Biking in Manhattan is a contact sport. It includes confronting cabbies and dodging pedestrians (who in welcome ways have a supremacy of the street). It demands nano-second reflexes, a sense of daring and nerves stronger than your bike frame.
The abrupt closing last week of the 47-year-old Boston Phoenix was a shock to the alternative weekly ecosystem. It also underscored the divide between struggling big city papers and more viable smaller-market ones.
The sad state of newspaper classifieds makes me feel lucky that I worked at LA Weekly during the early '80s, when the classifieds did more than drive revenue: they said as much about the city's culture as the cover stories.
After watching the media coverage of the Occupy LA movement I was disheartened. It was decidedly glib. I moved my tent to City Hall the morning of October 28th and set an intention to stay for the duration.
I took a walk through the construction site at the nefarious Ford Hotel with two former residents, Abraham and Travelle. They spent their childhood in the well-documented hellhole, witnessing life at the bottom rung of capitalism.
In an economy where job security is nonexistent and it's riskier than ever to stand up to horrible bosses, there's usually nothing funny about their carelessly erratic and sometimes cruel behavior. But one finds humor where one can.