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Forty years ago, as Washington D.C. prepared to welcome President Jimmy Carter, jackhammers were employed to chip ice from the parade route. Republican senator Ted Stevens invited the president-elect to move the inaugural festivities to his home state of Alaska, where it was warmer than in the nation’s capital. But the weather sucked everywhere —…
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Two photos taken 364 days apart. On the left, the first blank page of a book as I sat down to begin writing exactly one year ago, on Jan. 4, 2016. On the right, that book–almost finished–on the far end of the year and as it arrived yesterday in the mail from the good folks…
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Bruce Springsteen was talking about compromise last night. Adult compromise, as viewed by the kids startled to first discover Mom and Dad had hopes and dreams. The world takes some of those away. You choose to let go of others. These aren’t easy choices. What the kids don’t see, Bruce said, are “the blessings of compromise.”…
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A few days after Christmas, my dad and I were browsing the Powell’s on Hawthorne when I noticed a copy of the first Harry Potter book illustrated. “Stell might be old enough to dig that,” I said. Then I looked at the price tag. At $40, she could wait to enjoy it. Dad being Dad, he…
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I saw Motorhead once, a few years ago at the Roseland. I went because it was Motorhead and I’d never seen Motorhead and I wanted to be able to say I’d seen Motorhead. I wanted to hear Lemmy roar. I wanted to lean into mythical volume. It was cold outside, sold out inside. So it was…
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Back in the newsroom days, a fun thing to do was to pass along to an editor any press release referring to The First Annual Anything. “THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS FIRST ANNUAL,” the editor would say. Grumbling would ensue. Before it’s too too late, welcome to the first Ryan White & Associates Gift…
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Last night I watched a team give up more than 700 yards of offense and win. The same team that, two weeks ago, rushed for 400 yards and lost. In the Big Ten, where I grew up, if you rush for 400 yards they give you the keys to the conference and a new tractor.…
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For who, really, is the sucker? The sucker, or the sucker who buys the suckers?
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I was squatting a food court table at Detroit’s Metro Airport on Wednesday night, keeping careful watch on a coloring book, crayons, a couple of water bottles, some stuffed animals, crumbling snacks and an iPad paused on some shit bit of Barbie brand management. Our flight was delayed, but that had nothing to do with the state of…
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The studio where Bruce Springsteen made “Born to Run” is a carwash now. An “Auto Spa,” technically, and I guess there are much less sensical options. I mean, once Mary got in that car and they headed off down “Thunder Road,” it was bound to get dirty. This summer marks the 40th anniversary of Born…
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