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Category: The Soapbox

Pick up the paper

I grew up on newspapers. My dad worked for the Middletown [Del.] Transcript as a young man, setting type and running the press. Years later, he’d return to the Transcript. It was his last job, too. When we moved to Willow Grove, we had the Delaware State News delivered to our house every day, slipped into a… Read More Pick up the paper

December 6, 2016December 6, 2016 John Donovan3 Comments

He blew his chance

I’ve had a week to digest what happened last Tuesday night, a week to wrap my head around this thing. I got nothing. Donald Trump won. Is shouldn’t be that hard to handle. Donald fricking Trump won. He’s going to be President of the United States. I mean, I guess I’m a little angry, though it’s hard… Read More He blew his chance

November 15, 2016November 16, 2016 John DonovanLeave a comment

The End is Here

Here we are. Stomachs in knots and bone dead-tired, we made it. In a few hours, we’ll have a new president. All I can think is, Free at Last, Free at Last, Thank God Almighty I’m Free at Last After a deafening and depressing election season overrun with emails, gutter talk, late-night tweets, leaks, serious accusations and ridiculous claims, we’re ready… Read More The End is Here

November 7, 2016November 6, 2016 John DonovanLeave a comment

Sweating it out

I’m on the elliptical Friday morning, sweating like a fat New Yorker on the D train at 5 o’clock in late July — I’m really, really sweaty, is what I’m saying — and I look up at the TV and see the calm, cool, preternaturally well-groomed Mike Pence on the Today show set. (Pence’s hair… Read More Sweating it out

October 28, 2016October 28, 2016 John DonovanLeave a comment

Sex and the presidency

Like a lot of people I know, I spent Sunday night cringing in front of the television set, wondering what new scumbaggy lows the Republican nominee for president could inflict on the American public. I watched the debate with a combination of all-out dread, through-my-fingers embarrassment and a gnawing, nauseating fear that it all could get worse.… Read More Sex and the presidency

October 12, 2016October 12, 2016 John DonovanLeave a comment

Turn 68, you’ll renegotiate

First off, don’t get all wrapped up in the headline. I’m a long way from 68. So shut up. The hed — that’s a journalism word there — is from a John Mayer song about getting older, Stop This Train. The lyric goes like this: Had a talk with my old man Said “help me understand” He said “turn… Read More Turn 68, you’ll renegotiate

September 16, 2016December 6, 2016 John DonovanLeave a comment

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