Proof that time flies.
Broadway Joe has entered his eighth decade. Super Bowl III was XLIV years ago. Seems impossible.
Seventy!
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Monthly Archives: May 2013
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What kind of big-city newspaper lays off its entire photography staff? This is appalling.
How to get my attention
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(Now, THAT’S a hed.)
Exit, stage right
Bye Bye Bachmann. Madame Crazy is leaving the building, a sad day for columnists and comedians across the country. Some of the better pieces I’ve read are by E.J. Dionne; Dana Milbank; Charles M. Blow and, of course, Gail Collins, who typically sums it up better than anyone because, let’s face it, she’s merely the finest columnist in America.
I also got a kick out of this comment by Andrew Rosenthal:
Ms. Bachmann is leaving because her former presidential campaign is under investigation for financial irregularities and because she’s afraid that she might lose the next election to the Democrat, Jim Graves, who almost beat her last year. We know these are her reasons because she specifically said they were not her reasons.
There also have been numerous compilations of Our Michele’s 10 or 12 most bizarre moments.
But some of the best work comes from the comedians. Here’s Andy Borowitz:
And this:
I’m trying to look at things on the bright side. There’s always Louie Gohmert.
Us am appalled.
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How on earth does someone at the Washington Post write “Woman in iconic Boston Marathon photograph talks about how her and her sister banded together …”
Forever young
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From Carl Cannon’s Morning Note in Real Clear Politics today:
Today would have been John F. Kennedy’s 96th birthday. It’s hard to think of JFK as an old man. In our minds he is forever youthful because he died young. He was only in his first term as president – and the father of young children – when he was cut down by an assassin’s bullet on that grim November morning in Dallas.
But on this day, in 1917, Rose Kennedy gave birth to the second of her nine children at home on Beals Street in Brookline, Mass. His older brother, Joe, had been named after the patriarch of this Irish-American clan; and the matriarch of the family named her second son after her own father, John Francis Fitzgerald – “Honey Fitz,” a former U.S. congressman, beloved Boston mayor, and devoted Red Sox fan.
They would call the boy Jack.
That’s a logo?
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Yes, that’s a logo. Unveiled yesterday. Weird.
