Brian Wilson: The Last Brother

ALL OF ST. CHARLES is racing to eat before the sunsets and the kids melt down. At 5:30 p.m. on a Saturday, a time when may Angelenos are just rolling out of bed, the locals of this Illinois city are pouring into the La Za Za Trattoria, a family-friendly kind of place. A sentry of highchairs lines one wall, and the occasional shriek of a cooped-up child provides dissonant harmony to the changing of silverware against plates and the chorus of disjointed conversations. The racket at La Za Za is music to Brian Wilson’s one good ear.