For the last few years I have been preaching about the plight of journalism, banging the drum to sound the alarm for anyone who would listen.
I have repeatedly pleaded for all of us to support our local newspapers. I have brought attention to mass layoffs, restructurings and sales in the industry. I have lamented what the vultures have done to community newspapers across the country.
For the most part, like many others who take on this fight, I’ve failed to make much of a dent. And the losses keep coming.
Just this year (so far): CNN cut 100 jobs…
A lot of words ran through my head Wednesday as hooligans breached the Capitol: Sedition and insurrection among them. A few I won’t repeat. I’ve become quite fond of “putsch,” it has a certain fitting Germanic flair.
But I’ve held off putting into words my reaction to the events of that day. Far more of a hothead in my youth, I’ve learned over the years to wait and let cooler heads prevail, even when that head might be my own.
Looking back now, with the benefit of time, I realize my primary reactions are anger and sadness.
The sadness, that…
As I get older, a lot of memories start to become “generic.” By that, I mean that I remember attending assemblies in elementary school, but not necessarily specific ones. But one I do remember sparked a life-long love affair with minor league baseball.
We had just watched a Phillies “season in review” film in the “All-Purpose Room” — part cafeteria, part assembly hall with stage, part gym — when the “Sillie Phillie” emerged from behind the screen. He was some sort of red, Phanatic-like creation that served as the mascot for the Reading Phillies. …
I spotted an article the other day where someone lamented the quickest way to shut down a discussion on the pandemic was to refer to “the new normal.”
How true, though I would argue “out of an abundance of caution” is a close second.
Any way you slice it, we are tired. Just how tired likely depends on where you live and how close to home COVID-19 has hit.
Here in West Virginia, we began to reopen the economy in late spring. Many were apprehensive, but it went fairly smoothly. I’m not a big fan of Gov. Jim Justice, but…
My first political memory was a song. You may remember the old Oscar Mayer jingle — it was sung to that.
“My baloney has a first name, it’s J-I-M-M-Y…”
It was the late 70s and one of the kids on the school bus must have heard it somewhere. We all had a laugh about it, but I couldn’t say at that age I was any kind of political animal. I remember the day Reagan was shot, I was more upset that it preempted a Bugs Bunny special. Hey, gimmie a break. I was nine.
That all started to change for…
In the 2016 election, I believe many failed to pick up on something important, and I think that is still the case.
The election wasn’t a just a referendum on eight years of Obama, but rather 16 to 25 years of interventionalist policy. Of “Forever Wars” and globalization. If you only look at it by party, you are missing half of the story.
In 14 days, it is possible that a man running for a so-called “return to normalcy” may be on his way to winning an election. …
When I was young, there was nothing quite like the excitement preceding the arrival of a big snowstorm.
It seemed the weather folks on “Action News” would spend days — an eternity — discussing a impending storm. Would it end up a mere dusting, or would the weather gods grant us the ingredients for a real whopper?
When a storm was finally due to arrive in the Delaware Valley, I’d wait up anxiously anticipating the first flakes before bedtime and nervously peer around the curtain the next morning in hope of seeing the world blanketed in white.
If I got…
I’m sure other towns can make their claims to sports misery. Cleveland for instance, but they did have the Cavs. It hasn’t been easy being an O’s fan in recent years. The “Washington Football Team” fans deserve acknowledgement for putting up with… whatever that is.
In my sports-awareness lifetime, I’ve had the Phillies in ’80 and ’08, the Birds in ’17 and the Sixers in ’83 (Sadly, I’m too young to remember the Bullies’ Stanley Cups in the 70s). Sure, there were appearances in the big ones, but they always fell short.
No matter the sport, we have…
I’m no alarmist, I leave that to those who are arming themselves for the next great revolution, but I do think we are heading for an election crisis in November.
I’m going to throw politics out of the argument, there are plenty of people who get their talking points from their politician/pundit du jour who can take that tact. I want to speak observationally and objectively.
My father moved from his home of 45 years in early July. Like many of us, he filled out that convenient form to have his mail automatically forwarded to his new address. Those of…
It was a beautiful day.
I remember that vividly. I remember feeling like September had arrived, and fall wasn’t far off.
I was sleeping in, the way a 29-year-old can and a 48-year-old wishes were still possible. My significant was up early, drinking her coffee and watching the morning shows, when she woke me with the news that a plane had hit the World Trade Center and I’d better come in to see.
I mumbled something about it happening before — in 1945 a B-25 Mitchell bomber had flown into the Empire State Building in a fog — but she…