Fifteen years ago, I remember the city smelling of sweet oysters and freshly cracked crab.  The sidewalks were regularly swept and the streets, apart from a few specific areas, were relatively pothole free.  North Beach was always bustling with Italian grandmothers packing hand-pressed raviolis into green felt tote bags.  The Mission had this unmistakable aura, no doubt fueled by toasted masa and crackling stacks of pork.  The neighborhoods were unique and individualized, but strangely ubiquitous.

I haven’t been engaged to be married for very long, but in that time, I’ve come to realize — especially when it comes to weddings — not only is everybody opinionated, everybody is an uninformed expert about everything…

There were only three seats at the bar, a peculiar set up for a Hollywood watering hole with newfound prestige. As it turned out, all three seats were occupied. In the first seat was a crocodile skinned Lana Marks handbag. In the middle seat sat a woman, her back arched so that I could see the depth of her spine and the zipper running up her Oscar de la Renta dress…

The following is a redlined version of the article “For Clay Helton, You Can Go Now,” originally published on November 12, 2018.

There is one thing that has become clear for a team mired in a dreadful 5-5 season: head coach Clay Helton has to go.

There’s no denying Tiger Woods is the game’s most popular golfer. He’s hit some miraculous shots, won by improbable margins, and currently owns 14 majors and 80 career wins, but — and hear me out here — Tiger Woods is not the player, nor the person, you think he is. And it’s time to concede he shouldn’t be as popular as his charade would have you believe.

Dear Michelob Ultra:

I recently saw one of your commercials that roused an angry, unhealthy obsession in me. This wasn’t your light, prosaic, Chris Pratt advert that aired during the Super Bowl. This was your commercial depicting two women, in tableau, sidling up to a bar, ready for a night on the town. The woman on the right — a brunette — orders a white wine for her friend — a redhead …

Unfortunately, I am a Minnesota Vikings fan. To make matters worse, I am an all-encompassing Minnesota sports fan. And in the 30+ years I’ve spent cheering for the Minnesota Timberwolves, Twins, Vikings, Wild & North Stars, I’ve experienced more than my fair share of heartbreak.