An ending to the ugliest of divorce battles combined with a tragic cancer tale.
What do you call a beloved boy named Billy, an impish, hardy, scrappy boy's boy who was orphaned but grew up to be gracious? Whose resilient odds-defiance shined brightly through his charm, persistence and his resourcefulness? I call him Grandpa.
While Michael Riva is known primarily for designing multiple iterations of big Hollywood spectacles, he found artistry in everything around him and everything he did was filled with artistry. There still is a hole in my heart and I will miss him terribly.
Thank you for the music, Doc. For putting so much goodness into each song you sang. For all the performances you gave, and the hearts you touched with your voice and your guitar. For all the records you made, and all the painstaking care you took to make them.
Let's not remember Mary for her despair, but let's take inspiration from her determination to heal the woundedness in herself and in those she loved.
My bruised feelings notwithstanding, I suppose the Post reporter did us a favor. In just a few sentences she summed up my mother's life in a way that made the paper. And yet burying my mother's real identity for the sake of a few inches of type, continued to gnaw at me.
In five, ten, twenty years no sane person in America will be against gay marriage, and remembering that you were will feel as shameful as having recently been in favor of segregation.
It sure seems like a whole lot of the most special people in my life are leaving this life. I guess that happens as one gets older, and I honestly can...
Mike Wallace was best known as the hard-hitting investigative journalist on 60 Minutes. But there was another side to him. He helped untold numbers of people suffering from depression when he went public about his own battles with the disorder.
They want you to to think that anyone with an ounce of musical creativity will be in Austin this week. Never fear, those who have been left behind. There will be music outside Texas. In fact, some of that music will be in D.C.
Belch out rhapsodies of shifting sunsets And watch the buildings crumble as atlas shrugged. I sing not of this age nor time But for those who preceded...
I can just imagine the lead of my obituary: "Jerry Zezima, a longtime newspaper columnist and certified public nuisance, died yesterday of complications from a hangnail. He was 58."
Sadly, a life force that I had assumed as an indissoluble part of our political and literary landscape, as well as my own close circle of friends, has ended, and with it an indispensable element of our collective moral code.
The American comedian Patrice O'Neal (born 'Patrice Oneal') died on Tuesday, a month after suffering a stroke at the end of October. I did not know h...
Today's political journalists think the world would work much better if political leaders would simply govern the way the journalist thinks they should. Tom Wicker knew that his job was not to govern: his job was to provide a conscience for those who governed.
Last Monday, Anne McCaffrey passed away in her home. The science fiction world has lost an icon.