The reporters I roll with may not dress like the coifs on TV, or have as many cool lanyards in their credential collection as those who ride campaign buses, but I assure you we are much more serious than most of them.
A few weeks ago, I went there. I told family members who reside politically south of America’s metaphorical Mason-Dixon line that they were unqualified to wrestle with me on the subject of impeachment.
In this case pickleball is merely the vehicle through which I chose to weave this particular parable about finding unexpected prizes through patience and pain.
As the lone remaining leaf on the street in some neighborhoods and corners, we promise to take the responsibility that comes with that seriously.
Are you tired of the same horse race political coverage? Are you sick of hearing about how much money the candidates raised? Do you want coverage to reflect more state and local issues?
For every 50 right-wing roaches who wreak havoc on my nerves, there is only one Eileen, who just three weeks ago sent me her latest care package.
The next time someone makes a movie that’s specifically about my life, almost line for goddamn line, it would be great if one of you told me ahead of time.
It’s time to call the governor out for being a shameless business-assist monkey right now, because later’s always too damn late.
Titled “No News Is Bad News,” it’s about how the predicament of local media in this state has gone “from bad to worse,” what “a world without news really looks like,” and, specifically, how “the marriage of GateHouse and Gannett looms like an Angel of Death over what’s left of the local media landscape.”
Put in simple terms, he was an awesome guy with a great attitude, and we looked forward to collaborating with him this semester.