Sunday in New York
This sounds like a fun read, due to drop mid month: Ticking Clock a memoir by Emmy award-winning producer Ira Rosen about his career at 60 Minutes and its competitors, ABC’s 20/20 and Primetime Live. The book is featured in an article at nypost.com by Mary Kay Linge. Here’s an appetizer: “The four most feared words in the English language: Mike Wallace is here.”
And on a more serious note, another book:
In his op-ed piece today at NYP, Michael Goodwin again takes on what has become an easy target — the NY Times. He uses the term “Wokestan” to describe The Gray Lady. Awesome, sir. One can argue that it applies to a big chunk of the USA these days.
Here are excerpts from an NYP article on BLM by Rav Arora: “At least 8600 black lives were lost to homicide in 2020, an increase of more than 1000 compared to 2019… In Chicago, 80% of gun-violence victims in 2020 were black, in NYC 71% — even though black people constitute just 26% of the city’s population… more than 90% of black homicide victims are killed by black offenders… the probability of an African American being killed by a civilian is more than 30 times higher than that of being killed by a member of law enforcement… more than three times as many black children died of homicide than the total number of unarmed black Americans killed by the police in 2020…” The NFL’s and other leagues’ pandering to BLM and the thugs among the players is the main reason I have not watched any games this season, nor will I watch the Super Bowl or other sporting events.
After a bleak snowy day, I’m amused to see patches of blue from my window. Since the weather model I saw online predicted the storm would move away at about four PM, I waited until 2:30 to leave the house, intending to shovel the sidewalk in front of our old house, which still had a substantial remnant from the blizzard. By the time I cleaned off the car and carefully made my way to the old neighborhood, it was just after three. I collected my laundry, pulled a few books from the shelf, and went to work. What fun!. The snow was heavy. It was the hardest I’ve worked in who knows how long. I tried to pace myself, not risk a heart attack. I was so pooped when I was done I asked my niece to do the salting. As soon as I got home I took two ibuprofen. The forecast for the week is grim. The best day looks like it will be tomorrow. I’ll have to be lucky with parking to be able to operate the book shop, and then do some shoveling. It’s the law of averages. Things were too easy November — January.
My Amazon Author page: https://www.amazon.com/Vic-Fortezza/e/B002M4NLJE
FB: https://www.facebook.com/Vic-Fortezza-Author-118397641564801/?fref=ts
Read Vic’s Stories, free: http://fictionaut.com/users/vic-fortezza
