We’re not in Roma, signori: Dude, you guys can write better than this. What major metropolitan area doesn’t have a train (“Next Stop, Nowhere,” Jeff Stratton, April 15)? Answer: L.A.. Rebuttal: L.A. also has east and west highways. Although the Tri-Rail sucks in many respects, it does do something worthwhile…
And we were doing so well. Just a few minutes after the northbound Tri-Rail train begins its jaunt from Fort Lauderdale to West Palm Beach, we slow to a crawl and stop for no apparent reason. Engineer and conductor converse. Radio static cuts through the quiet. An employee leaves the…
Hand it to Hollywood City Hall — even when the commission is dealing with raw sewage, it still reeks more than anything else in town. A deal to treat the city’s raw sewage is fraught with millions of wasted dollars, conflicts of interest, and very likely illegal conduct on the…
Inside the conference room of the Hallandale Beach headquarters of Empire Musicwerks, the order is given to kill the lights. Label honcho Paul Klein, a barrel-bodied man with the requisite open shirt, gold chains, and slick black hair, warns Scott Putesky — the artist responsible for this particular effort –…
I read Eric Alan Barton’s April 8 article, “If Steve Had a Hammer.” After a two-year hiatus, I am again running for the Broward Folk Club board of directors. I also have been involved in the issues covered in the article, although not firsthand. I noticed quite a few errors;…
More than anything else, Abram Elam misses the way his name sounded over the loudspeaker at Notre Dame football games. When he would run onto the field or make a tackle, the announcer, tucked high away in the press box, would bellow out A-bram E-lam like it was money, like…
This is a story about peace and love and bickering and lawsuits, all the things that have come to define the Broward County Folk Club. It ought to be read while strumming G-chords on an acoustic guitar. It began in the living room of Cheryl Valentine-Silberberg’s home in Hollywood back…
It’s 2 a.m. on a Saturday at Plato’s Repeat (321 W. Sunrise Blvd., Fort Lauderdale), and the long, softly lit Jacuzzi room next to the bar is crawling with eight nude bodies. The Asian-themed space is filled with an almost impenetrable haze, but when a loin-wrapped, soft-fleshed couple in their…
So, what do you feed Dick Cheney when he comes to dinner? Considering the vice president’s heart problems, fish or chicken breast might seem the best choice. But you don’t want to go too far with the light stuff or he might suspect you’re one of those latte-drinking, sushi-eating, Volvo-driving,…
What in God’s name are the top dogs at the Sun-Sentinel thinking? It’s a newspaper, right? It’s supposed to advocate open discussion of ideas, no? And it sure as hell should be impartial. At least, that’s what this grimy old ‘Pipe thinks. But that doesn’t seem to be the case…
Cuz the Democrats are still learning: I was impressed by Eric Alan Barton’s April 1 story, “Prelude to a Butt Whippin’.” That took a lot of work. I appreciate all the nice things he said about me, and I look forward to living up to his expectations. Sid Dinerstein, Chairman…
The Garden of Eden it ain’t, but Lake Worth’s Old Bridge Park, a characterless acre and a half of parking space along the western edge of the barrier island, is a thing of beauty to locals. Beach parking? Hell, the gardens at Versailles could never look sweeter. Now, here’s Mayor…
Nothing can incite a crowd of Democrats like talk of the 2000 election. So that’s immediately what West Palm Beach Mayor Lois Frankel goes for in her fiery speech. She’s warming up a crowd of a few thousand in front of the downtown library. Hiding behind a ficus hedge, waiting…
Accompanied by a handful of rabbis, Harold Wishna lowered the boom on the North Broward Hospital District last week. The 75-year-old political power broker stood before the district board, which is appointed by Gov. Jeb Bush, and complained that the public hospital system discriminates against Jews. The gray and balding…
Let’s say you’re on the second date with a person whom you’re really, really attracted to, but then he or she does or says this one thing, and you suddenly decide: “It’s over. Deal breaker.” For me, if a guy uses the term “bro,” the dishes are done. It’s finished…
But this copper has some sense: I just finished reading Trevor Aaronson’s March 25 article regarding Johnny Mamone (“The Snitch”). I thought I would provide you with a little more information in respect to his so-called family life and “non-criminal” activities. For more than 21 years, I served as a…
Eighteen of them crowd together under the basket at the south end of the court. Most stand menacingly with their hands on their hips, in tank tops that show well-defined muscles. The loudest of them is Rick Smith, an African-American debt collector from here in West Palm Beach who isn’t…
It’s almost midnight on a Friday at Assman’s Wacky World (3000 E. Oakland Park Blvd., Fort Lauderdale), and 42-year-old Dave Tarr, the Assman himself, is bending over on the deck behind the restaurant to plant a kiss on his thin, blond girlfriend’s butt. He stands up and rests his lanky…
The audacious bid to gain control of government money and media coverage began with a strange but simple equation: a quarter a head. That’s how much the downtown developers and businessmen who formed the Broward Alliance in 1998 felt they deserved from your local tax coffers. Twenty-five cents for every…
Justice of the Church: Trevor Aaronson’s March 18 article, “Father Gomorrah,” is interesting but fatally flawed by a common misstatement that continues to plague the movement toward civil marriage equality for us gay and lesbian citizens. Aaronson says, “Father Reid has wedded dozens of gay couples, sanctifying their marriages before…
On July 26, 1999, at 5:01 p.m., 57-year-old Al Polito walked into Gold Coast Check Cashing, a squat, pink, concrete-block building on the corner of Margate Boulevard and U.S. 441, with an FBI microphone strapped to his body. He was there to meet John Mamone, a six-foot-two, 260-pound New Jersey…
Cher Durham is preparing to deliver her first child at a home in Kendall. Midwife Corina Fitch settles herself under a blanket at one end of a couch in Durham’s living room. Having delivered more than 150 babies and witnessed 300 more births, the midwife knows from the serene expression…
