Born On The Floor

Today is panic in dayjobland. If witless emails from obscure parts of a publishing empire were laser beams, I'd be limey space swiss cheese by now, only smouldering a bit less. In the mean time, however, and for your pleasure, a recent column for Sugarzine. It is a reprise of my finest hour - the NY transit strike.

Coming up today, well maybe not today, but tomorrow, well maybe not tomorrow, but soon, a disquisition on global energy security. Russians will again be involved.