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By Robert Hilburn and Robert Hilburn,LOS ANGELES TIMES | March 17, 2005
Matt Ward is a Portland, Ore., resident who hails from Southern California, but there's a warm, universal spirit to his lo-fi album Transistor Radio that makes you feel his musical instincts could have been honed in any Smalltown, U.S.A. - especially one in the South, where his beloved country, blues and folk strains are as much in the air as the morning dew. Listening to this concept album is akin to monitoring the radio at some magical point decades ago when disc jockeys were still free to pick their own records and every turn of the dial gave you a slightly different musical personality.
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NEWS
By Frederick N. Rasmussen and Frederick N. Rasmussen,fred.rasmussen@baltsun.com | May 17, 2009
This month, beleaguered General Motors announced that after 83 years, it was finally eliminating its Pontiac division in hopes of averting bankruptcy. This news catapulted me back to another time, when Pontiacs were Kings of the Road. I was also awash in Pontiac nostalgia because the first family car I really remember was a Pontiac. With the outbreak of World War II, automakers ceased production. With the return of peace, Americans were eager to take to the highways once again . The pent-up desire was fueled by cheap gas, big postwar salaries, and a desire to drive the fastest and most stylish models Detroit could provide.
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FEATURES
By ROB KASPER | May 8, 1999
UNLIKE THE Seven Dwarfs -- Doc, Happy, Sneezy, Sleepy, Dopey, Grumpy, Bashful -- I do not believe in whistling while I work around the house. But I do believe in listening to radio broadcasts of sporting events as I putter.Late Sunday afternoon, for instance, I attempted to simultaneously wash a car and listen to a broadcast of the San Antonio Spurs-Utah Jazz professional basketball game. It was tricky.It was not as easy as washing a car while listening to a baseball game. I had performed that task earlier in the afternoon, washing the other of our two cars as I listened to the Orioles beat the Twins.
ENTERTAINMENT
By Robert Hilburn and Robert Hilburn,LOS ANGELES TIMES | March 17, 2005
Matt Ward is a Portland, Ore., resident who hails from Southern California, but there's a warm, universal spirit to his lo-fi album Transistor Radio that makes you feel his musical instincts could have been honed in any Smalltown, U.S.A. - especially one in the South, where his beloved country, blues and folk strains are as much in the air as the morning dew. Listening to this concept album is akin to monitoring the radio at some magical point decades ago when disc jockeys were still free to pick their own records and every turn of the dial gave you a slightly different musical personality.
NEWS
By Frederick N. Rasmussen and Frederick N. Rasmussen,fred.rasmussen@baltsun.com | May 17, 2009
This month, beleaguered General Motors announced that after 83 years, it was finally eliminating its Pontiac division in hopes of averting bankruptcy. This news catapulted me back to another time, when Pontiacs were Kings of the Road. I was also awash in Pontiac nostalgia because the first family car I really remember was a Pontiac. With the outbreak of World War II, automakers ceased production. With the return of peace, Americans were eager to take to the highways once again . The pent-up desire was fueled by cheap gas, big postwar salaries, and a desire to drive the fastest and most stylish models Detroit could provide.
SPORTS
By Ken Fuson and Ken Fuson,SUN STAFF | February 20, 1998
He was loud. He was obnoxious. He was the worst homer in the history of baseball broadcasting.But Harry Caray was my buddy.What year was it -- 1964? We are in the old Chevy, Mom and Dad in the front seat, my brother and I leaning forward. (This was long before seat belts.) It's a Sunday afternoon, I remember that, and the visors are pulled down to block the sun and we're driving past another cornfield in Iowa, and we're straining to hear the scratchy voice on the car radio.The Cardinals are winning, the Phillies are losing, the National League pennant is up for grabs and Harry Caray is going nuts.
SPORTS
May 24, 2006
Do you stay up late to listen to non-televised Orioles games when they are on the West Coast? Not since 1996. That, as you may recall, is when the Orioles' moronic leadership ran Jon Miller out of town. John K. Burkhardt Towson They're so boring and inept, I can't stay awake to watch them on TV when they're in Baltimore and start at 7:05 p.m. Jim Yealy Taneytown No. There was a time, when much younger, I would put the transistor radio on my pillow, and Chuck Thompson would weave these wonderful mind pictures.
SPORTS
By BILL ORDINE | May 2, 2007
I will confess I have become a baseball detractor on many levels in my latter decades for reasons too sundry to mention here but which you'll likely hear about from time to timegoing forward-RD. One of those transistor-radio-under-the-pillow baseball geeks as I kid, I've felt more alienated over the years by the game's devolution. Call me cranky. And so that's why I find Toronto's Roy Halladay so refreshing.
NEWS
March 9, 2007
Edna Goynes, a retired housekeeper and homemaker, died of pneumonia Sunday at Levindale Hebrew Geriatric Center. The former West Baltimore resident was 93. Born Edna Whittington in Baltimore, she was a 1931 graduate of Frederick Douglass High School. She did housekeeping work for area families before retiring about 30 years ago. "She was an outgoing, fun-loving person. She had a great smile and a great laugh," said her grandson, David Nelson of Pikesville. "When she was cooking, she liked to have a transistor radio tuned to lively music or an Orioles game.
NEWS
July 5, 2012
Shortly after the power went off in my home Friday I located my battery-operated transistor radio and tuned in WBAL to listen for emergency information about the storm. Much to my surprise and dismay, WBAL was broadcasting "the post game show from Camden Yards. " As a native Baltimorean and Oriole fan, I bleed as much orange as the next guy. But given the circumstances, I really needed to hear the storm coverage. I kept my radio tuned to WBAL, hoping to hear about the weather.
FEATURES
By ROB KASPER | May 8, 1999
UNLIKE THE Seven Dwarfs -- Doc, Happy, Sneezy, Sleepy, Dopey, Grumpy, Bashful -- I do not believe in whistling while I work around the house. But I do believe in listening to radio broadcasts of sporting events as I putter.Late Sunday afternoon, for instance, I attempted to simultaneously wash a car and listen to a broadcast of the San Antonio Spurs-Utah Jazz professional basketball game. It was tricky.It was not as easy as washing a car while listening to a baseball game. I had performed that task earlier in the afternoon, washing the other of our two cars as I listened to the Orioles beat the Twins.
SPORTS
By Ken Fuson and Ken Fuson,SUN STAFF | February 20, 1998
He was loud. He was obnoxious. He was the worst homer in the history of baseball broadcasting.But Harry Caray was my buddy.What year was it -- 1964? We are in the old Chevy, Mom and Dad in the front seat, my brother and I leaning forward. (This was long before seat belts.) It's a Sunday afternoon, I remember that, and the visors are pulled down to block the sun and we're driving past another cornfield in Iowa, and we're straining to hear the scratchy voice on the car radio.The Cardinals are winning, the Phillies are losing, the National League pennant is up for grabs and Harry Caray is going nuts.
FEATURES
By Rob Kasper | February 24, 2001
IT IS SAID that adversity - and around here a 5-inch snowfall is considered adversity - doesn't build character, it merely displays it. I know, for instance, that a snowstorm brings out the German in me. By that I mean that when snow falls, I feel a compelling need to put my domicile in order the way my dad, a German-American, used to put his household in ship-shape. The walks must be cleared. The snow shovels must be standing at attention. The boots and gloves must fit and should be lined up in neat rows in front of the furnace.
FEATURES
By Jeff Warner and Jeff Warner,CHICAGO TRIBUNE | October 1, 1998
The other day a kid zipped by me on his bike, and I froze. Kid and bike were gone in a flash, so I thought it was my imagination. Then I saw a story in the news: My Sting Ray bike was back, part of the retro craze that revived lava lamps and bell bottoms.Adventures on that bike are some of my fondest memories of childhood, memories of fun, flight and freedom. I still can recall the day Mom took me to Sears. We bought the bike fully assembled, and I walked it through the mall to the car, beaming with pride.
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