LONDON -- Now that we're into the second week of Wimbledon, the question begs to be asked: Will we actually talk tennis instead of underwear?Not that underwear doesn't have its place. But usually that place is, well, under something. Based on the media here, you'd have thought it was worn on the outside -- particularly if it belongs to Anna Kournikova.
LONDON -- When the British insist that, despite our shared language, they are different from Americans, I believe them. It is not, however, due to their superior birthright, their love of manners or their unique ability to tolerate cricket for more than 30 seconds.It's the TV they watch.In today's video-saturated world, you are what you see. And while we Yanks spend an average of seven hours a day with our tube -- swallowing such pabulum as "Melrose Place," "Spin City," "Dawson's Creek" and professional wrestling -- the Brits are being spoon-fed "Ground Force."
LONDON -- I have been in England for a few days now, and you'll be happy to know the skies are still cloudy, the sandwiches are still buttered, the Royal family is still nuts, and British journalism is still somewhere between "The Front Page" and "Striptease."In fact, the next time someone accuses the Free Press of being a "homer" newspaper, I'm going to send over a copy of last week's London Daily Mirror, which had, on its cover, a giant photo of two British soccer players, wearing World War II helmets, over this headline:"ACHTUNG! SURRENDER!For You, Fritz,
You're out for a family canoe trip. You have your two young children with you. You come around a bend, and there, in the water, is a soaking wet man who has just fallen out of his canoe. He is screaming mad. He is cursing. He uses the F-word, and he uses it again and again. You paddle past quickly, trying to cover your children's ears.You're upset. You worry for your kids.But do you have a lawsuit?
Since we now turn to computers for shopping, banking, planning vacations and building bombs, I suppose it was just a matter of time before this happened:Therapy has gone on-line.That's right. For those of you who feel uncomfortable looking a therapist in the eye, you can simply log on and type in your problems. According to Time magazine, "the convenience and anonymity of the Internet beat $100 sessions on the couch hands down."Not to mention the parking.
Mitch Albom writes about running an orphanage in impoverished Port-au-Prince, Haiti, his kids, their hardships, laughs and challenges, and the life lessons he’s learned there every day.