Where One Road Ends, The Future Begins

What started as a bit of a lark back in March 1998—when myself, Lynne Procope, and Roger Bonair-Agard took over the space at Bar 13 on Monday nights and started our own reading series—not only survived 16+ years in the deteriorating cultural landscape of New York City (and the fickle tastes of bar owners always looking for the next new shiny), but thrived, throughout myriad trials and turmoils—some external, some self-inflicted—as a weekly oasis of poetry that occasionally bent but never broke.

Falling Back In Love With the Poetry Slam

The slam isn't the automatic audience draw it used to be (for us, at least), and I can't help but wonder if that's partly because, a long time ago, the organized slam became much less about putting on a good show for the audience and providing an open forum for a variety of voices, and more about establishing an alternative career path for a select group of poets. The revolution gone corporate, as so often happens.

Mozer, Bethea and Me (for Veteran’s Day)

The original version of the poem, written back in 2003, was entitled Mozer, Bethea and I (as published in Handmade Memories), and it had a ranty, overly political ending that tried to be a little too clever and felt like a different poem from the opening, I tightened it all up, including a bit more nuance in Mozer's section, while heavily revising the closing to end up with what I think is a far stronger, more personal, more relatable work. Veteran's Day isn't a time for generic sentiments, positive or negative, but a time for personal reflection. I'm generally ambivalent about my time in the military because I met far too many people who defied easy stereotypes of what it means to be pro- or anti-war, and I've always had nothing but respect for anyone who has served, not to mention a fair bit of curiosity about why they did so.

The REAL Tools of Change? People

Yesterday's announcement that O'Reilly is retiring TOC came as a bit of a surprise at first, but in retrospect, it makes sense. Its focus on tools was a strength in the early days of the digital transition, but as the new shiny wore off, self-proclaimed "disruptors" faded away quietly, and viable business models came to light, it became clear that the tools of change that counted most were the people in the trenches, not the provocative pundits with plenty of ideas and little or no skin in the game.

Don’t Stop Running

The feeling of running across the finish line, whether it's a one-mile walk for charity or a local 10k, an Olympic sprint or the Boston Marathon, is supposed to be a special one. It's personal accomplishment mixed with exuberant community connection; an emotional high laced with varying degrees of physical exhaustion. It's not ever supposed to be a moment where death might lash out randomly. Where cowards make political statements. Where fear and suspicion take root.

Hate the Parents, Not the Video Games

There are a wide variety of video games out there, and yes, some are extremely violent. Same goes for movies, TV shows, and even good, old-fashioned books. If you don't want your kids playing these games (or consuming any other similar media), be a responsible parent and deal with it, but don't go playing the blame game every time some senselessly violent act occurs too close to home, crying for government regulation.

Do the Right Thing: Postpone the NY Marathon

During a week that's seen NJ Gov. Chris Christie step up the to plate and impress a lot of people who've had few reasons to say anything nice about him in the past, myself included, Bloomberg manages to follow up a shining moment of his own—a nuanced and rational endorsement of Obama—with a bone-headed decision to put business interests ahead of the well-being and safety of his constituents.