Claim OwnershipRichard Crowson | Political Commentary
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Politicians can run but they cannot hide from political cartoonist (and banjo player) Richard Crowson and his watchdog, Al.
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It’s so easy to forget in the midst of winter’s blanketed paralysis, that cold misery is temporary. As logs burn down to crumbles while our discomfort is being mocked outside by the ice that believes itself to be concrete, as if it had every intention of glazing the driveway and causing us to baby-step our ginger way until the end of time.
Here we go again. From Richard Nixon to Newt Gingrich to Donald Trump, the bias against unbiased news reporting continues. The president recently unleashed his famous fury on public broadcasting. And, what do you know! NPR’s public donations increased as a result, which puts me in mind of a song, of course…
Watch out for Friday the 14 th . Love it or hate it, Valentine’s Day is looming on the calendar. I thought I’d take the moment to express appreciation for some of the love-worthy things for which Hallmark does not create big glittery heart-shaped greeting cards. Among the loves of my life: The lady around the block from me who has an elaborate Valentine’s Day draping of red light strands in her front yard. They illuminate the dark wintery nights of our February gloom. The flat lay of the land
Here’s my prediction for Wichita in 2020: A successful petition drive will put saving Century II on the ballot and, thanks to Russian hackers, it will appear to have failed by a narrow margin.
It was designed in the style of Frank Lloyd Wright, I guess some people think it was Frank Lloyd Wrong
Now that we’re past Thanksgiving, it’s time to turn toward the season of Mr. C. No, no, I’m not talking about the Claus guy. At my house “Mr. C” means Perry Como. Although I listen to Perry all year round, the Christmas season is when his music becomes especially meaningful to me. I harken back this time of year to when I was around age 6 and my family gathered in front of our big old black-and-white tv to watch Perry’s shows, and his Christmas specials in particular. Our television set had a
Had an interesting conversation with a turkey the other day. We were in line together at the grocery.
I first experienced zombies around 1974 or so. That’s when a Memphis TV station decided to run “Night of the Living Dead.” Scared the bejabbers out of me. If I’d had some 2-by-4s and nails handy, I’d have secured my doors and windows. How could I have known, all those years ago, that someday our nation would elect a zombie for President? And yet, here we are. That’s how hot zombies are – that we’d actually elect one as president. And this one scares me every bit as much as my first Night of the
Ah, fall! Tumbling down between the branches of our government come the plummeting shreds of our Constitution.
Perhaps there’s a natural impulse we have, maybe from way back in our earlier evolution, to pay special attention to the negatives. Stay alert. There was a tiger in a clump of grass last week. Could be one in that one over there. A dark cloud brought troublesome weather. Is that another dark cloud forming in the west? Expect the worst in order to survive the next threat. Man, do I ever fall into that trap. This past Sunday I obsessed on the clumps of grass that could be hiding more horrible news
I’m a fan of Wichita’s Century II. It’s an iconic component of our city’s skyline. The architecture is unique and eye-catching. It was designed by John Hickman, a student of Frank Lloyd Wright, and it looks like it. Sand-colored pillars represent our Kansas wheat fields. The baby-blue domed roof is a reminder of our big, beautiful Kansas sky. Lit up at night it looks like a giant flying saucer has landed downtown. That’s weird and that’s wonderful. Who wants our city to look like a clone of
Greenland for sale or rent, Vlady Putin’s my best friend No wall but I’ll build it yet, I ain’t got no White House pet I grab ladies by their lady parts I ride out hurricanes in my golf carts I gotta ego bigger than anyone else King of the world! I tell 12 lies on the average day I raise tariffs and make the farmers pay I tweet insults out just for fun I even claim that I’m the Chosen One I don’t care what the scientists say Let the polar caps melt away If the earth burns what do I care? I gotta
This commentary originally aired on September 3, 2010. Isn’t passion great? Not the romantic kind of “oh, baby, I love you, I love you” passion, but the everyday sort of passion that people feel for practically every kind of imaginable thing. I was whining to my wife the other day about Facebook and how weird it is and how I can’t quite put my finger on what it is about Facebook that turns me off so much, when a friend sent me one of those little Facebook exercises of the sort that I especially
This is treehouse weather. The hot, dog days of summer. The right weather for climbing up into the deep green shade of an oak tree’s canopy. Sweet relief.
God bless Bela Fleck. He has reached the pinnacle of success in the banjo world. By that I mean that his is so well-respected by musicians of every stripe that he can speak the truth.
This commentary originally aired on July 15, 2016 I got tired of tripping over our old dining chairs, stored in our basement. We replaced them months ago, but I tend to hang onto things too long. This past Saturday, we put all seven out by the curb with a sign saying “free.” Throughout the day, I’d glance out the window, expecting them to be gone. But, no. There they sat, as cars impertinently flew by. It’s shallow and immature of me, but by the end of the day I was actually a little peeved. How
You think you know somebody and then they slap you right in the face with their “Make America Great Again” cap. This happened to me recently in a conversation I was having with my dog Lucy.
Do we really need a “Space Force”? Extremely Stable Genius Donald Trump seems to think so, and that should be good enough for most of us.
This commentary originally aired on April 4, 2018. Some months ago we decided to add to our family and we adopted a labradoodle. His calm and demure personality at the time caused us to name him Perry. It was in honor of Perry Como, the calm and demure crooner from years ago.
You're listening to me right now, so you may be aware of the latest NPR controversy: The new Morning Edition theme song.
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