Word: salooners
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Hyde's stubbornness and common sense spring partly from his hometown. His suburban Chicago district is just a few miles from the Howard Street apartment where he grew up. One flight up from a saloon, the flat was all the family could afford during the Depression, as his father barely held on to his job collecting nickels from pay phones. His parents were Democrats by default. "If you lived in Chicago in the '30s, you were a Democrat," says longtime friend Philip Corboy. The stronger influence in Hyde's life was Catholicism. Coaxed by his mother, he attended St. George...
...will the saloon singers of the next century still be crooning George Gershwin, Cole Porter and Johnny Mercer? Or is a new generation of as-yet-unknown popular songwriters quietly turning out tomorrow's standards today? Perhaps Audra McDonald will answer that question on her next album...
...where the speed limit is whatever you think is reasonable and prudent, a state that lives in a self-imposed exile from the other 49 while it considers whether to just be its own republic, Rod Lincoln had grown tired of life as a school superintendent and bought a saloon 15 years ago in Clinton, Mont. That's probably more of a lateral move than you might think, because you still have to wake people up occasionally, still have to expel troublemakers and still have to lead and inspire...
...taking with him Emma Walters, a young German-born woman he had married the previous week, as well as a four-year-old, brown-skinned boy named Alexander, whom Christoph claimed to have adopted. Eventually they made their way to upstate New York, where Christoph bought a hotel and saloon in Callicoon, a small town on the Delaware River. Knowing little else about my great-grandfather, but appreciating the tales of adventure and bravery, my husband and I named our son Christof, altering the spelling slightly...
...wife Nancy, he was the heartthrob balladeer who sang I'll Be Seeing You to World War II G.I.s and their sweethearts. In the '50s, the persona went to war with the man. Sinatra at ballad tempo was the soul-sick, lovelorn, solitary man who closes down a midtown saloon. Up-tempo, and increasingly in his life, he was the unapologetic and (some said) unconscionable swinger, the ring-a-ding ringmaster of a million all-night parties. Which was the real Sinatra, the reveler or the lost...