Peter Pasch’s large gray eyes almost well up with tears as he recollects what was possibly his mother’s greatest act of love. “My mother, like any other good mother, wanted to see her son make a good living,” he explains in a growly, Brooklyn accent, now thick with emotion. Back…
Basketball started changing about a year ago. The kids who play on my driveway court began rolling the ball around their bodies under their shirts. They seemed to forget the rule against traveling and carrying the ball. They didn’t so much practice dribbling behind their backs as behind those of…
In a large, black-walled room, well-built, shirtless men wearing dark pants and suspenders meander around an empty bar with drink trays in their hands. To the left, down a small set of stairs, are several small stages decked out with tiny-briefed hunks dancing around a large main stage. About 25…
Or maybe just send him out: Wyatt Olson’s January 8 article (“Enviro-Hassles”) hits the nail right on the head when it comes to describing the sad state of environmental affairs in Gov. Bush’s Florida. There is only one question that remains for me: Why does Benji Brumberg continue to feel…
The voice at the other end of the line was frantic and frustrated. “Benji, we’ve got a crisis,” the speaker lamented. Emotional callers were all in a day’s work for Benji Brumberg, who for the past three years had been the ombudsman for the Florida Department of Environmental Protection (DEP)…
“So, I gotta know something,” Larry, a 28-year-old computer technician from Philadelphia asks. “Are you blond?” “No,” I say. “Why do you ask?” “Well, you just sound like a blond,” Larry says. “It’s not a bad thing,” he rushes to add. “I’m blond.” “Sorry to disappoint,” I say, wondering exactly…
In a state where thick-trunked trees are almost as rare as Florida panthers, the small sliver of forest that thrives outside the Motel 6 on Dania Beach Boulevard west of A1A is a welcome surprise. Even more thrilling is seeing real monkeys there. Yes, there they were last week, about…
Last Sunday about 10 p.m., a two-car caravan of girlies was shaking with bass and peenie-happy energy and flying down Federal Highway toward La Bare (2750 E. Oakland Park Blvd., Fort Lauderdale). The group’s avowed intent: to ogle nearly naked members of the dominant half of the population. The secret…
In Motown, even scraps will make ’em grateful: It’s amazing the difference in standards for sports fans in South Florida versus Detroit. Miami Dolphins fans are calling for coach Wannstedt’s head on a platter (Bob Norman, January 1, “You Move, You Lose”). After all, the Dolphins won only ten games…
South Beach’s famous Lincoln Road promenade, with its clean sidewalks, chic designer boutiques, and smartly dressed tourists, seems a long way from the rough-and-tumble neighborhood of Liberty City. But it is here in the offices of SoBe Entertainment, hidden away in a nondescript white office building a few doors down…
Fort Lauderdale attorney Norm Kent made a personal vow in 1999 as he lay in bed receiving chemotherapy treatment. At the time, the gay community was in an uproar. Days earlier, the Sun-Sentinel’s coverage of the local pride parade included a photograph of two drag queens. The journalists in the…
You can have your Time Person of the Year. Stuff the Top 100 Heroes of 2003, the Golden Globies, and the Public Servants Who Made Us Proud. We’ve got the Dirty Dozen. These are the people in Broward and Palm Beach counties who made us shake our heads in embarrassment…
What’s up with Wayne Huizenga’s suits? The chipper green number the mogul wore Sunday for the Dolphins’ last game made him look like a racetrack official or an Irish bureaucrat. A billion dollars and he wears bad suits. Just goes to show that all the money in the world can’t…
Pompano Beach splash: I want to thank Bob Norman for his December 18 column, “Don’t Drink the Water, Seriously.” It was really on the nose — another gem for us to use to clean up Pompano Beach. Joe Ryan Pompano Beach Norman feeds the masses: It appears obvious from Bob…
Ron Lawrence has paid $25 to a dump truck driver for a load of dirt that never appeared. He once reluctantly loaned $20 to a man who entered a pool hall swearing he needed to fill his diabetic mother’s prescription; the fellow disappeared. And once, after he noticed a guy…
“Good for you,” Susie says when I walk into the bar of the Entrada Motel (509 N. Federal Hwy., Hollywood) and point out that my car is parked in a lot with a tow-away sign. She warms up a bit when she cards my male companion and tells him he…
I persecute Christians. David Limbaugh says so and he’s famous radioman Rush’s brother, so it must be true. The uncle of Dittoheads across the land came out with a best-selling book this fall titled Persecution: How Liberals are Waging War Against Christianity. Just to make sure you don’t miss the…
As the rest of the nation reeled from the thousands of deaths and carnage of 9/11/01 and the anthrax scare that followed, the Boca Raton-based monthly newspaper Happy Times barely missed a beat, pumping out heartwarming pet stories, upbeat celebrity interviews, and New Age wisdom. The staff pieced together a…
Get outta town: I enjoyed reading Bob Norman’s December 18 article about the continuing saga of water problems in Pompano (“Don’t Drink the Water, Seriously”). Over the last year, I had been experiencing problems with pipes that were failing both inside and outside my home. At first, I thought it…
Brittany Mullen ambles into DM Records in Boca Raton a little after 2 p.m. on November 15, upbeat, eager, and, as always, ready to work. Even though she’s only 13 years of age, this is where Brittany wants to be. She’s one of four Funn Club girls the label assembled,…
Imagine the disappointment of Cory Brehm and David Turner, a couple of friends who had journeyed from Wilton Manors to Fort Lauderdale last week to see a smoochy, thong-poppin’ cheesecake brawl at Beach Bums, a beer-splattered hangout on A1A, and instead were subjected to some actual wrestling. “It could have…
The Pompano Beach water scandal is starting to feel like a bad dream, or a Dolphins game at New England, or, worse, a Terry Gilliam movie, non-Monty Python. Faces change, nonsense is uttered, awful things keep happening, and the thing just won’t end. Now, high levels of dangerous lead –…
