Another Newspaper Shake-down

O

  I grew up in a home absent of newspapers. Oh, to be sure, my mother was a reader. She kept stacks of books beside her bed and piles of magazines throughout the house. Not the highbrow sort of reading found in Vogue or The New Yorker. Mama was reading Valley of the Dolls, the [Read More...]

Red Fence of Fundamentalism

red fence

I wish there had been a specific Point of Demarcation. A bright red fence or something.   One that came with a warning sign that said: Cross over this and there’s no return. Or: Don’t cross and you’ll never move forward. My girlfriend Susie and I had lunch last week. We had a lot of [Read More...]

A letter to South Carolinians

My dear South Carolinian friends: Tell me. Is Newt Gingrich is holed up in some five-star hotel somewhere with a bottle of brandy, wishing like heck somebody would put a muzzle on That-Woman-Who-Shall-Remain-Nameless? I imagine getting an endorsement from her is like having Charlie Sheen as a character witness for Tiger Woods in a divorce [Read More...]


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