Philly Blunt

Freelance writer. Editor and web-video producer. Former Atlantic City Press and Philadelphia Weekly staff writer, City Paper managing editor/columnist and Dougherty for Senate campaign manager. Comments welcome here or emailed to brianhickey9 [at] hotmail. Now on: Facebook (Brian Hickey, in Philly) Twitter at Flickr at Be sure to check out Hickey on Divorce Court:

21 July 2006

A.C. bound, yo

Well the weekend's here and I'm A.C. bound after work. Sadly, I won't be going to catch the Gatti/Baldomir fight. Well, maybe it's not so sad at all. This one has disaster written all over it. If Baldomir was Russian, I'd be expecting "Death from Above" headlines in Sunday's paper, and Mickey Ward to be preparing to train in Russia for his fight of vengeance. Not that Baldomir's any good. I just got a bad feeling that Gatti's one misplaced punch away from Ali. TKO, 7th.

Which brings me to the real reason why I'm heading down (aside from visiting someone I'm writing about in two weeks and trying to sneak a few hands of Hold 'Em in at Caesars): a party for A.C. Associated Press legend John Curran, who worked out of the A.C. Press office when I was down there (still does until today, actually), but is now packing up the family and moving north to Vermont. Good career move, but he'll be missed.

Can't let him go without sharing one great story: We were both working a story where a 17-year-old girl stabbed a 50-some year old dude to death in a motel right behind Resorts, stuffed his body under a bed (one of those wooden frame ones), took dude's car and bailed town. Well, over the next two nights, a German couple gets the room in which murder happened and sleep ON the bed. Finally, they complain about the stench and housekeeping finally lifts the bed up. Ta-Da! Dead body. So, what does John do to get a better sense of the story? Why, he sneaks into the hallway, grabs a sheet that's laying on the ground and, oh yeah, sniffs away. Mmm, mmm good. (My story, of course, was still better, but his lives on online).

Best of luck, Mr. Curran. You'll be missed!


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