It seemed appropriate to pay attention. A full moon lights this New Year’s Eve, by necessity, a blue moon. At fifty-two, I have the time and relative lack of commitments to pause a moment, or two, or more than several and pay attention. They happen, or so I am told, about every nineteen years or…
Since when did we as a nation, as concerned citizens, as parents lose the capacity to judge babies having babies, to condemn teenagers having unprotected sex?
What will it do to every American mother’s and father’s ability to discourage their children from having sex before marriage and to insist, failing that, upon proper precautions not just against pregnancy but against deadly sexually transmitted diseases if we rollover to a wave of Republican permissiveness and install the bad example of Bristol and Levi in the White House?
Is it fair to Palin to hold her responsible for her daughter’s mistakes?
Certainly not. It is horribly unfair.
But since when has the national interest become secondary to fairness to politicians?
Of course, both my real and nominal depression upon the mere mention of my impending 50th birthday are greatly, I would say, sufficiently dramatized. THE LATEST SENSATION: WEEKS IN THE MAKING! Indeed, Drama is how we slow things down, to give us time to think. OK, one of the ways. Nothing new here. Read Dickens,…
Listening to the Rolling Stones’ Sweet Virginia, from now so long ago, trying to remember Pre-Reagan America, but having difficulty. Afterall, we all grew up with the bastard as Governor, too. Sixteen years, all told. Nevertheless, in 1972, Nixon’s ultimate demise was already a vague shiny dream, glowing brightly on the great land’s horizon upon…
It is not unknown to me how many men have had, and still have, the opinion that the affairs of the world are in such wise governed by fortune and by God that men with their wisdom cannot direct them and that no one can even help them; and because of this they would have…
When I saw the flat, I knew that this would be the place where I would live for years to come. It just had a certain feel to it. The rooms were spacious and bright. The kitchen was quite large. It had a utility room and hookups for a washer and dryer. There was also…
You know, for the past twenty-five years, I’ve always had a sense that American management was composed mostly of those from our parents’ generation, but it now seems that today American management is composed of those from Gen-X. How was it possible, that we, the baby boom generation, the largest generation in American history, were cut loose from our fair share of controlling destiny?
Last night, I went, invited by the coolest young couple I know in San Diego,
to one of the city’s most notorious dive clubs, The Casbah, to hear
Steve Poltz
(a.k.a., The Rugburns, co-writer of the hit that launched Jewel’s career, the
undisputed king of the 40 second
answering machine song, and, well, Steve Poltz)
do his solo, heavy Cathoholic drinking routine.
Whether or to what extent "The Jerry Springer Show" is in tune with America or America is being tuned by "The Jerry Springer Show," I’ll leave for you to consider as I present this little, "real-life" carnival mirror from one of America’s most telling of places, the California freeway.
I recent read an article quoting the late Herb Caen, my favorite San Francisco columnist. When asked his opinion of Southland, he replied, "I’d like to get to know Los Angeles, but I never can find it."
Unlike Herb, after much serious thought and extensive investigation I think I have found it–but I can’t hold on to it.