ON THE WHOLE, I'm an imperfect Catholic, but there is one particular area of my Christian identity in which I excel: guilt. Jews talk a lot about the concept, and have even built some cultural traditions around it, but, to my knowledge, no one else has ac
I'M MORBIDLY fascinated by the rhetorical mud being slung between Democrats and Republicans these days. How exhilarating to hear Hillary Clinton labeled "unstable" by Donald Trump, who is himself called "bat(bleep)-crazy" by a fellow billionaire and Hillaryite, Mark Cuban.
NORMALLY, I'm no fan of the silly-season stuff, and you know exactly what I'm talking about. I'd rather know what a political candidate thinks about the federal debt than whether his wife is a looker. I'd rather have some understanding of what another candidate will do to lower the unemployment rate than whether her husband is still playing around on the side. These are the somewhat boring, yet nonetheless crucial issues that face us in an election year.
AS HEIDI CRUZ left Cleveland's Quicken Loans arena after her husband Ted gave his stemwinder at the Republican National Convention, she was escorted by security through a hostile crowd. Apparently, people in the audience were annoyed that Cruz hadn't endo
I WATCHED Paul Ryan's town hall on CNN this week for a number of reasons, not the least of which is my slight (OK, significant) crush on the House Speaker. He is a decade younger than I am, and more geek chic than GQ, but I still have a button that says, "I Heart Paul" from his ill-fated run as Mitt Romney's vice president, which I wear when I want to annoy the liberals at Starbucks.
SOME PEOPLE seem to think that I actually matter. They message me in response to a particular column with either angry criticism or "atta girl!" euphoria, assuming that whatever I've written will have some impact on other readers. I am often amused by these emails, because the truth of the matter is that I can't even cajole my 7-year-old nephew to stop sticking french fries in the dog's nostrils. Clearly, my persuasive heft isn't all that hefty.
I VOWED that I would never vote for Donald Trump. I have written, at last count, seven columns explaining why he repulses me. That is still true; his being and character necessitate spiritual Dramamine. He is, to put it simply, the human equivalent of mayonnaise, the single most disgusting substance I have encountered in my 54 years on Earth.
HERE ARE SOME of the things you are not supposed to compare abortion to: Slavery. That's because slaves were human, and, even though the law treated them as property, the truth of their separate and sacred identity was obvious to the naked and uncompromised eye.
A COUPLE OF weeks ago, I wrote about the child who fell into the gorilla exhibit at the Cincinnati Zoo. I said the mother was to blame, because she should have been watching the child at all times. The repercussions from that article were momentous: I los
I HAVE BEEN TOLD by otherwise intelligent, alert, accomplished women that I must vote for Hillary Clinton. Some have said it's because failing to cast my vote for Bill's charming better half will be a de facto "plus one" for Team Trump. While I doubt that is the case, and polls seem to bear me out, it's a fairly respectable argument: Hillary minus me minus many other women equals Donald.
ABOUT 20 YEARS ago, when I was teaching French at a girls' high school in Malvern, I was picked to chaperone 40 of my students on a class trip to Paris. Having lived in Paris a decade earlier, I knew the city fairly well and was excited to get back to the sidewalk cafes, the museums, the Left Bank, and the sugar crepes that continued to fill my dreams, if not my stomach.
See Christine Flowers on Channel 6's "Inside Story" Sunday at 11:30 a.m.