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Rock ‘n roll is all about release. Leonard Cohen calls it “the minor fall and major lift.” Bono says it’s “when God enters the building.” Call it what you will; it’s all about transcendence. And it’s difficult to come by, even when you try. I’m not entirely sure Aimee Mann was shooting for any sort…

Giants Stadium. Dusk. The house lights flicker, then fade. Carnival music wafts from the PA. The E Street Band emerges: Little Steven, Patti, Clearance. A spotlight burns a white-hot line through the summer haze. A figure ascends: rounded shoulders, unruly mane. The cheer rises up. “Bruuuuuuce!!!” Springsteen returns the greeting. “New Jersey!” he yells into…

This is it: The Fall of Rome. And this is how it goes: blue sky, 85 degrees, 300,000 people, 42 modified stock cars hurtling around a two and a half mile track at 170 mile per hour, and lots and lots of beer. This is the Allstate 400 at the Brickyard, aka The Brickyard 400.…

In the summer between my sophomore and junior years at Syracuse University, I drove from Philadelphia to San Diego and back, camping and crashing at friend’s and family’s homes in Chicago, Iowa City, Minneapolis, Denver, and points in-between (including an ill-fated layover in Darwin, Minnesota where

Prevailing wisdom about San Diego’s Comic-Con is that it’s an assembly of misfits, nerds, freaks and geeks salivating over B-listers, back issues, and collectibles. In fact, I traded in that very same simplistic, diminishing description as recently as just last night. Tonight, though, I counter with a new thesis. Comic-Con is an inspirational gathering of…

This isn’t the first time I’ve put in an 18-hour day in a generic conference room in a beautiful city. Last week I put in a few days in San Francisco, and I’ve suffered through Las Vegas and Los Angeles numerous times. But this one takes the cake. Inside, it’s Comic-Con, the annual confab of…