Okay, guys...I have been on vacation, and w/o access to email, and I know this is no longer "news" of a timely nature as it happened last Friday, but I was completely crushed by the news of Tim Russert's death. I mean, only a few weeks ago I posted that I absolutely loved Tim Russert (and Chuck Todd). He was the person I listened to, and looked to for quality political journalism. I watched him every morning on the Today show and Morning Joe, and then caught the Tim Russert Show on Saturday on MSNBC, and, of course, Meet the Press, on Sunday (yes, I'm a nerd). I kind of thought of him as a friend, you know.
Which is why it came as such a shock: As Mr. P. and I made the drive down to Gulf Shores, AL on Friday, we listened to NPR, while I read the Scott McClellan book...I heard the words "Russert...collapsed...died" and thought that they must have been talking about Big Russ, Tim's father. I couldn't believe it. I immediately sent BFF Amanda a text expressing my complete disbelief....then, coincidentally, I received a text from my brother: "Tim Russert, dead @ 58. So f'ing sad." He decided we needed to have a drink in his honor. Yep. My brother was just as crushed as I was. I spent all Friday night watching Keith Olbermann interview Russert's friends and colleagues (poor guy kept it together as best he could) and spent a full evening this week watching the replay of his memorial with my mom, and I weeped all the way through it.
It just seems unfair, you know?
The big question: Who can possibly fill Tim Russert's large, comfortable shoes????
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Drew Carey Was Right.
I never thought I would ever write those four words in the same sentence.
But he is. Cleveland does indeed rock. At least the five square blocks of Cleveland that Mr. P. and I explored this weekend in celebration of our 10 years of wedded bliss. We stayed at a lovely hotel (on the 25th floor), with a full view of the Cleveland Browns stadium and the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame....thank you, I.M. Pei, for the gorgeous view.
We spent a glorious 6 hours in the aforementioned Hall of Fame, where I had my nerdy fill of all things Sun Records and Motown and Queen and Alan Freed and Woodstock and Clapton and M.J. and Jimi and Janis and, my personal favorite, an entire floor dedicated to the Doors...including Jim Morrison's report cards. How great is that?! I like my dead rock stars to excel in Geography.
Next stop: the House of Blues, where we had 2 tickets to see my favorite Insomniac, Dave Attell. Had a little dinner....had a few (read: five) margaritas, and laughed my ass off at one of the all-time funniest living comedians ever. Seriously funny as hell. Almost peed myself.
Of course, that could have been the margaritas.
But he is. Cleveland does indeed rock. At least the five square blocks of Cleveland that Mr. P. and I explored this weekend in celebration of our 10 years of wedded bliss. We stayed at a lovely hotel (on the 25th floor), with a full view of the Cleveland Browns stadium and the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame....thank you, I.M. Pei, for the gorgeous view.
We spent a glorious 6 hours in the aforementioned Hall of Fame, where I had my nerdy fill of all things Sun Records and Motown and Queen and Alan Freed and Woodstock and Clapton and M.J. and Jimi and Janis and, my personal favorite, an entire floor dedicated to the Doors...including Jim Morrison's report cards. How great is that?! I like my dead rock stars to excel in Geography.
Next stop: the House of Blues, where we had 2 tickets to see my favorite Insomniac, Dave Attell. Had a little dinner....had a few (read: five) margaritas, and laughed my ass off at one of the all-time funniest living comedians ever. Seriously funny as hell. Almost peed myself.
Of course, that could have been the margaritas.
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