• Sitting Down in the Deep End

    It was an oppressively cold day in New York. The wind—that awful, sharp wind that whips between the skyscrapers like it was shot out of a gun—was particularly icy. I was huddled between my girlfriend and a posse of union organizers. By nightfall over 14 million people would have…

  • A Predator's Guide to Breaking Up

    A sawdust joint is an end-of-the line kind of gambling parlor. It's a place without frills and pretension.This column will be about gambling and gamblers; about regular people who play games for money. Most won't be geniuses or savants. Some will win a little money. Many will los…