I'm an instant fan of the Minnesota Timberwolves. Watching the Timberwolves for the first time this year during their series with the defending champion Denver Nuggets, I've become infatuated with their exciting play, culminating with their comeback ...
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My infatuation with Anthony Edwards, Naz Reid and the Minnesota Timberwolves and more...

My infatuation with Anthony Edwards, Naz Reid and the Minnesota Timberwolves

I'm an instant fan of the Minnesota Timberwolves.

Watching the Timberwolves for the first time this year during their series with the defending champion Denver Nuggets, I've become infatuated with their exciting play, culminating with their comeback from 20 points down Sunday night to beat the Nuggets and advance to the Western Conference finals against the Dallas Mavericks.

I've been following rising Timberwolves superstar Anthony "Antman" Edwards since he was an Atlanta prep sensation and inconsistently brilliant player for the Georgia Bulldogs.

Edwards plays with Michael Jordan-like swagger, using mesmerizing moves to hit three-pointers or drive to the basket. 

Along with at times underachieving star Karl Anthony Towns, defensive specialist Rudy Gobert, solid performer Jaden McDaniels and steady point guard Mike Conley, the Timberwolves surge when local folk hero Naz Reid enters the game.

Reid, unchosen in the NBA draft when he left LSU, received the league's sixth man award this year. He came off the bench Sunday night to spark the Timberwolves' fourth quarter rally, scoring 11 points and harassing NBA MVP Nikola Jokic. 

Tattoos of Reid's name are popular among Timberwolves fans, according to a recent Wall Street Journal article.

I'd love to see an NBA finals between the Timberwolves and the Indiana Pacers, who beat the New York Knicks Sunday to advance to the Eastern Conference finals against the Boston Celtics.

That would set up a battle between Edwards and the Pacers' incandescent young star, Tyrese Haliburton. Gobert, Towns and Reid would square off inside against the Pacers' Pascal Siakam and Myles Turner.

Oh no, I'm captivated by the NBA.

 

 

      
 

Atlanta rises above 500,000 in population

Atlanta has surpassed 500,000 in population, a long elusive landmark.

The city added 12,000 new residents between 2002 and 2003, reaching a population of 510,800 in July of last year, according to new census figures reported by The Atlanta Journal-Constitution.

After years of hemorrhaging population, Atlanta has gained residents in the last decade, reaching an all-time high. Even in its years of growth following World War II, Atlanta never broke the 500,000 threshold.

 The city briefly exceeded 500,000 in 2019, but those numbers declined in the 2020 census, the AJC said

Metro Atlanta is now the sixth largest in the nation, outranking Philadelphia and Washington, D.C., according to recent figures. The metro population is projected to reach 7.9 million by 2050, in increase of 1.8 million over the 2020 census total.

While the city and outer regions of the metro area grow, the once booming North Fulton corridor of Sandy Springs, Johns Creek and Roswell surprisingly lost a little over 1 percent of their populations, the latest figures show.  Alpharetta, Stonecrest and Dunwoody suffered smaller falloffs.

The figures revealed that people are moving to the "exurbs" farther out from the city, while fleeing the close-in suburbs. Cumming, about 40 miles from the city of Atlanta, increased its population by 23 percent from 2022 to 2023.

Those puzzling findings indicate that while more people enjoy the convenience, cultural offerings and job opportunities of the inner city, others are attracted by the exurbs' lower costs. Businesses are also moving father out.

After years of attracting new residents and businesses, Sandy Springs and other close-in suburbs feel the downside of growth, higher housing prices, rising traffic and falling populations.

The suburbs that once derided the inner city now decline as Atlanta rises.

 

 

 

 

 

Washington Post critic Michael Dirda's "An Open Book" a Proustian memoir

Michael Dirda when growing up often had his nose in a book, upsetting his steel-mill worker father, Michael Dirda Sr.

Dirda's blue-collar upbringing in industrial Lorain, Ohio, gave him little preparation for a literary career, as recounted in his engaging 2003 memoir "An Open Book: Coming of Age in the Heartland."

In its wealth of details and memorable characters, Dirda's book recalls "In Search of Lost Time" by Marcel Proust, one of the many writers he mentions along the way. He also loved as a child paperback adventure stories, fantasy and science fiction and comic books, along with 1950s-era TV westerns.

The Washington Post's acclaimed book critic, who won the 1993 Pulitzer Prize, recalls a childhood marred by his father's anger and sense of failure and bolstered by his mother's stoic devotion to her son and his three younger sisters.

Dirda recalls his painful relationship with his father with a mixture of regret, compassion and sad humor.

Exacerbating his irritation at Dirda's bookishness, his father erupted in anger at his son when he enlisted his help on ambitious home construction projects that often went awry. A benevolent uncle, his mother's brother, often was enlisted to salvage the disastrous work.

Along with his abusive behavior, Dirda's father displays moments of rough love for his son, including frequent trips to the public library and dispensing folksy advice.

Dirda's Slovakian mother, Christine Burkl Dirda, is portrayed as an exuberant personality who showers her children with affection along with strict discipline. She holds on to her positive spirit, countering her husband's dark moods.

The introverted, nearsighted and unathletic Dirda feels isolated from Lorain, an ethnically diverse industrial city on Lake Erie near Cleveland.

Yet he also expresses affection for Lorain's parks, colorful characters and interesting stores and shopping centers, sharing his mother's pleasure at finding bargains. Dirda also fondly remembers visits to his family's many relatives of eastern European descent.

In contrast to more privileged intellectuals, Dirda eventually worked in hazardous jobs at his father's plant and as a construction worker installing aluminum siding.

Despite his love for reading, Dirda struggles academically until the end of high school. Eventually, he enjoys teen adventures with a close circle of friends and begins to excel in the classroom under the guidance of inspiring teachers.

Accepted to Oberlin College, a progressive liberal arts school near his home, Dirda slowly discovers his literary calling.

After initially struggling with Oberlin's demanding academic regimen, he at his father's life-changing encouragement studies harder and excels. He also finds his first serious girlfriend, a young woman from Nashville, Tenn.

Vietnam protests stir the campus, although Dirda mainly stays on sidelines He's more devoted to literature and classical music.

Dirda finds the model for his literary career when he meets the writer and translator Robert Phelps on his first visit to New York City before an expansive trip to Europe in the revolutionary summer of 1968.

Phelps, the father of one of Dirda's roommates, gives Dirda a decisive glimpse of the bookish life, inviting him to his crammed Greenwich Village study, where Dirda enjoys martinis and sees his first page proofs.

The book closes with Dirda's Oberlin-sponsored trip to idyllic Aix en Provence and Paris, still smoldering from the revolutionary turmoil of May, 1968.

Dirda also enjoys a passionate romantic encounter with a young women he meets at the opera. They take a hitch-hiking trip to Florence, then say farewell forever.

Exciting moments in Aix and Paris glow in his memory, yet Lorain and his childhood shine brighter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Alice Munro's short story mastery casts light on genre's recent decline

Alice Munro stood at the forefront of the short story renaissance in the late 20th century.

Munro, who died at age 92 Monday at her home in Point Hope, Ontario, devoted herself to short stories in her nearly 50 year career that began in 1968.

Never publishing a novel, Munro won the Nobel Prize in 2013, honored for bringing new depth and psychological complexity to the short story format.

Along with Raymond Carver, John Cheever and Ann Beattie, she revived the popularity of short stories after years of the genre's declining readership.

While short stories flourish in literary journals and short story collections are still published, the genre again appears to be declining as a major literary form. The New Yorker and Harper's are the only mainstream magazines that still publish short stories.

Lorrie Moore, who wrote an appreciation of Munro's career published on the Atlantic's web site, is one of the few contemporary writers who've found widespread success with short story collections. In recent years, Moore's turned her attention to novels and critical essays.

Munro's popularity as a short story writer seems unlikely to be repeated.

 

 

Pianist Garrick Ohlsson, Atlanta Symphony Orchestra reach Rachmaninoff fusion

Piano concertos can turn unbalanced, with the master musician's showy runs overwhelming the orchestra.

Avoiding that discord, master pianist Garrick Ohlsson and the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra achieved a stirring symmetry Saturday night in a well-calibrated performance of Sergei Rachmaninoff's demanding Piano Concerto No. 3.

As Ohlsson thrilled the nearly full audience with rousing power chords contrasting with delicate melodic reveries, the ASO met the challenge of the Russian composer's protean score.

Spurred by the return of conductor Robert Spano, the ASO rose to the heights of Ohlsson's majestic stylings, a blending of voices that transplanted jazz's call and response harmonies to classical themes.

After the thunder and lightning of Rachmaninoff, Ohlsson gave the crowd the perfect nightcap: a solo performance of a Chopin etude.

Ohlsson, one of the world's leading interpreters of Chopin, brought Paris' springtime to Atlanta.