This is MORNING EDITION from NPR News. I'm Renee Montagne.
DAVID GREENE, host:
And I'm David Greene.
Nervous investors - and these days that's most investors - were all ears this morning as Federal Reserve Chairman Ben Bernanke delivered a speech in Wyoming. The investors were listening for any clues about additional steps the Fed might take to shore up the sagging economy. Bernanke did not outline any big rescue plans, but he did say the Fed has tools it can use if necessary.
Yes, it was Albert Einstein who unified space and time together into a single, coherent whole. As a physicist I can say that was a pretty impressive feat, but as parent — slogging across interstate whatever on the last weekend of the summer — I have to ask: What's the big deal?
Anyone stuck in vacation traffic with kids in tow can tell you that Space and Time have always been unified but not in the wiggly, abstract sense my buddy Al Einstein was talking about.
Originally published on Fri August 26, 2011 10:41 am
DAVID GREENE, host:
Good morning, I'm David Greene. Two clowns walked into a Colorado jewelry store this week, guns blazing. The men wore white face paint, black lipstick and wigs. They pointed guns at employees and forced the owner to unlock his jewelry cases. The clown duo made off with the loot. But the joke was on them, Sonny's Rocks Jewelry Store in Denver does not display real jewelry. The display cases are full of fake gold and platinum, which is exactly what ended up in the clown's garbage bags.
Audio Only: James Vincent McMorrow's Tiny Desk Concert
Irish singer-songwriter James Vincent McMorrow has one of the most arresting voices of any young singer you're likely to hear this year: He's got the heartbreaking falsetto of a Justin Vernon (Bon Iver) and the raspy soul of a Ray LaMontagne, in a way that sounds both fragile and grand.
Originally published on Mon August 29, 2011 6:38 pm
In 1995, when I was a sophomore in high school, an older, popular boy came out of the closet. He was taunted daily until he dropped out. I never saw him again.
Months later, a decidedly unpopular, more flamboyant boy was beaten in the schoolyard. I remember escorting him to the nurse's office. I remember the look of disgust on the nurse's face; I don't know whether this disgust was directed at the act of savagery, or at the bleeding boy himself, and his arm around my shoulder. I also remember thinking that soon it would be my turn, and sure enough it was.