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I woke to the dulcet tones of Dick Cheyney and The Booing Republicans on the clock radio this morning. What a buncha’ jerks. I walked to work down a near-silent Ninth Avenue, the traffic choked to a trickle by orange cones and fresh-from-the-academy cops. I was stopped cold on 45th Street by a phalanx of…

I pull my sunglasses over my eyes, slip on my headphones, fold my hands on my lap, and fall asleep prior to takeoff. Three hours and 1300 miles later, I wake as we touch down at LaGuardia. An hour more, and I am at work high above Times Square. Still, I have yet to arrive.…

An amber moon is rising full over Biscayne Bay. Heat lightning streaks the horizon. Over my shoulder, the diaphanous curtains shift in the warm breeze. And I yawn. MTV News’ Pre-Show By The Shore and MTV’s Video Music Awards were, without fail, the largest effort in which I’ve participated. It was like going to war.…

I took a rare road trip from my basement hovel below the Video Music Awards in the American Airlines Arena and was dually rewarded. Much of my time in Miami, nay, all of it, has been spent in the one square mile between the Marriott Biscayne and the AAA, and most of it’s been spent…

It’s 110 degrees in Miami, and I have a cold. I first notice a touch of the postnasal drip around 4am this morning. I’m dreaming about foreign lands where people wear T-shirts with their country in the center of the globe — “Look,” I said, “Everyone thinks they’re the center of the universe!” — when…

I just got handed a flyer that says “join us for the CREW WRAP PARTY at Bongos.” Bongos is the poorly-named restaurant about six feet above my head. The party there begins at the end of the Big Show, which ought to be just about the time when my work really begins. Overheard During VMA…