Posts by Nathan Graziano
In November, Netflix dropped director Jerry Ciccoritti’s “Hot Frosty”—such a fetchingly oxymoronic title—and this reviewer predicts that, for years to come, holiday audiences will be warming up to this tour-de-force film the moment after the Thanksgiving turkey hits the fridge.
To be honest, I’m not sure how I feel about the resurgence of the mustache. While I’m vehemently opposed to the revival of the mullet—which I shamelessly flaunted long after the trend originally passed—I’m ambivalent about the mustache.
Speaking of relatives, I’ve long wondered if luck—good or bad—might also be hereditary. To my knowledge, scientists have yet to isolate a “luck” gene, but I’m sure that we can all probably name a few families who seem to have an inordinate amount of luck—horseshoes up the keister—as well as some families who seem downright snakebitten.
In an attempt to preserve my liver and my mental well-being, I’ve decided to take a “time out” from any media reporting on Trump, or the imminent plans to exact Project 2025, or the apparently inevitable demise of democracy.
For author and humorist Harrison Scott Key—who has published two highly-acclaimed memoirs titled “Congratulations, Who Are You Again?” and “The World’s Largest Man”—his marital struggles and the nightmare that he incurred following his wife Lauren’s affair with a neighbor became the fodder for his third book, “How to Stay Married: The Most Insane Love Story Ever Told” (Avid Reader Press, 2023).
Manchester Memorial High School English teacher Elaine J. Makara never aspired to publish a book of her own poetry, but sometimes serendipity has its own plan.
In my own attempt to make sense of this, I went for a long walk in the woods—maybe channeling my inner-Wordsworth—the day after the election. For some reason, the lyrics to Bruce Springsteen’s “Independence Day”—from his 1980 album “The River”—kept playing in my head.
But we, liberals and conservatives alike, should never dehumanize each other. We need to keep in mind—regardless of the result on Tuesday, or Wednesday morning, or two weeks from Tuesday when all of the votes are finally counted—that ideological differences don’t make us enemies, at least not in a democracy.
When I reflect on October 27, 2004, exactly two decades ago today, it’s not hyperbolic to say that as a lifelong Red Sox fan, it was one of the happiest days of my life when they ended the 86-year “Curse of The Bambino.”
I’m talking, of course, about demonic possession. If a character is possessed by a demonic spirit, I’m out. If a ouija board is in any way part of the mise en scène, I’m also out. Demonic possession is a surefire way to freak out a Catholic—even a lapsed-Catholic, like me.