Following the University of Cincinnati football team used to be one of life’s simple pleasures, a private and personal window on sports through which the wins and losses didn’t matter as much as the laughs, groans and occasional sense that these kids might be getting somewhere.
Charlie Kaufman takes things to a whole new level in Synecdoche, New York, an acutely dour metaphysical mind-fuck of a movie with Philip Seymour Hoffman playing an emotionally battered theater director in modern-day Manhattan.
Buddakhan restaurant is still a bit of a secret downtown, but word is getting out ("Reflecting Over Crab Rangoon and Smiles," issue of Oct. 15). Happy hour should mean smiles all around, especially for those who are serving you.
When taking walks in my neighborhood in Westwood, I see political signs for U.S. Rep. Steve Chabot all over the place.
I’m currently living in what’s considered a Republican and conservative community, but apparently we have a few Democrats here too. It does my heart good to see Steve Driehaus signs scattered here and there.
I like the Driehaus television commercials. He often ends his TV.ads by saying, “Steve Chabot’s not a bad guy. He’s just been in Washington too long.”
Election Day approaches, and Tristate residents once again have multi-page ballots to consider. Who has time to fully research every issue and candidate, especially when ballots are getting longer, not shorter? A lot of nonprofit organizations do.
The differences between Sen. Mitch McConnell and Bruce Lunsford are being played out in TV ads, on Web sites and via a host of other places using all the usual tactics employed by politicians. McConnell, the Republican incumbent, touts his record as the longest serving U.S. Senator in Kentucky history.
John McCain heard about President Bush's proposed $700 billion economic-help-out plan today and said, "Hold it! America needs help from a maverick! I'm going to Washington!" and then he postponed his presidential campaign.
Mention September 11, 2001, and rooms become quiet. A gaping quiet. Hit by a thought bullet, people freeze. Then eyes look down, around. We remember the moment we heard. Eyes look up. Up. That day, musician Josh Hisle signed up for the Marines, entering "The War on Terror."