Posts Tagged ‘ local news ’

"Code Talkers" Remember Their Role in WWII

November 12, 2011

Navajo volunteers were an elite group recruited by the Marines to create the only unbroken code in modern military history. Photo Credit: Toni Guinyard Read the original post: “Code Talkers” Remember Their Role in WWII

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Academy Confirms: Billy Crystal Will Return As Oscars Host For 9th Time

November 11, 2011
Academy Confirms: Billy Crystal Will Return As Oscars Host For 9th Time

It’s a rumor no more: The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences officially announced late yesterday that funnyman Billy Crystal will indeed return to host the Oscars in 2012. more › Excerpt from: Academy Confirms: Billy Crystal Will Return As Oscars Host For 9th Time

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Video: Michael Jackson’s deathbed up for auction

November 11, 2011

Michael Jackson ‘s deathbed could soon find a new home this December. The bed where the King of Pop spent his final moments alive will go on sale at at Julien’s Auctions Gallery in Beverly Hills, California. Go here to see the original: Video: Michael Jackson’s deathbed up for auction

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Distraught Father Drives Into Oncoming Traffic After Hearing His Son Died In Traffic Accident

November 11, 2011
Distraught Father Drives Into Oncoming Traffic After Hearing His Son Died In Traffic Accident

A father distraught that his son had been killed in an accident earlier today drove into oncoming traffic and died in a separate accident in Eastern San Diego County. more › Go here to read the rest: Distraught Father Drives Into Oncoming Traffic After Hearing His Son Died In Traffic Accident

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Street Artist Vhils Talks Deconstruction, Humanity & Decay

November 11, 2011
Street Artist Vhils Talks Deconstruction, Humanity & Decay

During strolls along Venice’s trendy Abbot Kinney Boulevard or while visiting Post No Bills, you may have noticed a giant etching of a woman’s face on the exterior wall of said gallery. After months of waiting for his jet setter pace to slacken, we finally caught up with Vhils to ask him about the process, which was captured on video , and his favorite street artists. more › Read more: Street Artist Vhils Talks Deconstruction, Humanity & Decay

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Tiki Trucks: Tiki Drinks + Food Trucks = Thursday Nights in NoHo

November 11, 2011
Tiki Trucks: Tiki Drinks + Food Trucks = Thursday Nights in NoHo

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College Hoops Player Goes on Naked Rampage After Getting Cut

November 10, 2011
College Hoops Player Goes on Naked Rampage After Getting Cut

Player goes nuts after team drops him. Photo Credit: Fresno Pacific See the rest here: College Hoops Player Goes on Naked Rampage After Getting Cut

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Christina Patterson: It Wasn’t Just One Man Who Killed the King of Pop

November 10, 2011

When the verdict was announced, his sister shrieked. She sent a tweet to her 125,000 followers saying “VICTORY,” and ended it with seven exclamation marks. His fans waved their banners praising Jesus, and screamed, and wept, and blew horns. People said, while crying in front of cameras, that there had, at long last, been what their banners had demanded: “Justice for Michael!” His mother agreed. “I feel,” she told reporters, “better now.” Everyone seemed to. Everyone — apart, perhaps, from Conrad Murray, and his defense lawyers, and maybe some of the women who claimed to be his girlfriend, and maybe some of the mothers of some of his children — seemed to feel an awful lot better now. They seemed to think that although nothing could bring back the man they claimed to love so much, this was a very, very happy day. They seemed to feel like Michael Jackson’s mother, who couldn’t wait “to go home and share this day” with his children, and “couldn’t hold back tears of joy.” Everyone seemed to think that what had been a tragedy wasn’t any more. Because a man who was paid nearly £100,000 a month to give him the kind of drugs you can’t just pick up at Boots, had given him an awful lot of the kind of drugs you can’t pick up at Boots, and been so careless about it that he’d been chatting on the phone to a cocktail waitress while the man he was meant to be looking after was having a bad reaction to a drug you definitely can’t pick up at Boots, had been found guilty of killing him by accident. Or it wasn’t as much of a tragedy as it had been, because the person who caused it had been found and would be punished. Perhaps when these people heard that the most successful pop star in world history, who was not only a brilliant singer and songwriter, but also did some of the most athletic and original dancing ever done by a rock star, and who cared so much about his appearance that he made improving it into a life’s quest, was crippled with arthritis, and nearly blind, and had a toenail fungus so bad that doctors thought his flesh was rotting away, they thought this was a normal thing for a 50-year-old man. Maybe when they heard a recording of his voice, which was so weak and slurred that you could hardly make out the words, but which had sounded pretty good on the albums that almost everyone in the Western world had bought, they thought this was normal, too. And maybe not a single one of these people wondered what on earth had happened to his family, and the people he called his friends. Perhaps they thought it was normal to watch your brother, or son, or friend, have so many operations on his face that some people said some of the bones in it were in danger of collapsing, and that what you should say, when he came out of hospital from the latest one, was that he definitely looked better than before. Maybe they thought, when they heard he was paying someone nearly £100,000 a month, to give him drugs almost every doctor in the world would say he didn’t need, that this sounded like excellent value. And maybe when they heard another recording of the pop star in court, telling that doctor that he wanted to use the proceeds of the tour he was planning to help sick children, because he himself “didn’t have a childhood,” they just shrugged and thought “so what?” Maybe they thought that it didn’t really matter whether you had a childhood. That a childhood was a small thing to give up to produce the kind of music that the King of Pop produced, and a small price to pay for the fame he had. It isn’t all that easy to know what Michael Jackson’s family, friends and fans thought about any of these things, because, when they talk about him, they tend to talk as if he wasn’t a human being, but a god. His sister, La Toya, said on Monday that “victory was served” because her brother was, though technically dead, “in that courtroom.” She didn’t say what, if anything, she’d done when she’d watched her brother being flogged by their father for making mistakes in rehearsals throughout his childhood, and from the start of his singing career at the age of six. Nor did his mother. And nor, of course, did his father, who used, according to his son, to watch his sons rehearsing with a belt in his hand, and often told him that his nose was “too fat.” You’d have thought that sisters, and brothers, and parents, and friends, might think it wasn’t usually a good sign when someone built themselves a giant fun fair, and zoo, and named it after a fantasy land in a children’s book about a boy who never grows up. And that they might be a little bit worried when their best friends seemed to be prepubescent boys and a chimpanzee called Bubbles. But sisters, and brothers, and parents, and friends, didn’t seem too worried by any of this, or, if they were, they didn’t say so. They seemed to think that nothing could be strange in the life, and lifestyle, of someone who was very, very talented, and very, very successful, and very, very, very rich. They seemed to think that someone who was very talented, and very successful, and very rich should always do exactly what they wanted, even if what they wanted was to wreck their once-handsome face and body with plastic surgery and drugs. Michael Jackson called the drug that killed him “milk.” He never stopped seeking the props of the childhood he had lost. Perhaps when he looked at photos of that brown-skinned boy, with his big nose, big lips, and big smile, he saw a shadow of the person he once was, the person he’d paid doctors to wipe out. Perhaps he remembered a time before his life became a giant freak show. “Wasn’t nothing strange about your daddy,” Al Sharpton told Jackson’s children at his funeral. That, of course, was a lie, but what he said next was true. “It was strange,” he said, “what your daddy had to deal with. But he dealt with it anyway.” Yes, he dealt with it anyway: the parents who cared more about money and fame than that their son had a childhood, the brothers and sisters who were nearly as damaged as him, the people who said they were friends, but who only seemed to want to be sprinkled with his star dust, and the people — so many people — who just wanted his money. And a press poised for every new twist in the crazy carnival his life became. It was Conrad Murray’s defense lawyer who reminded jurors that “this is not a reality show, it’s reality.” Unfortunately, no one in Jackson’s sad, strange and shockingly friendless life, seemed to know the difference. Originally posted here: Christina Patterson: It Wasn’t Just One Man Who Killed the King of Pop

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Rapper Heavy D dies at age 44

November 10, 2011

Rapper Heavy D collapsed in his Beverly Hills home Tuesday morning and died a short time later at a Los Angeles hospital, according to police and the coroner. See more here: Rapper Heavy D dies at age 44

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J. Crew’s Jenna Lyons List Stylish Brooklyn Townhouse

November 9, 2011
J. Crew’s Jenna Lyons List Stylish Brooklyn Townhouse

SELLER: Jenna Lyons and Vincent Mazeau LOCATION: Brooklyn, NY PRICE: $3,750,000 SIZE: 4,400 square feet, 5-7 bedrooms and 3.5 bathrooms (total) YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Today we’re going to piggy on the back of the cool kids over at Curbed NY who were–we think– the first to reveal the New York City real estate news that superstar J. Crew president and executive creative director Jenna Lyons and her soon-to-be ex-husband Vincent Mazeau have hoisted their beautifully (re)done Brooklyn, NY townhouse on the market with an asking price of $3,750,000. Miz Lyons and Mister Mazeau may not be household names for many of the children but they are certainly high wattage if low key players in the intersecting and sometimes incestuous worlds of international fashion, art, publishing, advertising, interior design, and etc. When this urbane and arty-farty couple married in 2003 they didn’t do anything so quotidian as stand up in a church or temple they barely (or never) attend and make a vow of union before family, friends, God, government and various business associates and professional contacts it would be awkward not to invite. Oh no, puppies. These dyed in the (double-faced) wool fashionistas turned it out but good for their big day, a catalog perfect late summer affair held on a bucolic farm in the terribly chic Berkshires region of Massachusetts. The event was described by Miz Lyons herself as ” a black-tie barbecue. ” He, shaggy-haired and pleasantly stocky, wore full Scot regalia–Scots? Scotish? Hello?–and she, a willowy slip of a thing, donned a simple but chic Empire-waisted white dress with a plunging neckline of her own design. At the time they were married she was an executive but not yet the creative director at J. Crew. He a strutted he creative stuff successful art director who worked with famous photographers. As she climbed the khaki-wearing corporate ladder at J. Crew his career seems to have taken a bit of back seat. Five years ago they made a baby boy and since then he’s (reportedly) been the goateed stay-at-home dad . Some reports on their marital matters say he’s continued an artistic practice over the years but Your Mama knows about as much about that as we know about the grooming rituals of the spotted hyena, which is to say absolutely nada. Many of the tabs, mags and gossip glossies who have discussed Miz Lyons’ impending divorce state she earns around five million bucks a year to creatively direct the J. Crew brand. The clothing company’s annual report filed with the SEC earlier in the year reportedly shows Miz Lyons earned $885,000 in salary and bonuses in 2010 and it is Mister Mickey Drexler, the company’s current chairman and CEO (and hardcore real estate baller ), who reportedly earns upwards of five million clam diggers annually.* *We were unable to turn up the exact numbers represented in the SEC filing documents we (briefly) perused online . It’s been reported here and there that the parting pair both continue to live in the family’s townhouse located in the leafy, family-friendly and brownstone-lined Park Slope neighborhood. None-the-less they’ve both, so the story goes, already moved on to new relationships. Awwwkwaaarrrrdd. We don’t know who Mister Mazeau might be hooking up with but Miz Lyons has hopped the fence and–as Bravolebrity Andy Cohen says–is now “swimming in the lady pond” with a fashion world gal pal she’s known for quite some time. Not to make light of the trauma of divorce or minimize the intense emotional upheaval that often accompanies it but when fancy and/or famous people–and regular folks too–get divorced the family seat often gets sold in order to divvy up assets and etc. So, like all the other real estate gossips out there who had read about their break up, we too knew it was only a matter of time before they put their much-published Park Slope townhouse on the market. Property records show Miz Lyons and Mister Mazeau purchased the 4 floor, 20(ish)-foot wide Italianate townhouse in April 2004 for $1,308,000. The house, originally built in 1800 as per listing information, has since undergone a transformative restoration wherein many of the retained and restored original architectural details now disguise all new mechanical systems including electric and plumbing plus 3-zone central air conditioning. We don’t really know how the house was divided at the time Miz Lyons and Mister Mazeau acquired it in 2004 but today it contains two separate if not equal units as shown on the floor plan (above). There’s a triplex (plus cellar) owner’s unit and a floor-through (rental) apartment on the garden level. A discreet doorway under the front stoop leads to the garden apartment comprised of 25-foot long living/dining room, full kitchen with nearby laundry closet, 1 bathroom and 2 bedrooms–one with walk-in closet the other quite compact–that both open to the south facing rear garden. Listing information shows the house has 7 bedrooms and 3.5 bathrooms but by themselves those numbers are (unintentionally) a bit confusing. Two of the bedrooms and one of the bathrooms is located in the garden apartment. The other 2.5 bathrooms and 5 (potential) bedrooms are located on the top two levels of the owner’s triplex (plus cellar). A quick pass over the floor plan shows that although the triplex unit has the possibility of 5 bedrooms it’s currently configured with just three plus a small (closet less) room that could, in pique or necessary pinch, be pressed into use as a bedroom. A classic stoop–and we j’adore an urban stoop–leads up to the gleaming black front doors that open into a small vestibule and stair hall. To the right a nearly 40-foot bowling alley-like double parlor struts its stuff as “formal” living and dining rooms with original wood floors stained espresso, deliciously over-scaled matching antique chandeliers, identical carved limestone fireplace mantels and, around the ceilings, doors and windows, elegant and intense moldings. The day-core, as might be expected of the home of the creative force behind J. Crew’s current sequins meets khakis vibe, has the look of a studied effortlessness, an intuitively curated pastiche of the old and new, hard and soft, finely finished and beautifully beat up. In juxtaposition to and (mostly) in harmony with the antiques and distressed wood pieces that echo the silent histories of all the previous inhabitants of the 120-plus year old home, there are tailored upholstered pieces, a soupçon of mid-century modern, and a lot of fur throws, animal skin rugs and wall-mounted antlers, antlers and more antlers. Two magnetically tall and slender doorways at the back of the dining room connect to the light-filled, south-facing, and fully updated and upgraded eat-in kitchen the opens through European-style French doors to a small balcony with stairs down to the terraced and fully landscaped backyard. A deep and wide, window-lined bay perfectly fits a pair of deconstructed armchairs draped in sheep skins and separated by a Saarinen Tulip side table and makes for a cozy, sunshiney spot for coffee, tea and candy. The kitchen, compact but high style, is open to the breakfast area over a peninsula of black Shaker-style cabinets topped with a big ol’ slab of marble. It’s probably not even ordinary Carrara marble, children, but rather a more exotic kind marble from Turkey or someplace exotic like that because, let’s be honest, that’s how these kinds of stylish folks roll. The kitchen strikes a perfectly minimalist match with a single open shelf to replace overhead cabinets but fails, as far as we are concerned, with the positioning of the sink at the short end of the peninsula (see floor plan above), a problematic location for a myriad of reasons so obvious we won’t even mention them. A private stair hall connects the parlor floor to the cellar. The stripped down space, accessed via a floating steel and wood staircase has exposed stacked stone foundation walls, unvarnished wide-plank pine flooring as well as pine-paneled walls, built-in bookshelves and storage cabinetry. The cellar contains a play/media room with gigantic wall mounted tee-vee and two even more gigantic black bean bags. Other parts of the cellar, according to the floor plan, contain a small workshop and built-in wine storage cabinets. What the cellar does not have is a pooper, which means the full bladdered must hike two full sets of stairs to get to the nearest facility tucked into the back of the parlor level stair hall. The expansive master suite encompasses the entire third floor. The large bedroom space retains all its original (or replaced) architectural detailing that includes yet another carved limestone fireplace mantel but was decoratively modernized with walls, trim and baseboards monochromatically painted a warm steel gray. The bedroom space is very sparely furnished with a bed that floats in the middle of the room and decorated with a few artworks leaning up against the wall. One of the room’s two windows opens to a sizable step-up terrace with voyeur’s view down into the djacent yards and through the tree tops in to the neighboring townhouses. An arched opening–that does not appear to have a door or curtain that would provide any sort of privacy at all–joins the bedroom with the bathroom, or at least the part of the bathroom with the crapper and the freestanding tub shower. The sinks are elsewhere in the suite. We do so swoon for the herringbone pattern hardwood flooring that looks like it might have been ripped out of a 18th century Parisian hôtel particulier but we are thoroughly perplexed and bewildered by the shower/tub set up. It’s not that we mind climbing into a bathtub to take a shower it’s that there’s no shower curtain to contain the the water spray. Nobody loves a pared down design moment more than Your Mama but it makes us need a nerve pill to think about what it takes to deal with that watery damn mess every day. You just know these people live up in this multi-million dollar house with half a dozen towels down on the floor around that tub every damn day. They must need a minimum wage laundress who comes in thrice a week to launder the towels and other linens required to keep, the walls, floors, terlit, windows and every other damn thing in that bathroom dry not to mention mold-free. Short, parallel corridors, one with kitchenette one with two sinks, connect the bedroom to the super-sized walk-in closet and dressing room complete with carved limestone mantel flanked by steel and glass shelving towers lined with Miz Lyons’ rather extensive–and wonderfully color coordinated–collection of shoes. One more flight up there are two large bedrooms that share a marble and tile hall bathroom. Between the bedrooms there is a laundry room and adjoining one of them is a rather small room without a proper closet that could be used as a bedroom (or any number of other ways) for less-favored house guests or live-in domestic staff you don’t want to get too comfortable. We don’t normally discuss the rooms of children around here. Partly it’s just a weird quirk we’ve made a policy and partly because we just can not bear the cutesy-tootsy and hyper-genderized day-core that infects a sizable percentage of children’s bedrooms we’ve seen. That said, we’re swooning over Miz Lyons and Mister Mazeau’s son’s playful bedroom that has both crisp white and dark muddy brown walls, yet another carved limestone fireplace–there are seven in the house altogether–and a ceiling boldy painted with vivid yellow and white stripes. The mixy-matchy bed dressings, jumbled stacks of books, orange molded plastic Panton chair and the saucer-shaped George Nelson bubble light are just icing on the cake. A cursory glance through available online property records did not turn up any other homes owned by Miz Lyons and/or Mister Mazeau. Even still, it’s almost impossible for Your Mama to believe that a snazzy New York City couple like Miz Lyons and Mister Mazeau do not (or did not previously) maintain a magazine spread-worthy weekend residence in the Berkshires, on the North Fork of Long Island, down by the Delaware Water Gap or one of the other less obvious areas around The Big Apple where savvy (and increasingly well-heeled) city dwellers like the Lyons-Mazeaus regularly rent and own second homes to escape the relentless New York City hubbub. Presumably and hopefully each will soon move to their own homes they will each do up in whatever style suits their newly divorced if not exactly single lifestyle and from where they will co-parent in a peaceful and orderly manner. listing photos: Sotheby’s International Realty Read more here: J. Crew’s Jenna Lyons List Stylish Brooklyn Townhouse

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Raw Police Video