Chapter One: Harmony, CaliforniaEverything falls into place, irrelevancies relate, dissonance becomes harmony, and nonsense wears a crown of meaning.
The search began in Malibu, of all places, on a mist-shrouded Tuesday morning in January. It was the kind of coastal phenomenon in which the sky becomes darker and the sea lighter until they blend into a gray void where the horizon is supposed to be. The horizon is perspective, and already it was gone.
We had started in late December, heading from Chicago to Los Angeles along the bastard sons of Route 66 -- I-55, I-44, I-40, I-15, and I-10, a new...