’d thought about being a doctor or something like that, but I really felt that music was my thing.”

He cut his teeth as a backing vocalist in various groups, but none of his bandmates could properly pronounce “Peapo,” his French West Indian name, so he changed up the spelling to make it simpler. The stage name Peabo was born. In the late 1960s, he linked up with “My Elusive Dreams” hitmaker Moses Dillard. “I started out just singing, although I progressed into percussion, guitar and, much later, playing piano — that was basically when I started getting into songwriting,” he told Nathan.

In 1967, he signed his first record deal, with Bang Records, and in 1976, he made his solo debut with the single “Underground Music” and his eponymous album, “Peabo.” The next year, he hit it big time and signed with Capitol Records, where he put out back-to-back gold-selling albums: “Reaching for the Sky” in 1977 and “Crosswinds” in 1978.

Peabo Bryson performs at the Centennial Olympic Park’s Fourth of July Celebration in Atlanta.

(Robb D. Cohen / Invision / Associated Press)

By the ’90s, Bryson was at a career high, collected Grammy nominations and became the definitive voice of Disney duets. But the music scene was changing, and Bryson wasn’t keen on the new direction. He told The Times in 1994 that MTV had stopped considering talent as the criteria to be played on the music channel and that he thought mainstream music had taken a hostile and negative turn.

“I guess I [tick] people off because I don’t go away,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m like a tenacious forest fire — you snuff me out over here, and I’m still burning down the back 40 just when you think it’s over. I have a great faith in God, and because of my great faith in God, I have faith in the self.”

Fortunately for legions of fans of the soulful balladeer, Bryson was right and he wasn’t going anywhere for another couple of decades. The Grammy winner continued to grace stages with his flashy blazers and smooth baritone, and recently performed a concert with Jeffrey Osborne at Trilith Live in Fayetteville, Ga.

The event in early May was a standalone performance, apart from the crooner’s Golden Touch tour, which he announced last year, amid his celebration of 50 years in the music industry.

In recent years, Bryson said he had been hitting the gym and prioritizing his health after a scare seven years ago when the artist suffered a heart attack at his Georgia home. He told the Soul Train Cruise 2020 that he flat-lined for nearly 30 minutes, “long enough to make friends on the other side.”

“It turns out that dying is not that hard,” Bryson said. “Didn’t hurt that much. It’s the living afterwards that’s the really difficult part. I mean, why are you still here? You have to ask yourself those hard questions: Are you a good father? Are you a good husband? Are you a good friend? Are you a good brother? Are you a good human being?”

Bryson said he was able to answer yes.

“Then you have to ask yourself the question that makes the answer null and void — can you be better?”

Bryson is survived by his wife, Tanya Boniface Bryson; son Robert Bryson (who goes by Kit); daughter Linda Bryson; and three grandchildren.

Memorial arrangements will be announced at a later date.

Nick Pasqual, an actor who appeared in “How I Met Your Mother,” has been sentenced to 32 years to life for the attempted murder of his estranged girlfriend, L.A.-based makeup artist Allie Shehorn.

Following a jury trial, Pasqual was also convicted of counts of injuring a spouse or partner, first-degree burglary and rape, according to court documents. During the trial, Shehorn had visible scars on her hands and neck when she testified, per ABC.

The incident occurred in May 2024, when Pasqual repeatedly stabbed Shehorn in her Shadow Hills home. Prosecutors said that the actor broke into Shehorn’s home just before 4:30 a.m. on May 23, attacked her with a knife and fled California.

Days before the attack, Shehorn had filed a restraining order against Pasqual, detailing acts of sexual and physical assault. While the judge approved the order, it was unclear whether Pasqual had been served prior to the stabbing.

Christine White, Shehorn’s friend and roommate, discovered the makeup artist lying in a pool of blood and called emergency services. Friends believe Shehorn was stabbed more than 20 times. Following the attack, Shehorn underwent emergency surgery and spent days in intensive care.

Pasqual was ultimately stopped by authorities at a border checkpoint in Sierra Blanca, Texas, and extradited to Los Angeles.

The former couple met on the set of Zack Snyder’s film “Rebel Moon,” where Pasqual worked as a background actor and Shehorn worked as a makeup artist.

Last week, Shehorn sued the actor for sexual battery, assault and negligence, among other counts, according to a lawsuit submitted in Los Angeles County Superior Court.

The 17-page complaint echoes details about the May 2024 stabbing that led to Pasqual’s arrest two years ago and his attempted murder conviction.

Staff writer Alexandra Del Rosario and former staff writer Nathan Solis contributed to this report.

Mindy Kaling was in her early 30s when the first TV series she created, “The Mindy Project,” made its debut and set in motion her attempt at forging an identity as a prolific multi-hyphenate after “The Office,” where she was a writer and cast member for eight seasons. But if you ask her to reflect on that time of her life, she says, it’s a bit of a blur.

As she explained recently, “I remember it, but not all that distinctly. It was such a grind — waking up at 6 a.m. to be on camera, wrapping late. And I did that for 117 episodes.”

But ask her about her 20s, when she was living in New York City and trying to figure out how she could break into the industry as a comedy writer? “I remember incredibly vividly,” she says. “I’m like, did I feel things more intensely back then? I’m not sure. But that period of time … there was just so many highs and lows. And it felt cinematic to me.”

So she made a TV show about it.

Premiering Tuesday with three episodes, “Not Suitable for Work” follows five ambitious 20-somethings living in Manhattan who are navigating the early stages of their careers while trying to have a semblance of a life and the heightened emotions they experience during this period. Kaling calls it the third chapter in her semi-autobiographical TV trilogy, which includes “Never Have I Ever,” about a first-generation Indian American teenager coping with her father’s death while trying to be popular (or at least not super uncool), and “The Sex Lives of College Girls,” about four young women who dorm together and boldly maneuver their new, uninhibited lives on campus.

In the new Hulu series, viewers are introduced to AJ Pascarelli (Ella Hunt), a hard-working and disciplined young woman who moves to town to start a high-pressure finance job, and her roommate Abhinaya “Abby” Chilukuri (Avantika), a savvy and fashion-obsessed assistant to a celebrity stylist. They live across the hall from Josh Teitelbaum (Jack Martin), an idealistic nepo baby of a media titan — he’ll lean into his privilege when it suits him while also trying to distance himself from it — with ambitions of making it in journalism. His two roommates are Kel Washington (Nicholas Duvernay), an insecure but earnest med student who would rather be acting, and Davis Beau Bradley Barrett III (Will Angus), a high-energy, bumbling financial analyst who works at the same corporate firm as AJ and is an undercover hopeless romantic. As one might expect, there are some messy entanglements within and outside the group.

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1. Abby (Avantika), left, and AJ (Ella Hunt) move in together. 2. Across the hall live Davis (Will Angus), left, Josh (Jack Martin) and Kel (Nicholas Duvernay). (Gwen Capistran / Disney)

“I hope that young people will respond to the show, “ Kaling says. “We did so much research in it because at a certain point it is funny — I’m in my 40s, and I am often like, ‘I wonder if young people are suspicious about why I’m so obsessed with writing shows about young people.’”

So, why is she?

“Because I find it almost impossible to reflect on the current time I’m in,” she says. “It would be too painful to be too introspective about the time that I’m in. I need a real sense of distance to look back on it, especially since having kids. Once you have kids, it triggers these memories of your own childhood.”

Over video call from New York City, Kaling reflected on the series and her early years of trying to make it. These are edited excerpts from the conversation.

How did you land on the professions that your characters would be pursuing and what did you want to say about ambition at this stage of life?

I love people who have big wants, and sometimes the audience is like, “Maybe you want the wrong thing” and they [the characters] don’t quite know that yet. I love writing about the underdog. And with their particular professions, they’re all things that I had some interest in researching. I’ve always been fascinated by investment bankers. I went to Dartmouth, so I have a lot of friends who went into that, and I swear I’ve had my friends explain their job so many times to me, and I still didn’t totally understand it. We were lucky; a very famous investment bank very generously offered to let me come for a day and meet with young bankers. I also … write about the children of immigrants. I’m very, very interested in that story, and so we got to research what it’s like being the child of Nigerian immigrants. But every single character has a journey, or there’s an aspect of them that I feel like I really relate to, and that is in almost all my shows.

What was it like observing young people in the investment banking world?

They were wary — because they’re smart — of someone from Hollywood coming in to document what they were doing and asking questions. It helped that a lot of the guys liked “The Office” and a lot of the women liked “The Mindy Project” and “Sex Lives of College Girls” because they’re all kind of young. I think that made them trust me a little bit more. For the AJ and Davis characters, so much of what I researched when I was there fed into their plot line … almost all the characters have a boss they fear and idolize, and the way that first-year bankers feel about their managing directors is not dissimilar to the way I felt about Greg Daniels when I started at “The Office.” And the hours are actually not dissimilar.

There’s a moment early on where Jay Ellis’ character, Bill, who is a managing director at this fictional investment banking firm, is asked about work-life balance. I’m curious how you thought about that at the start of your career versus now.

I didn’t care at all about anything except my job for 16 years. It was my entire personality and purpose. When I was in my 20s, the only thing that mattered was being a good comedy writer and succeeding, and one day maybe being able to create my own shows. There was no balance. I didn’t want balance. I wanted to live and breathe comedy writing for my entire life. I hated the weekends, actually. And who wouldn’t? I was a friendless transplant in Los Angeles and I just wanted to get back to working at “The Office.” Every year I was there, I got more ambitious and I wanted to go off and create my own show and have a bigger part as an actor and everything.

It wasn’t until after I did that on “The Mindy Project” … that I just felt like, “OK, I get this. I want to now try being a mom.” Once I had my daughter, Katherine [at 37], it wasn’t that the balance changed, it was my first real, legitimate interest outside of work — that I cared about more than work.

“When I was in my 20s, the only thing that mattered was being a good comedy writer and succeeding, and one day maybe being able to create my own shows,” Kaling says. “There was no balance. I didn’t want balance.”

(Ebru Yildiz / For The Times)

After college, you moved to Brooklyn with two Dartmouth friends to pursue a career in comedy. You eventually got a full-time job as a production assistant on “Crossing Over with John Edward,” a program where people would receive psychic readings. Tell me about that time in your life.

I remember feeling like I had no access and that I didn’t have any place to put my ambition. It was so far away from anything I wanted to do — scripted comedy and reality television could not be further apart. It was a fascinating time because there were such highs and lows. There was the excitement of new crushes and having fun in a new city with two friends, but there was also the crushing disappointment of feeling like I was never gonna make it. I didn’t even have a path forward to making it, but I was lucky, because I lived with my two best friends. We would go to open mic nights, and we would go to restaurant week and see how the rich people in Manhattan were living. We would take the subway uptown to Central Park and walk along Fifth Avenue and like look at these amazing homes and just dream what it was like to be like a wealthy New Yorker who could buy everything that they read about on DailyCandy — now I’m really dating myself here, back when DailyCandy was a thing. But that’s what it was like, I just I felt a lot of extreme emotions.

How did you approach that job?

My boss was a producer and would approach the families and get their information, and then we would have to do research on them, but it was mostly because they would do a little clip package on the different families. I had to get them to sign releases to be on the show and get photographs of their deceased [loved ones] and them. I actually thought it was pretty interesting work. It just had nothing to do with comedy writing, and that job was not clearly going to lead anywhere toward comedy writing, and I came to New York because of “Saturday Night Live.” When I was working there is when my friend Brenda [Withers] … and I started writing this play “Matt & Ben” [a satirical play that imagines the story of Matt Damon and Ben Affleck before “Good Will Hunting” made them famous] in the time we had off. We started writing it, then I got that job as a PA, then the show went up at the Fringe Festival, and then it was going to go off off Broadway, and when it went off-off-Broadway, and I had a steady income, that’s when I quit my job there. I was only at “Crossing Over” for three or so months.

Greg Daniels attended a performance of “Matt & Ben” and it’s what led to you getting on “The Office” at 24. What was that first meeting like?

Back then, because the internet was so different, when I looked up Greg, besides his credits, you couldn’t find a lot of biographical information about him, or even a photo. I don’t think I even knew what he looked like. When I met him, I don’t think I had seen the British “Office” yet; I wasn’t cool. At that time, I had put so much pressure on this job. I only had two interviews — it was this and there was a show that ended up getting canceled while I was waiting to meet the showrunner. It was a pilot called “Nevermind Nirvana,” about an Indian man who married a white woman, and Ajay Sahgal was the writer. I was like, “Oh my God, if anyone is going to get hired to work on the show, it has to be me.” I was pretty excited about that meeting, but when I was sitting in the waiting room at the production offices to meet with Ajay, they told them they weren’t going to pick up the pilot, so I never even got to meet him, and they just told me I could leave.

I’d only had that interview, and then I met with Greg. This is my memory: it was a high-rise building in Century City, in the offices of “King of the Hill,” so there was a lot of like “King of the Hill” cutouts and stuff there. And he’s just a very thoughtful, quiet guy who doesn’t push conversation … I’m someone who’s pathologically chatty, and so talking to Greg, who is completely fine with there being pauses in conversation, and is just a confident grown-up, it was incredibly intimidating. I was very stressed out in our meeting, but I also was blown away by him.

That first season, you were also the only female writer on staff and the youngest —

B.J.[Novak] is a month younger than me. I want to correct that because he’ll read this and go, “Hey … !”

How did that play into how you felt in the room?

I haven’t really ever had imposter syndrome. And this is my probably my personality defect — I felt that even if I hadn’t seen anyone like me in these roles, that I was just going to be the first one, and I was going to work really hard and prove it to them. The staff was super competitive, but they were smart feminist guys. It was hierarchical and stressful, but it was not because of my fellow writers, except that I wanted to impress them. I felt nervous because I wanted to be contributing, but I don’t know why — I just loved the pilot so much that Greg had made, and I loved these characters, and this world — I was like, I can’t possibly lose my job, I love it too much. Which is probably really stupid, I didn’t ever think there’s a possibility that I could get fired here.

Phyllis (Phyllis Smith), Kelly (Mindy Kaling), Dwight (Rainn Wilson) and Michael (Steve Carell) in a scene from Season 2 of “The Office.”

(Paul Drinkwater / NBCUniversal via Getty Images)

We see how AJ wants to impress the boss and takes on more than she can chew and screws up some data before a big presentation. What was that first big mistake or misstep that you made in those early years that you still think about?

I remember Season 2 — because I just wanted to prove to Greg and to the cast and to the director, the cinematographer, and everyone that I was super invested — we were shooting “The Dundies” [episode]. I was an actor on the show as well, but I wasn’t acting in this scene, but it was my episode [that I wrote], and in between takes, John [Krasinski, who played Jim Halpert] and Jenna [Fischer, who played Pam Beesly] were just on set, and I remember going up to them and being like, “Guys, that take was so great!” And I walked away. Greg came up to me and was like, “You know, we really should let just the director talk to the cast between takes.” Greg, he’s my mentor, but he definitely, over the course of the eight years I lived there, had corrected me many times, as he should have, but that was one of the first times. I remember I was so embarrassed, but I didn’t understand it’s not the role of a story editor to be giving feedback to the cast between takes on a show.

The bosses on the show all have different styles and expectations that may seem demanding or annoying on the surface. How do they reflect where you’re at now?

No one trains you on how to be a good boss. And bad bosses are so prevalent. The entire premise of “The Office” hinges on this funny concept that terrible bosses exist. It wasn’t until I was on “The Mindy Project” that I was the employer for the first time. Every single year of that show, it was a battle getting a new season. One of the challenges of being a good boss is being able to put aside those personal, professional battles you’re fighting … but then also realizing that you’re a mentor to other people, and you have to start thinking about things that you never thought you needed to — overtime, maternity leave, respect in the workplace, the things that make the workplace enjoyable for everyone else who’s there working for you. And it’s not like that comes naturally.

The double blessing of having a good boss, which I did in Greg Daniels and Howard Klein [an executive producer on “The Office”], is that they modeled that for me. Even though I could not be more different than Greg. Even to this day, I’m realizing I have all the unique challenges of being a single mom, being the creator of these shows with crews and casts, but then also being able to be empathetic for all the people that work for me and making sure I make time to listen to them when they want to talk to me about an issue that they’re having; it’s a continual challenge that I’m hoping I’m getting better and better at [managing].

When Bill is asked about work-life balance, he’s also asked if he has inspirational words to impart. It’s very much about overworking and being productive. How do you tackle the question today?

I used to say “you have to write your own part.” And everyone would get annoyed because they’re like, “I’m not a writer.” I’ve had to really think about the question so I could be helpful. We all want a linear path to success. And if my career has taught me anything, it’s that the linear path just was not how I got my job. You know when you go on Google Maps and it shows you all the different paths — the fastest, one path with the toll road and one path that’s going to take seven minutes longer. I’ve only ever taken the one that’s seven minutes longer, or the toll; it’s never been the easy way. The sooner I got used to that, the better.

Before I let you go, in the show, one of the celebrity clients Abby is dealing with is Austin Blanchett, Cate Blanchett’s fictional nephew. Was it always going to be Cate? What other celebs were in the running?

It was Cate Blanchett’s nephew before we had Harry Richardson. When I worked on “Ocean’s Eight,” one of the biggest surprises on it was that Cate Blanchett was incredibly funny and did not take herself seriously at all. I suspect if anyone was going to think it was funny that in this fictional world of the show she had this useless nepo nephew that she had to help get jobs, it would be Cate. I hope she doesn’t sue me. I think she would think it was funny.

R&B singer Peabo Bryson, well known for his duets from beloved Disney classics “Aladdin” and “Beauty and the Beast,” suffered a stroke over the weekend.

A representative for the artist told The Times that the singer is undergoing treatment but provided no details about his condition.

“Two-time Grammy Award-winning singer, songwriter and balladeer, Peabo Bryson — the voice behind the Oscar-winning Disney songs ‘Beauty and the Beast’ and ‘A Whole New World’ — has suffered a stroke and is currently under medical care,” the representative said in an emailed statement. “At this time, the family requests privacy as they navigate this deeply personal moment together. The thoughts, prayers and love of friends and fans are welcomed and deeply appreciated.”

Bryson recently performed a concert with Jeffrey Osborne at Trilith Live in Fayetteville, Ga., in early May. The event was a standalone performance, apart from the crooner’s Golden Touch tour, which he announced last year, amid his celebration of 50 years in the music industry. In April, the Grammy winner turned 75 and posted photos on Instagram from a birthday bash showing him surrounded by friends and family. In early May, he posted a video of his son, Kitt, performing a Michael Jackson dance routine, writing “Super proud Dad moment from last nights Gig in Atlanta.”

Soul and funk band Maze, which was fronted by the late Frankie Beverly, shared some love for Bryson on social media.

“The entire Maze The Music Forever family sends our heartfelt prayers, love, and support to Peabo Bryson during this time of healing,” read the post. “Peabo’s extraordinary voice, timeless artistry, and unwavering contributions to music have touched millions around the world. We pray for God’s healing hand, renewed strength, comfort, and a full recovery.”

Ryan Porter, the acclaimed trombonist and fixture of the West Coast Get Down jazz ensemble, has died. He was 46.

Porter died Saturday from injuries sustained in a “severe” car crash on April 28, Porter’s bandmate Tony Austin wrote on Instagram. “Despite the best medical care, his condition deteriorated,” Austin wrote, noting that Porter “took his last breath, peacefully surrounded by his loved ones.”

Porter was a pivotal figure in contemporary Los Angeles jazz, beginning with his studies under legendary educator Reggie Andrews in the Multi-School Jazz Band in Watts. Porter formed close friendships and musical connections with saxophonist Kamasi Washington, multi-instrumentalist Terrace Martin, bassist Thundercat and the key players that would later form the West Coast Get Down.

“When it comes to keeping the lineage of jazz in L.A. alive, there have been people who were selfless and sacrificed a lot,” Porter told The Times in 2024. “For me back then, it was hard to understand why they cared so much. But it was because they saw potential in all of us so early, so we could see it for ourselves.”

That group cultivated a following at Leimert Park’s beloved venue the World Stage. They would go on to craft dense, experimental and spiritually yearning compositions for Kendrick Lamar’s 2015 LP “To Pimp a Butterfly,” among countless other LPs in the L.A. jazz scene, including Washington’s 2015 breakthrough “The Epic.”

Porter released four solo albums in his career — 2018’s “The Optimist,” 2019’s “Force for Good,” and 2022’s “Resilience,” along with his 2017 children’s album “Spangle-Lang Lane” — each featuring arrangements from his lifelong bandmates. In 2024, he released a documentary film, “Resilience,” focused on the impact of free music education programs in Los Angeles and how they helped build the city’s modern jazz scene.

“In the inner city, you can be a gang member or drug dealer, but most kids want to take their best steps,” Porter said in 2024. “Friends and music teachers inspired me through their work ethic, giving us a place to perform where we could take advantage of that expertise. Now it’s our turn to take care of them for the next generation.”

Washington, Porter’s frequent collaborator, remembered Porter in a poignant statement on Instagram. “I love you Ryan Porter, I miss you, and you will always have a space in my heart and soul. I will cherish the many years we had together, I thought we would have more, but I am thankful for what we had,” he wrote, adding, “You have been my friend for most of my life. I’ve looked up to you since I was 11 years old. We learned from each other, we supported each other, we created beautiful music together and shared it with people all over the world.”

“You would always tell me that you wanted more than anything else to be a FORCE FOR GOOD and you did it, you are the complete embodiment of that,” Washington continued. “You did so much good Ryan, your life made this world better.”

Porter is survived by two daughters, both of whom are preparing for college, according to a GoFundMe page set up by his friends to contribute to funeral costs and support his children. “Beyond the stage and beyond the music, Ryan’s greatest pride was being a father and provider for his family,” the fundraiser states.

Rapper Rob Base, one-half of the hip-hop duo Rob Base & DJ E-Z Rock, died on Friday after a battle with cancer. He was 59.

“Rob’s music, energy, and legacy helped shape a generation and brought joy to millions around the world. Beyond the stage, he was a loving father, family man, friend and creative force whose impact will never be forgotten,” a statement on Base’s Instagram read.

The statement also expressed gratitude to Base, who was surrounded by family as he died, for “the music, the memories and the moments that became the soundtrack to our lives.”

Rob Base was born Robert Ginyard in May 1967. He was best known for his collaborations with DJ E-Z Rock. The two were lifelong friends, meeting in fifth grade while living in Harlem. Their song “It Takes Two” was released in 1988 by Profile Records. The song became a breakout single for the duo and peaked at No. 3 on the Billboard U.S. dance club songs chart, with The Times calling “It Takes Two” “the rage of the rap underground.”

The duo followed up the hit with the release of the singles “Joy and Pain” and “Get On the Dance Floor.” Base released his solo album, “The Incredible Base,” in 1989.

Base was an ardent supporter of the rap genre, explaining to The Times in 1989 the nuance of the music.

“People outside rap don’t understand it. There’s all sorts of subtle things — key things — happening over and above the beat in rap songs. The fans want new stuff all the time,” Base said.

Base had two children, De’Jené Ginyard and Robert Ginyard Jr. His wife, April, died in 2013.

It’s not merely trendy psychologizing to salute the qualities of a sturdy tree: a humbling reminder of time’s immensity, but also a living embodiment of shelter, change and growth. Leave it, then, to a massive gingko on the grounds of a medieval German town’s college to cosmically center the three-pronged, multi-generational character study “Silent Friend” from Hungarian filmmaker Ildikó Enyedi.

Enyedi, from her mesmeric, calling-card period lark “My Twentieth Century” to the eccentric love story “On Body and Soul,” has always been preoccupied with that realm in which the everyday meets the all-seeing and possibility is awakened. So it shouldn’t surprise anyone that she’d give a starring role to a 200-year-old tree, which just may inspire the needed answers. And why not? Our living, “breathing,” sky-reaching neighbors have considerable communication skills with each other.

Our entryway is a modern day neuroscientist played by Tony Leung Chiu-wai (and called Tony), who arrives at the University of Marburg as a visiting professor ready to further his groundbreaking research into the mysteries of infant brain development. The gig becomes a lonely endeavor, however, when the pandemic hits and he’s confined to a depopulated campus, sent unwillingly into a kind of monkhood.

It’s as if the nearby natural world, photographed by Gergely Pálos and edited by Károly Szalai, was just waiting for such a solitary moment to draw Tony’s undivided attention into the prospect of green intelligence.

In tandem, Enyedi transports us to 1908 to meet aspiring botanist Grete (Luna Wedler), the university’s first female student, subjected to cruelly patronizing treatment by smug male elders, yet driven to see plants anew when introduced to the light-capturing rigor of photography. The movie’s third woven-in protagonist is a wide-eyed, resourceful farm boy, Hannes (Enzo Brumm), in 1972. While his fellow students spark to the winds of political change and sexual freedom, he becomes fixated on what a lone geranium, imaginatively monitored on its windowsill, might have to convey if given the chance.

The fluid, idiosyncratic charm of “Silent Friend” — which never feels like two and a half hours — is in Enyedi’s heartfelt belief that curiosity is simply a garden that grows progress. It doesn’t hurt, of course, that this veteran dreamweaver’s key cast are entrancing, inviting specimens themselves, led by an inner glow of compassion in Leung that feels like its own natural energy source. When his character contacts Léa Seydoux’s French plant expert, it becomes almost too much rapturously intelligent star wattage for one quietly poetic movie, even if these god-tier actors are just zooming and talking shop.

Hardly anything is overdone here and, in one essential way, Enyedi is also making the case for movies themselves as phenomena to protect and treasure: ecosystems of light, texture, wonder and nourishment. Visually, the film toggles between intimate 35mm black-and-white, grainy 16mm color and multi-purpose digital cameras that visually represent distinct eras. Needless to say, that gingko tree is sublime and majestic in all of them.

Clarence Carter, the blues and soul singer famous for songs including the raunchy hit “Strokin’” featured in Eddie Murphy’s “The Nutty Professor,” has died.

Fame Recording Studios in Carter’s native Alabama announced the singer-songwriter’s death Thursday morning. In a statement shared to Facebook, the studio said Carter “was more than an artist to us,” adding he “was family.” The post did not disclose additional details about Carter’s passing, including the cause of death. Carter was 90.

The Grammy-nominated musician, who was blind since age 1, was most popular in the late 1960s and early ’70s, with chart-busting hits including 1968’s romantic “Slip Away,” 1970’s “Patches” and the Christmas hit “Back Door Santa.” He released a steady stream of music through the ’90s — Carter released 22 studio albums over the course of his career — and earned two Grammy Award nominations.

Carter received his first nod in 1970 for composing ex-wife Candi Staton’s single “I’d Rather Be an Old Man’s Sweetheart,” which was nominated for the rhythm & blues song category. He received his own nomination in R&B vocal performance the following year for his story-driven “Patches,” about a young man fulfilling his father’s expectations.

Former Times pop music critic Robert Hilburn wrote in 1992: “Clarence Carter is one of the most overlooked soul stylists of the modern pop era.”

Among Carter’s musical talents was a knack for descriptive lyricism, which he channeled for unapologetically sexual songs “G Spot” and “Strokin’.” In these numbers, Carter spares no detail in his approach to lovemaking. “Strokin’,’” released in 1986, notably received play in 1996‘s “The Nutty Professor” as Murphy’s titular character drives over to a date.

Born in 1936 in Montgomery, Ala., Carter took an interest in music in his youth, enjoying the blues records his stepfather bought and learning to play the guitar. “I would lie in my bed and hear those bands playing and say to myself, ‘One of these days I’m going to play just like that,’” he told The Times in 1987.

He graduated from Alabama State College in 1960 with a bachelor’s in music and worked briefly as a schoolteacher before beginning his professional music career. Carter formed a duo with friend and singer Calvin Scott, but his collaborator was later seriously injured in an automobile accident. Carter then went solo and began recording music with producer Rick Hall and Fame in Muscle Shoals, amid the late-’60s soul boom.

After the success of his early hits in the ’70s, Carter struggled to find the same chart success amid disco’s popularity. “Nobody’s gonna keep a hit record all the time,” he told The Times. In the early ’80s, his “Working on a Love Building” was a moderate hit. Carter signed to Ichiban Records to record his 1986 album “Dr. C.C.,” which featured “Strokin’” among its tracks.

“By the time I finished doing that song and walked back up to the control room, [the engineer] was laughing so hard he hadn’t even turned the tape machine off,” he said a year after the hit’s release.

Carter released his final studio album, “Sing Along With Clarence Carter,” in 2011 but continued to release live albums and compilations until 2020. He also continued performing live through the 2010s.

The singer-songwriter was married to Staton from 1970 to 1973 and they share a son, Clarence Carter Jr. He married Joyce Jenkins in 2001 and has lived in DeKalb County, Ga., since 1983.

“Clarence Carter leaves behind a legacy of timeless music, unforgettable performances, and a friendship we will always cherish,” Fame Studios said in its statement. “We extend our love and prayers to his family, friends, and fans around the world.”

When a friend asked if Tom Steyer could stop by my wife Delilah’s downtown Santa Ana restaurant, I had to explain to her who he was.

It’s not political apathy in my honey’s case. She’s just exhausted from running her small business, Alta Baja Market, in these inflationary times. She’s one of the 16% of undecided voters in a recent California Democratic Party poll — a group that may determine which two candidates for governor face each other in the general election.

Delilah agreed that Steyer could visit on Saturday after I told her that many of our friends support the billionaire’s progressive platform.

“Politics is your job, not mine,” she joked as we drove to Alta Baja and I named the other major candidates. The only ones she had heard of were Antonio Villaraigosa (“I liked him as mayor, but he needed to keep his pants on,” referring to his extramarital affairs) and Katie Porter (“Some of my workers like her, but I don’t know what she’s done”). She might be the last person left in the Golden State who hasn’t seen any of Steyer’s television and YouTube ads.

His campaign seems to have stalled in the polls even as he has spent more than $150 million of his own money amid doubts from some voters about whether they want a billionaire to lead the state.

So a visit to Santa Ana, the heart of Latino Orange County, was a good move. At Alta Baja, he could talk to my Mexican American wife and other blue-collar Latinos.

When rival Xavier Becerra came to O.C. a few weeks ago, on the other hand, he appeared at a private fundraiser attended mostly by professional Latinos.

“I just want someone who tells us where our taxes are going and treats this country like a business, and we’re not wasting money,” Delilah said. She’s a socially liberal and fiscally conservative Democrat who has been especially angered by President Trump’s deportation deluge, which left the streets of downtown Santa Ana empty for months last summer. “Because right now, our government is a hot-ass mess.”

I asked what questions she had for Steyer.

“So insurance had to cover all the disasters that happened with the fires,” Delilah replied. “So why is everybody else having to pay for it? And what are you really gonna do to help the state?”

She paused. “Tom is a Democrat, right?”

Delilah prepared for Steyer’s noontime stop as if it were any other day. She has fed the likes of U.S. Sen. Alex Padilla, Orange County Dist. Atty. Todd Spitzer and former Speaker of the Assembly Anthony Rendon. Republican gubernatorial candidate Steve Hilton is a fan of Alta Baja’s blue cornbread; Oakland Mayor Barbara Lee held a meet-and-greet there when she ran for president two years ago.

“You know who should ask questions?” Delilah said after she set the till for the day. “Angela.”

That would be 19-year-old Alta Baja employee Angela Nino, who will be voting in her first election.

“She’ll always be telling me, ‘Did you see the debate? Did you see the debate?’ And I always say, ‘No, I’m too tired to watch.’”

Nino soon clocked in.

“Guess who’s coming, Angela?” Delilah said before looking at me. “Is his name Tim or Tom?”

“It’s like I agree with some of his things, but he’s a billionaire,” said the Orange Coast College student and Santa Ana resident when I asked about Steyer. “His answers at debates have been pretty broad so far.”

Delilah smiled.

“You’re the future, girl, so ask him anything.”

Almost everyone who came in as we waited for Steyer was a campaign worker or volunteer. Former state Controller Betty Yee, who ended her campaign for governor last month and endorsed Steyer, sat at a table with her husband. Orange County Supervisor Vicente Sarmiento, who initiated Steyer’s Santa Ana visit, thanked Delilah for the opportunity. He has known her since the start of his political career on the Santa Ana City Council nearly 20 years ago,

“This is a city where our residents were criminalized because of ICE, our downtown suffered because of construction, and all this on the heels of a pandemic,” he told me. “These are the folks Tom needs to listen to.”

Sarmiento’s staffer got his attention. Steyer was here.

The candidate strolled in with a videographer and photographer. He wore his usual casual billionaire outfit — white-and-cardinal Nikes, jeans, checkered shirt with rolled-up sleeves and a colorful Southwestern-style fabric belt.

Steyer went straight to the counter.

“Are you running for governor?” he cracked while shaking Delilah’s hand.

“I don’t want to,” she replied.

“I knew you were a smart woman!”

He listened with wide eyes and a stern face as Delilah complained about a years-long light-rail project in front of Alta Baja “that has been worse for businesses here than COVID.” Insurance rates have gone up 30% in the last year alone, she said.

“Well, look, that’s my whole thing,” Steyer responded in his low, gravelly voice. “I’m willing to take on the big corporations who are ripping off California. And they’re all spending a lot of money against me.”

It was the Steyer I’ve heard on too many commercials: pugnacious, compassionate but spouting a whole bunch of boilerplate. Delilah smiled weakly.

“I appreciate that,” she said. “And we need more of that.”

Then she waved Nino over. Usually shy, the architecture major now channeled her inner Lesley Stahl.

“Why do you have to be governor in order to do something while you have billions of dollars?” she said.

Steyer didn’t flinch as he explained how he has funded ballot propositions and nonprofit initiatives to fight for a more equitable California.

“So I’ve been able to do something, but what I see in California — and what Delilah and I were just talking about — is big corporations actually run the state,” he said.

“That’s true,” Nino conceded.

“You have to take on the big corporations that are screwing everybody. And you can really only do that as governor,” Steyer continued.

“You want to tax the billionaires, is that correct?” Nino asked next, as Steyer nodded. “How come on some [campaign disclosure] forms, it shows that your billions are in different [countries] besides in the U.S.?”

The candidate vigorously shook his head.

“I might have investments outside the United States, but there’s nothing I’m doing to not pay — I pay full California and American taxes on everything, promise. There’s a lot of ways I could avoid taxes, but I don’t. And so, anything that I’m doing overseas is not to avoid taxes. … I give you my word.”

One more from Nino!

“And how can the people trust billionaires when currently they have been very disappointing towards us?”

“I understand why people are skeptical,” Steyer replied. “They couldn’t be more skeptical than I am.”

He argued that other moguls “are supporting every other candidate. Those people hate me — like, they think I stand for something really bad, which is making them pay their fair share,” referring to a proposed November ballot initiative that would impose a one-time 5% tax on billionaires like Steyer (he supports the measure).

“And they’re right,” Steyer concluded. “And so it’s like, they hate me, and that’s fine.”

Nino stayed silent. Delilah thanked Steyer, who was off to visit other local businesses owned by friends of ours. He bought a bottle of rosé, posed for photos with Delilah and Sarmiento and went off — but not before a staffer adjusted the back of his collar.

Delilah and Nino went back to prepping lunch orders. What did they think about Steyer?

“To be honest, I’m so skeptical,” Nino said. “I don’t think he has enough experience as some of the other candidates, and I feel like he could have been more into detail about his policies.”

What about you, honey?

“Gracious, very kind and not pompous, which is what I would expect from most politicians,” Delilah said. “I like that he heard out Angela — that’s important [that] politicians listen to the next generation, and I think everybody should be doing that. But I wasn’t satisfied with my insurance question.”

“And we don’t know if this is a performance,” Nino added, drawing a playful gasp from Delilah. “We’ve seen, like, throughout the years, many political people go into, like, regular [businesses] to seem like, ‘Oh, we’re relatable to the people. We know your struggles.’”

“Do they really?” Delilah interjected.

Nino frowned.

They could just be putting on a show for the cameras, she said.

The most recent death on Mt. Wilson claimed the life of a man identified as New Zealand-born, L.A.-based composer Mark Smythe. Following the tragedy, his colleagues and family poured out their hearts as they remembered a man they called smart, funny and a true supporter of his peers.

Smythe died Saturday at 53 after suffering a cardiac emergency on a hiking trail, according to the coroner’s online database. His cause of death was atherosclerotic cardiovascular disease, in which plaque builds up in arterial walls and can lead to a heart attack.

The Sierra Madre Police Department said Saturday that a man — at that point unidentified — died after having a medical emergency on the trail and that no foul play was suspected. First responders arrived at the site around 10 a.m. and administered aid but were unable to save his life.

Smythe had been head of the department of Composing for Visual Media at Los Angeles Music College since last summer, according to his website. Among other honors, he was nominated for a 2023 Society of Composers and Lyricists Award for his work scoring the movie “The Reef: Stalked.”

Kate Ward-Smythe, the composer’s sister, acknowledged his death late Sunday on Facebook.

“It is a comfort to know that he was doing one of the things he loved, hiking in the hills, and we are grateful to his wonderful friends (and emergency service responders) who tried so hard to resuscitate him,” she wrote.

“Mark was a strong larger than life connector in LA, as a professor, composer, musician, and loyal friend. He was also fiercely talented, and an absolute cheerleader for music performance and recording across multiple genres.. he was only just getting started and had so much more to give .. We are heartbroken and trying to process this tragedy, as are all Mark’s friends and family.”

Bear McCreary, known for scoring TV series including “Outlander,” “The Walking Dead,” “Black Sails” and “Snowpiercer” and movies including “Happy Death Day,” “Godzilla: King of the Monsters” and Blumhouse’s “Fantasy Island,” called news of Smythe’s death “awful and surreal,” saying they had just been chatting at a mutual friend’s party a few weeks ago.

“Mark’s enthusiasm and humor were off the charts,” McCreary wrote Sunday on Instagram. “He brought a shark with a bowtie to the red carpet of an SCL awards ceremony when he was nominated for his work on a shark movie – hilarious! When he found out I was writing a metal album, he curated his favorite German folk metal bands for me (turning me on to his favorite band, Finsterforst).”

Having said he always thought he would get to know Smythe better one day, McCreary called his death “a stark reminder to spend time with the people you care about while you can.”

John Massari, who has more than 150 music credits stretching back to “Little House on the Prairie” and contributed music to TV series including “Dancing With the Stars,” “Pawn Stars” and “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia,” said in comments that “Mark was a bright light and a refreshing spirit in our community. He is greatly missed.”

“I’m so deeply sad to lose my friend. Mark, I miss you and love you. Thank you for your love, passion, humor, and joy and for always making me feel loved and valued,” singer Baraka May, whose voice can be heard in “Avatar: Fire and Ash,” “Wicked: For Good” and “Beavis and Butt-Head,” wrote Monday on Instagram.

“He was funny and snarky and whip-smart, yet when we collaborated, he just melted into the music and gushed like a fan with child-like wonder. What a tremendous heart and mind!” the vocalist wrote. “I had the honor of collaborating with him on three of his beautiful pieces as a conductor, and I loved his boyish, genuine joy and excitement even in our rehearsals. He wrote and voiced his music beautifully, which often felt haunting, romantic, deep, and sensitive, and his bass playing was so beautiful and thoughtful. He was such a vivid, enthusiastic music lover, and I was very much looking forward to making more music with him.”

The Los Angeles Film Conducting Intensive also mourned the loss, saying online that “Mark was a brilliant talent and a genuine friend to all, a true pillar in our scoring community.

“During the pandemic, Mark generously joined our 2020 New Music Project to support new repertoire for our music community during a time of great uncertainty and when most traditional pieces could not be performed.”

The Hollywood Music in Media Awards remembered Smythe winning a career-propelling prize at the organization’s 2013 ceremony, soon after he arrived in L.A. from New Zealand.

“He quickly built a distinguished body of work for film, shorts, and television, earned multiple HMMA nominations, served as COO of the Society of Composers & Lyricists, and returned to present at the 2018 HMMA Gala,” the organization wrote. “Mark’s talent and generosity enriched our community — he will be greatly missed.”

Smythe’s death was the second this month on Mt. Wilson. On May 3, a man identified as John McIntyre, 66, was declared dead on the same trail after falling down a ravine at Mt. Wilson Road and the Little Santa Anita fire break in Sierra Madre. His cause of death was blunt force injuries.

When political commentator Ana Navarro recently arrived at Mercado Little Spain, the José Andrés-owned food hall downstairs from CNN’s New York studios, a seat was ready for her constant companion, a rust-colored miniature poodle named ChaCha.

“I am her service human because I’m servicing her all day,” Navarro said of the well-behaved pooch who has been by her side since the 2020 COVID-19 lockdown.

As Navarro and a reporter order tapas dishes for the next two hours, patrons at nearby tables raise their cellphone cameras. Andrés’ daughter Carlota stops by and gives an update on her father, a Navarro pal. Later, a Spanish-speaking young woman comes over and thanks Navarro, a political exile from Nicaragua, for defending immigrants amid the aggressive deportation efforts of the Trump administration.

In a fragmented media world where critical mass is becoming harder to attain, Navarro has become one of media’s most recognizable political talking heads thanks to her two high-profile TV roles.

She is a co-host of ABC’s “The View,” the No. 1-rated daytime talk show that has become a target in Federal Communications Commission Chairman Brendan Carr’s efforts to discipline President Trump’s broadcast media critics. She is also a regular panelist on CNN’s roundtable program “NewsNight with Abby Phillip,” which extends its reach far beyond its modest ratings through frequent viral clips on social media.

In February, Navarro, 54, joined the growing list of media personalities who have launched a digital platform to reach consumers no longer watching traditional TV with a weekly podcast for iHeart called “Bleep! With Ana Navarro.”

Navarro is her uncut self on “Bleep!” She interviews guests but can also go into a 30-plus minute monologue without a script when she records at iHeart’s midtown Manhattan studios, where ChaCha looks on from a cushy pillow.

Navarro delivers her arguments against the Trump administration as if she’s schmoozing with friends across a kitchen table. She always appears calm but as the podcast title suggests, she serves up a few four-letter words she doesn’t use on TV.

“Bleep!” gives Navarro her own platform at a time when the legacy media networks she works at are under pressure. Upheaval is expected at CNN if parent company Warner Bros. Discovery becomes a part of Paramount and its Trump-friendly owners David and Larry Ellison.

Carr recently called for an early review of ABC’s TV station licenses. He said its related to an investigation into parent company Disney’s diversity practices but it comes amid the administration’s criticism of the network’s Trump coverage, which has included “The View.”

Ana Navarro on the set of ABC’s “The View.”

(Lou Rocco (ABC))

Navarro was pulled into the fray last year when she was approached by Walt Disney Co. Chief Executive Bob Iger at ABC’s upfront advertiser presentation in New York. The huddle led to reports that they discussed the anti-Trump commentary on “The View.”

“We had an honest conversation but I’m not going to tell you what it was,” she said. “Nobody is muscling us. All I’ve got to do is show up and do the same thing that I’ve always done, which is be as truthful, and authentic and informed.”

(On Friday, ABC filed a petition with the FCC over the agency’s recent scrutiny of “The View,” and whether the program qualifies for an exemption from seldom enforced equal time rules for political candidates. The network accused the FCC of actions violating its 1st Amendment right to free speech.)

Navarro has been pounding at Trump for so long, it’s hard to remember that her rise as a TV pundit began 14 years ago when she was a loyal conservative Republican. Jeff Zucker, who ran CNN from 2012 to 2022, said her personal evolution sets her apart from other pundits.

“She’s funny, insightful, knows how to turn a phrase and she’s gone on a political journey,” Zucker said in a recent interview. “So she understands the entire political spectrum as well as anyone.”

Navarro was eight years old in 1980 when her family fled Nicaragua and sought political asylum in the U.S. after the socialist Sandinista National Liberation Front took power. Her father stayed behind to fight with the anti-communist rebel Contras in the country’s civil war.

“Reagan was taking on the Sandinistas when Bernie Sanders wasn’t,” she said.

She was granted amnesty and became a U.S. citizen under the immigration reform bill signed by President Reagan in 1986.

Growing up in Miami, Navarro was part of the enclave of Latinos whose political perspectives were shaped by having fled Fidel’s Castro’s Cuba and other communist regimes in Latin America. She became a political operative in Republican politics, starting in local Miami races and eventually served as national Hispanic chair for 2008 GOP presidential nominee John McCain. Her Cuban-born husband, Al Cardenas, was on Reagan’s transition team and once led the Republican Party in Florida.

Navarro watched in dismay in 2015 when Trump came down the escalator of the midtown Manhattan skyscraper that bears his name to announce he was seeking the Republican presidential nomination. “Calling Mexicans rapists and criminals — that just hurt my heart,” she said.

When Trump mocked a disabled journalist during a campaign rally, Navarro was reminded of family struggles with one of her older brothers, who has non-verbal autism and is self-injurious. “That brought back so much outrage and anger,” she said. “For me that was a line I could never forgive.”

But being an anti-Trump Republican has become a lonelier job in recent years as the party establishment’s support solidified behind Trump during the historically successful campaign in 2024 that returned him to the White House. For Navarro, it has meant the end of many long-standing relationships.

“I’ve lost some very close friends over Donald Trump,” she said. “And I’ve had to make peace with that. They feel that I’ve betrayed the Republican Party. Some of them think I’m an opportunist, doing this for today.”

One of those friends is Secretary of State Marco Rubio, who she’s known her entire adult life. Navarro still has his cell number in her contacts, but it’s been awhile since she’s called. She still respects Rubio‘s credentials in foreign policy but doesn’t see herself ever supporting him if he runs for president.

“Unless he was running against Satan incarnate, no, I would not go over to him,” she said.

Navarro keeps her cool on “NewsNight,” which occasionally erupts into bedlam when guests clash with Scott Jennings, the show’s resident MAGA Republican. But she misses the days of sparring with Democratic operative Donna Brazile when they were on opposing sides on CNN’s Washington set, and then went out for oysters and wine at Old Ebbitt Grill afterward.

“It’s a completely different world than it was,” Navarro said.

The highly self-confident Navarro has always spoken her mind, encouraged by her father and the Sacred Heart nuns who operated her private school in Miami where she still resides. “Those nuns could run Fortune 500 companies,” she said.

She is not afraid to draw on her own painful, personal experiences to deliver a point. Another older brother died of a heart attack at age 38. Her cousin’s son was a fatality at the 2016 Pulse night club shooting in Orlando, Fla.

“I refuse to live in hopelessness and trauma,” she said. “The things I’ve gone through have shaped me into who I am and made me resilient and empathetic. One of the reasons I abhor Donald Trump is because he completely lacks empathy.”

Where Navarro often separates herself from most Democrats is foreign policy. When Venezuela President Nicolás Maduro was ousted and arrested by U.S. forces, Navarro, on holiday in Madrid, joined exiles from the country as they celebrated in Puerta del Sol.

Navarro expects to have the same reaction if Trump makes good on his threats to end Cuba’s communist regime.

“I will go out there with my metal pan and my metal spoon and I will bang the drums in joy,” she said.

Matthew Perry’s collection of “Friends” memorabilia, fine art and other prized possessions is going up for auction next month, nearly three years after the actor died at age 54.

Auction house Heritage Auctions announced Tuesday that it will partner with the Matthew Perry Foundation to sell the late actor’s collection. The proceeds will go toward the nonprofit, which seeks to support people living with addiction and move past the stigma that surrounds substance use abuse disorder.

The auction for items from Perry’s estate officially begins June 5, but interested buyers can preview the items from May 18 to May 29 at Heritage Auction’s showroom in Beverly Hills. They can also start placing proxy bids. The listed items notably include plenty of “Friends” memorabilia, ranging from art pieces depicting the TV cast to magazines featuring the “Friends” crew and Perry to episode scripts signed by the cast. Currently, the bid for the signed script of the “Friends” pilot is set at $3,600.

Perry’s painted portraits are up for sale as are his Screen Actors Guild Award from 1995 (he and his co-stars won the prize for performance by an ensemble in a television comedy) and trio of nomination certificates. Perry famously portrayed the wisecracking Chandler Bing in the hit sitcom, which aired on NBC from 1994 to 2004. He starred alongside Courteney Cox, Matt LeBlanc, Lisa Kudrow, David Schwimmer and Jennifer Aniston.

Before his death, Perry shared his love for Batman via social media, often calling himself “Mattman.” His Batman fandom is also abundantly clear in the more than two dozen items of Batman-inspired art, furniture and trinkets that are also up for sale.

The actor and author’s personal art and vintage movie posters collection — including a pair of Banksy works, a piece by Pablo Picasso and a framed “It’s a Wonderful Life” movie poster signed by its star James “Jimmy” Stewart— are among the listings. A handful of miscellaneous items — sports gear and equipment, a Nintendo GameCube, accessories and fine jewelry and a black bi-fold wallet — are also up for auction. The full catalog of listed items can be found on the website for Heritage Auctions.

“Matthew believed addiction should be met with compassion and science, not stigma and silence,” Lisa Kasteler Calio, chief executive of the Matthew Perry Foundation, said in Tuesday’s announcement. “This auction fuels the Foundation’s work to expand access to evidence-based care and confront stigma. It is one more way we ensure that no one has to fight this disease alone.”

Perry, who had been open about his struggles with addiction, died Oct. 28, 2023, from acute effects of ketamine, a drug sometimes used to treat depression, officials said. The woman known as the “ketamine queen” who provided the drugs that killed Perry was sentenced last month to 15 years in prison. Jasveen Sangha pleaded guilty in September to one count of maintaining drug-involved premises, three counts of distribution of ketamine and one count of distribution of ketamine resulting in death or serious bodily injury.