a life for itself
In middle school, some of my classmates insisted I had a crush on a girl named Tiffany. Though this Tiffany was indeed cute, I did not have a crush on her. One could say I was in the initial throws of falling in love –as much as someone 13 years old or younger can– with someone else.
Perhaps the biggest news story coming out of Baltimore in the last 24 hours is the last-minute entry of human rights activist Deray Mckesson into the race for Mayor of Baltimore. Deray joins an already crowded race of nearly 30 candidates (it’s a high number, but most of them never had any shot anyway) seeking to succeed Stephanie Rawlings-Blake, who is not running for re-election. The Baltimore Sun quickly reported his filing and reaction came in just as quickly.
A writer can’t be too negative. You have to have a little bit of innocence to be a good writer. Whatever you have to do to preserve that innocence-the “is that so?” element—you should do it. You can’t be someone who knows everything-“been there, done that.” If you know every thing you shouldn’t be a writer. You should be God.
This was quite the surprise. Given the general dysfunction of the (reconstituted) Browns, I wasn’t expecting their owner to go out and get Paul DePodesta, one of the top minds of Sabermetrics and hand him what seems like most of the keys to the franchise. My gut instinct said Haslam would again do what most football organizations do: go hire the Director of Pro Something Or Other from another NFL team, give him a glowing introduction to the media, and start the countdown until he had to fire him.
I’m not resolving anything. Chances are, if you made resolutions, you may have already broken one or two. Or several. Or all of them.