Oh, the memories that flooded back yesterday, the first anniversary of the first — and only — public performance by my LA band The Romanovs. The St. Rocke club in Hermosa Beach, south of LAX, had finally agreed to let us play after I’d sent them (and every other club between Santa Barbara and the Mexican border) around a million emails eloquently imploring them to give us a shot. I drove down on the big day with our Russian-born singer, Lisa Motorina, as my passenger, though I’d gone off her for never being on time to rehearsal, and for regularly keeping me waiting 10 minutes, after I’d shown up right on time, in front of her squalid Hollywood apartment.