I get Post Pigskin Depression whenever the NFL season ends. I love football the way Santa loves the northern lights. Obviously, I worship a game that is rooted in the basest mores of the Middle Ages.
Category: Parents
Super Bowl Shuffle
Warning: I always die a little when football season ends. No worries. By September, I’m totally fine.
Stormy Weather
An American newsroom is an avant-garde theater troupe, full of cranks and communists and dreamers and regular folks who just appreciate all that is special about a newsroom -- the search for truth in a world that often prefers hubris and money.
Heroes and Love Songs
“Kathie Lee sings songs like she’s mad at them,” Tom Shales once wrote about Kathie Lee Gifford. “What did they ever do to you?” RIP, Tom Shales and witty writing in general.
The Trouble With Super Bowl Parties
Confession: I really hate Super Bowl parties.
Behold the Boys of Winter
I see rays of hope everywhere. In the thick robes of winter snow in my beloved Midwest. And out here, when the full moon high-beams an L.A. beach, and you get a whiff of God in there somewhere – all that snowy glow, the frosty waves, the incessant holy spirit.
The Perfect Sweater
It’s a chunky cable-knit sweater, made from happy and well-fed sheep…the handsomest sheep you would ever find. The texture of it is looping – like life -- a big bundle of curls, from yarn blessed by seven rabbis.
Prettier Than a Prairie Snow
On this wintriest of nights, the bride and her life prize (Mikey) welcomed 170 guests to this elegant banquet hall, as if nothing were amiss.
Budget Airlines
Trust me this: Flying a budget airline – with its budget leg room and budget pilots (ours was 12) -- erases all needless worry from your life.
A Book. A Belly Rub.
So, there I was, inching along that weird world between Culver City and El Segundo, distinguished by its ability to look like nowhere you’d ever want to live.