Neil Steinberg began writing for the Chicago Sun-Times in 1984, and joined the staff in 1987 as a feature writer.
He became a columnist in …Read More
The far right — and here they join hands, ironically, with the far left — owns fear of government. To them, the U.S. government is a terrifying enemy, an occupying force. But I felt the fear myself this week about the IRS.
Rowing was once what fishermen did to get to their nets. Then it became a competition, then a recreation, and now it’s an amalgam: part aerobic exercise, part leisure pastime, part blood sport.
Dylan Thomas, whose 100th birthday is Monday, made some memorable appearances in Chicago on his way to becoming among the best-known poets of the 20th century.
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Chicago’s temperature swings take a toll on Divvys, as do graffiti artists, malicious persons, potholes, and regular wear and tear of having Chicago’s collective hot dog-larded backside repeatedly plopped down upon the bikes.
A number of readers apparently feel I run the newspaper, or at least am an important and valued member of the top editorial team, plugged into all decisions as they are being made, sitting in the Inner Sanctum, wherever that may be, peering out beneath …
We can assume that the men threatening to rape and murder Anita Sarkeesian were not doing so because they wanted to disseminate her observations about sexism in the video gaming world to as wide an audience as possible. But that is what is happening.
Is it too early for the Ebola post-mortem? I don’t think so. While there are still a few weeks of frenzy left in the mania, you gathered here in this quiet corner of the media have my permission to exhale a collective sigh of relief.
Gale Gand is sweet. Which is fitting, as she is a pastry chef. Though she is also a food star, not only now — Oct. 15 is officially Gale Gand Day in Chicago — but for the past 20 years.
Richard Preston’s “The Hot Zone: A Terrifying True Story” has sat on my shelf for the past 20 years. And though I haven’t cracked it since reading it last in 1994, I knew exactly what I would find when I opened the book again Friday.
In the lifetime, we went from a time when the police thought nothing of harassing gays for daring to gather in a bar — New York’s Stonewall riot took place in 1969 — to Monday, when the United States Supreme Court declined to hear five pending same-sex marriage cases, essentially upholding the legality of such marriages in Indiana, Oklahoma, Utah, Virginia and Wisconsin.
Where was Mrs. O’Leary’s cow when Chicago really needed her? OK, historians agree that it wasn’t Cate O’Leary’s cow knocking over a lantern in the barn at 137 DeKoven Street that touched off the Great Chicago Fire on Oct. 8, 1871, leveling much of the …Read More
A friend is feeling unwell, and I recommended she nurse herself back to health with the rich gingery soup from Ajida, a Japanese grill on Wells Street. As she isn’t able to go out, I gallantly offered to convey the miso udon to her, of …Read More
News this week told of a fired nursing home employee in Oklahoma who threatened to come back and behead his former co-workers, inspired no doubt by the atrocity that happened days earlier and 20 miles away. Is this going to be a trend? You could argue it already is.
Every night, lately, I go to bed with a French woman. My wife doesn’t mind, because the French woman is dead.
“Busiest airport in the world,” the mayor said Wednesday. “O’Hare International Airport has regained its status as the world’s busiest airport for flight operations,” the Department of Aviation announced. Which is odd, because just last week, CNN reported that Atlanta’s Hartsfield is busiest for the 16th year in a row, with 94.4 million passengers passing through in 2013.
Happy 5775, for those of you who celebrate Jewish New Year, if “happy” is the proper word to describe this particular, anxious moment in Jewish life. (“Really, the Jews are anxious?” quips the potato-nosed wisenheimer in my head. “As opposed to their usual tranquil state?”) Shhh, I say. I’m trying to be serious here.
The Sun-Times newsroom has packed its bags and moved to the 10th floor of what I still consider the Apparel Center but is actually now called . . . checking . . . River North Point. Well, mostly they’ve packed up. A handful of us office-dwellers linger on 9, transformed into a depopulated junkscape of massed office chairs, bundled wires, stacked gray dividers and various discarded books, tape dispensers, and, I noticed with keen interest, one unopened can of Stewarts coffee.
Don Giovanni is not your average hero. Serial seducer, rapist and occasional murderer, he gets by on his looks, his money and a relentless, serpentine charm. Nor is Robert Falls your average director. Provocateur, trickster, his plays have a sharp contemporary edge and lots of good old-fashioned violence and sex.
When the Rev. Francis George, archbishop of Portland, Oregon, learned that Pope John Paul II had named him as the successor to Chicago’s much-beloved Cardinal Joseph Bernardin, the unassuming priest asked in surprise, “Are you sure the Holy Father has considered all the options?” He had.
Metra tries not to kill its customers. It really does. Say what you will about our commuter rail service: its jaw-dropping top-level mismanagement, creaky equipment and seasonal surprise at finding itself once again in a cold climate. But when it comes to sparing the hectic, harried, charmless lives of the commuters who travel its length, Metra is outstanding.