Pondering this question about Molly Ivins several times a day has become a new hobby of mine since the spectacular Senator from Fort Worth, Wendy Davis, stood up for 13 hours and basically destroyed the Republican Party in Texas.
Talking about her demanding and usually disapproving mother, Holland Taylor's Ann Richards remembers the old dame saying, "If we rest, we rust." Well, Richards fans and those who should be, there's no resting and no rusting here.
We graduated from college with a diploma and a dream but not much certainty as to what path our lives would take or even who we'd become along the way. Most of us leapt before we looked and landed okay. So, why the dread over what I'll call "commencement 2.0"?
Some primaries separate the partisans from the pretenders, the moderates from the true believers. Not so here in Texas, where we just had our primaries, and Republicans are arguing over who won the circular firing squad.
A woman who scoured stores and the Internet for every type of utensil, Molly was unflaggingly eager to gather friends around her not only to feed them but -- as the devoted Sweets emphasizes -- because they would feed her with their wit and knowledge.
In the name of austerity, newly elected Wisconsin Republican Governor Scott Walker is attempting to stamp out public workers' collective bargaining rights. But despite his dire claims, his state had been coping better than most.
Molly Ivins was a true wit. It's not surprising that a play about her would be very funny, but the play also reveals a side of her that many will not be familiar with- a lifelong struggle with her father.
There's probably a creative limit to what one can do with old shoes and snow, and we, the people, are not so foolish as to believe that we can compete with the big money special interests. But we must try.
The collective naval-gazing of reporters and publishers far exceeds the outcry when free downloads upended the music industry and streaming video tanked television ratings, because when a crisis hits the writers it's what we write about.
When the opportunity came to partner with a race car driver around a grand-prix track at 150 miles an hour in a supercharged, ground-hugging, open to the elements hell-on-wheels speedster in Austin, Texas, I said "sure."