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Showing posts from 2012

Hawaiian Surf Princess

Kauai, January 2008. Northbound Highway 56. Surf report on the radio. Hawaiian Surf Princess Malia Manuel Point your board toward the next run Waves rolling on Kaelia Beach  where one long day runs free Sea sun glisten off taught brown body and  navy wet-suit top and bright blue bikini bottom Lakey Peterson Shot like a bullet through a barrel Rip the surf and fall like an angel  To rise and ride again  and then return to shore  where I am paralyzed by your beauty Throw your board atop a friend's car  Pop the trunk and rinse your mocha hair Its length, the only excess on your sleek frame Malia Manuel Breeze blows your ethereal mist in my face as you peel your top off your taught back Aloof calendar pose,  "Was doing terrible before you showed up" Board a bumblebee and scatter off   Sunlight kisses your lips and strokes your hair Heavenly statue in the parking lot of Kaelia Beach  Lakey Peterson

Mexican Mayor Maria Santos Gorrostieta Murdered

Across the border of the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave, a woman who personified these beliefs was savagely beaten and murdered. Although her death made headlines  around the world, the barbarous animals responsible for this crime will likely go unpunished. Maria Santos Gorrostieta  was a mother and wife who survived previous assassination attempts, one that took her first husband, before being abducted in daylight while dropping her daughter off at school. As mayor of the small town of Tiquicheo, Mexico she stood against the illegal drug trade and poverty that ravaged her people on behalf of the "men who break their souls everyday without rest to find a piece of bread for their children." Thirty years after Nancy Reagan pleaded with Americans to "Just Say No," the many broken souls who find solace in artificial paradises will turn a blind eye to this slaughter as if it were part of the food trade, unavoidable, and the profiteers will get back t

Liz Cho Dating Josh Elliott

@LizCho7: Collecting shells on Long Island Liz Cho seems hellbent on turning the part-time, hyper-local gossipy-gops like Weird Long Beard (WLB) into full-time hackitty-hack snoops.  Back in June,  WLB reported that Liz Cho and her husband Evan Gottlieb were still married only to be scooped three months later by Page Six with this bombshell: " Anchor Liz Cho & hubby split: dating Josh Elliott? " Curiously, the timing of her separation seems to coincide with her new hair-do, which I for one do not like. The bone-straight approach is not nearly as luxurious as the full-body quiff she used to don and seems to lose its fizzle in the evening broadcasts. Unfortunately, if these rumors of Liz Cho and Josh Elliott do not fizzle, it proves that she is human and at 41 years-old not immune to the mid-life crisis we ordinary folks hold so dear ... but why  Josh Elliott ?  Liz's new do I did catch Josh Elliott over the summer on  Good

Breaking Bad in Happy Valley

The much lauded AMC series Breaking Bad  is mesmerising in its expert, intricately woven story directed beautifully through the finest detail. It's precise like a thematic chemical reaction that loans an air of authenticity rarely found on TV. Among the myriad of human entanglements portrayed in Breaking Bad is the notion that someone wicked and evil can appear right before your nose without presenting a single clue. In this its final season, there is a scene where DEA agents Hank and his partner Steven are sharing a drink with their retiring boss, George Merkert, in his office when it becomes evident that George can't forgive himself for not recognizing who the druglord Gus Fring really was. He laments having invited him into his home and among his family when the camera deftly stops on Hank's face alluding to his brother-in-law Walt, who has been perpetrating the meth explosion Hank seems powerless to stop, chasing a mythical figure named Heisenberg. The truth i

Sun Bleached and Beautiful

A summer shower falls oh so gently on the hood of my Jeep while I put off the day's errand and head to the beach where I'm greeted by the sun-washed jagged stones that stand guard over the Sound while the sailors, runners, bikers and fishermen weave in and out. Tod's Point, Greenwich, CT I pause along route, too lazy to fiddle with the automatic windows, and amble to a nearby bench facing the island of Manhattan. A fisherman jabbers that the fluke are small, but it looks like a meal to me. The doldrums have set upon the sailing school so that the women lay across the bows of the dead ships paddling wistfully while others hop overboard to cool off or perhaps answer a desperate nature call. Two runners approach as if they popped out of a hi-def screen airing the Olympics from London. They are tall and lean wearing hardly anything. I follow the long-legged woman for a bit until I feel useless and out of shape, so I hop back in the Jeep and spin around the Point at a

It Appears Liz Cho Is Still Married

Looking at the recent queries that lead to this blog, there is still a great deal of wonder about the marital status of WABC-TV Channel 7 Eyewitness News' anchor Liz Cho. Admittedly, I have fanned the flames with a gonzo-style report that she may be in love with her co-anchor Bill Ritter , but people, that was four years ago! Of course I still watch Liz Cho and like the rest of you I am still intrigued by this notion that she does not wear her wedding band or engagement ring on her left ring finger during the broadcast. I seem to recall her flashing a rather ornate diamond once upon a time. Maybe there is a trade secret as to why news anchors don't wear their rings, but her colleague Lee Goldberg always seems to wear his. Intrepid blogger that I am, I took to search and found a recent article in the New York Post that not only reports that Liz Cho is still married to Evan Gottlieb, but that the two are involved in a "nasty legal battle" over renovations they

Margaret Brennan No Longer InBusiness

I was caught by surprise last Friday when I read Margaret Brennan's farewell to the NYSE and her show on twitter. I had been a loyal follower of InBusiness since she left CNBC's retail beat to join BloombergTV in 2009. It seemed as though the show was doing well. She moved from the studio to the floor of the Exchange and her image appeared on posters in Metro North rail cars and banners strewn across city buses. According to TVNewser,  Andrew Morse , head of U.S. TV for Bloomberg, said the changes are a continuation of Bloomberg’s “evolution into a digital, multi-platform news organization.”  I suppose it only fair that in this age of disintermediation that a change to a daily TV program be reported on twitter. No indication as to where Brennan will land, but I can't imagine a bright journalist like her will be sidelined for long.  And so it would appear that the glittering money-honey path away from CNBC may not be golden after all, e.g., does anybody tun

Brooklyn Pizza Odyssey

Sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the story of that man skilled in all ways of devouring pizza. Toppings or none, any pie spread before him, soon to be done. Grimaldi's Pizzeria, Brooklyn The journey begins across the Brooklyn Bridge with the steely eye of John Augustus Roebling cast upon ye merry band of travelers as ancient souls swim among the caissons still searching for the allusive bedrock never found. Cameron Diaz Under the bridge downtown lies  Grimaldi's whose line stretches out like the famous suspension bridge and whose savory mozzarella and thin crust beckons like the sirens' song along the block where the beautiful Cameron Diaz once traipsed with the solemnity of Penelope herself. You sit and order a pie hot out of the coal brick oven and you're filled with a sense of promise and good cheer. Dom DeMarco of Di Fara From there, the wind blows out to Midwood and Di Fara , where another crowd gathers as the old man painstakingly puts t

One Take

Leap year into forgotten wonder bra commercial  where a young lass’s hair ain’t all that bounces  like a quarter  off a sticky bar or the driving rain off the hood of a car port  in a quaint New England town overlooking Long Island Sound  and the spawn of a million oysters to end up as empty shells on tables amid fables  of barroom romances from a century ago and actors like Grant and Gable  who were able to say more with a wink than a good long Plato think  on the underprivileged and lack of clean drinking water  or vapor in the form of Vader and the force that pulls us all in some precarious direction  or perhaps to the top of the masthead in a magazine  or a vessel of blood drop oozing from the corner of a wolf’s mouth  somewhere in the deep south of Jack London’s mind  behind the steaming carcass of progress and inevitable debt and dirty diapers  that the earth brings to the unsuspecting moms who accept the challenge  in return for fading beauty and eternal memory of all to be

Steve Jobs

Steve Jobs by Walter Isaacson is an elegantly crafted story and one that will forever remain among my favorites. Most of us have never met Steve Jobs face-to-face and yet I think we all feel we know him on a personal level having been seduced by his products at some point in our lives for one reason or another. My memories, while not of him, are of Apple, which may be as close to him as we could get anyway. They begin when I took a computer class in high school with my best friend. The main reasons we took it were the teacher was likable and the hottest girl in school happened to be taking it too. The by-product of this hour long oasis was learning the features of the Macintosh which were intuitive and then utilizing them to compose documents such as "Why Michael Jordan Is the Greatest Athlete on Earth." Fast forward to my first editorial job at Forbes magazine and my desire to purchase a laptop so I could write wherever inspiration struck. My colleagues in IT, who