Van Dyke Parks: California Dreamer
Erik Himmelsbach, LA Reader, 17 November 1995
THE KITCHEN door swings open, and a tiny voice wafts into the dining room, warbling with gusto "...are the luckiest people in the world." Suddenly, a dapper white-haired man emerges, arms outstretched in full production-number mode. Wearing a Hawaiian-print shirt, white drawstring pants pulled up a bit too high, red socks, and brown Birkenstocks, Van Dyke Parks is ready to rumble. Time for a hootenanny.
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