This is no time for the usual, rambling lead. I’ll get right to it. After more than 40 years at this venerable institution, this historic brick landmark on Grand Boulevard, I’ll be leaving in a few days. I’m shuffling off to Brookside, where I’ll be writing a book, launching into other projects and otherwise beginning the next chapter.
The city grows and remakes itself block by block. Sometimes it’s easy. More often it’s hard. The way anything gets done these days — well, democracy is a messy game. Another give-and-take encounter is unfolding in the environs of the Country Club Plaza.
He had silver hair, a sculpted face and a strong grip, and he hugged me as if I were an old friend. Jesus Cordoba was about 87 when I traveled to Wichita to meet him in 2012. I was lucky to have had the chance to spend a brief visit with the man one can confidently describe as the most famous male matador from Kansas.
By the time you read this I expect to be in the midst of a lost weekend. Yes, I suffer from an uncontrollable addiction — to music — a condition that has been exacerbated by the annual arrival of a tribe of folk musicians. So I will thank the organizers for providing an immersive break from that other tribal ritual consuming so much air space these days — the presidential campaign.
From where he was sitting, in the Filling Station coffee shop, Peter Cassel had a clear view of a residential boomlet occurring in midtown Kansas City. A mix of recent vintage apartment buildings, the renovated Greenlease Cadillac lofts and a new block of units under construction on Gillham Road are forming a prominent bastion of density along the eastern edge of the Union Hill neighborhood.
Maybe she’d been listening, or maybe she was blinded by her own foregone conclusion. But an hourlong presentation on the relative drawbacks of a major renovation of Kansas City International Airport did not move the needle for City Council member Teresa Loar. She just couldn’t get her brain around the thing she didn’t want to hear.
If the GOP race for president hadn’t already seemed like a freak show, along came Sarah Palin. And if you didn’t already question Donald Trump’s judgment, let alone the supercharged emptiness of his rhetorical campaign, then you now have a new reason to wonder how inept and unpredictable his presidency would be.
Historic preservation scored one victory on Thursday and one loss. But credit goes to the three-year waiting period that developers can face when they hope to demolish important properties in Kansas City
It’s a columnist’s folly to peer ahead with any certainty. I’m relatively new to the task, but my wild predictions in this wholly unpredictable climate seem to make as much sense — or nonsense — as anyone else’s.
The long knives of conservative punditry have been hard at work lately. Their target: Donald Trump. Yes, the GOP’s leading presidential candidate, the Republicans’ embarrassing gift to political discourse, has scared the establishment enough to start a stampede of angry elephants carrying sharp blades.
Let’s imagine for a moment that the fat guy in a red suit were still making the rounds and penciling in his itinerary for this week’s annual miracle. I can think of one or two things I’d put on Kansas City’s wish list.
Steve McDowell looked like a man under siege. When I saw him at an event Tuesday night, he was reeling a bit, partly from a bug he’d picked up on an overseas trip, partly from the news he’d just received that a referendum petition drive could very well torpedo a deal to build a new headquarters for his architecture firm, BNIM.
Steve Paul writes: Last Sunday night, everybody knew, when Lorenzo Cain walked in the top of the ninth inning in Game 5 of the World Series, that the Kansas City Royals would return home with the trophy. And nobody knew what sight we would behold on Tuesday when a joyous mass of humanity painted the streets of Kansas City blue.