I have always supported independent artists, but that support has not often been reciprocated. This bothers me. Part 2 of a series [Caveat: I’ll apologize in advance if this one sounds a little bitchy. That isn’t my intent, but I know people don’t always hear what I think I’m saying.] Ever since we started this blog in 2007, and really for
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I resolve to be more honest and direct in confronting ignorance and hatred. Part 1 of a series When I was a little boy, my grandparents read me the Parable of the Talents (Matthew 25: 14-30). They had a particularly Southern Baptist working class interpretation of what it meant. If you had a gift, the Lord intended you to use it
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There is beauty in the darkness. This is all I have ever known. Beauty doesn’t work the same for me as it does for most people. I first started realizing this in Mr. Booth’s (excuse me, Dr. Booth’s) English V class at Ledford High School in 1978 and 1979. I remember two moments distinctly. First, we read “The Eve of St.
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#breathe #takebackourfuture Six years ago today – this is Ronan MacScottie hoping to make friends with a squirrel in Benedict Fountain Park. I was a few months into being single again, and was hoping to find some happiness after years in the darkness. The upper side of the park was frequented by homeless people, who I suppose were hoping for anything
Read moreAn icon of the American theatre, Edward Albee, died this week. Scholars & Rogues honors him and notes the small ways that the influence of great artists can affect our lives for years to come. We read The Zoo Story in one of my classes at Wake Forest – maybe freshman or sophomore year. I absolutely loved it. I think Jerry
Read moreA number of people who are supposed to be friends have crossed a line and I don’t know if there’s a way back. In recent months I have been called an idiot. I’ve been called silly. I’ve been called a child. I’ve been called privileged. I have also been called a sexist and a misogynist. Not by Republicans, or trolls or
Read moreI don’t care if you stuff your pockets until it looks like you’re smuggling carburetors. If you’re too macho to carry a bag, that’s your issue. I can imagine how the conversation would go. My father is still alive and it’s Thanksgiving. We’re having dinner at his place. I walk in, say hello to everyone, and he draws a bead on my latest purchase.
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Not everybody loved The Greatest: what Muhammad Ali meant to one racist Southern kid That was always the difference between Muhammad Ali and the rest of us. He came, he saw, and if he didn’t entirely conquer – he came as close as anybody we are likely to see in the lifetime of this doomed generation. – Hunter S. Thompson
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Saturday, June 2, 2012: I drove out to Wolf Camera in Wheat Ridge and bought a Nikon D3100. It was official. I was in the process of retiring from 35 wasted years as a failed poet, and had now decided to learn how to shoot things.
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Spinocerebellar ataxia sucks the joy out of another day… As I have mentioned before, I have a degenerative brain condition. It’s called spinocerebellar ataxia, and is essentially an atrophying of the portion of the brain that coordinates and regulates muscular activity. If you read the details at NIH you’ll probably understand pretty quickly just how nasty it really is. It has
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It was the greatest moment of my life. I attended a high school in rural North Carolina that was probably typical of rural high schools in every way, up to and including the sadistic coach/science teacher archetype. At our school it was Coach Kelly. He ran the wrestling program, was an assistant football coach, and, of course, an educator specializing
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When I was a kid my grandparents and I would sit on the couch and watch television in the evenings. We had all kinds of favorites. Beverly Hillbillies, Andy Griffith, All in the Family, Hee-Haw, Happy Days, The Brady Bunch, The Rockford Files, The Partridge Family, Laverne & Shirley, you name it. Those were great times, even though we only had black and white. And over the air, so usually
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I’m the Forrest Gump of apples. My favorite desserts often involve apples. Apple pie, apple cobbler, apple crisp, apple tarts, baked apples, apple dumplings, stewed apples, apple danish, apple butter, apple kugel, applesauce, apple cake, apple cookies – especially those soft Archways… [sigh] I’m sort of the Forrest Gump of apples. But my childhood was a frustrating one. My grandmother
Read moreThey don’t even know what it is to be a fan. Y’know? To truly love some silly little piece of music, or some band, so much that it hurts. – Sapphire, Almost Famous My Last.FM profile says I have played Space Team Electra tracks 1,093 times. But that’s misleading. For starters, Last.FM didn’t launch until three years after the band broke up.
Read moreApril 20, 1999. I remember exactly where I was, exactly what I was doing. My co-worker at US West, Joe Lopez, turned to me and said “hey Sammy, there’s been a shooting at a school down in Littleton.” “Find out everything you can,” I said. I’ll go tell Marti. Marti was Marti Smith, our VP, and thus began some of
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lullaby pit 