Biography
Christopher Michael Erskine has been both graphics editor and a columnist since 1998.
Starting as a copy editor on The Times' national desk ...
Some other notable sports statues in Southland
October 23, 2012
Some of the other notable sports statues around Southern California:
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Sculptor 'tries to catch the essence of Coach' John Wooden
October 23, 2012
John Wooden is back. Not soon enough, in this me-first, Black Mamba world riddled with ego and hubris. Wooden's glory grows with each passing year, and every time Jonathan Vilma appeals his NFL case, or Lance Armstrong insists it's all a set-up. With Vince Lombardi, Wooden is the symbol of "old school" values. His simple virtues, his stubbornness, his bone-deep integrity are needed now more than ever.
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Man About Town: Carving out autumn bliss in a pumpkin patch
October 20, 2012
Largely free of the manure odors that kept me from a life in agriculture, Faulkner Farm puts on quite a pumpkin patch, replete with red barns, hayrides, a pumpkin catapult, corn mazes and, best of all, a fine tri-tip sandwich, the only thing really keeping me in California anymore.
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At Santa Anita, Tommy Halpenny's shoe-manship benefits racehorses
October 10, 2012
With a bear-trap handshake and Lucky Charms smile, "Irish" Tommy Halpenny works the stables at Santa Anita like a country doctor.
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Man About Town: American perfection: Autumn in a Midwestern college town
October 6, 2012
Prediction: I will one day be decapiated by a small woman (probably my own wife) with a giant carry-on who, in trying to stuff a ridiculously oversized piece of furniture into an overhead Delta bin, drops it on my noggin as I sit in my aisle seat, thumbing an airline magazine selling self-replenishing dog bowls and thinking, "I really ought to get one of those and — WHAM, BAM.
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'Mormon' fails to make a convert
September 29, 2012
I'd wanted to take an actual Mormon to see "The Book of Mormon," but the closest I could come was the lovely and patient older daughter — so well scrubbed and shimmery that she looked like an Irish coin.
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USC and UCLA as one big, happy family
September 26, 2012
So I'm stuck at a light at Jefferson and Hoover, waiting for some freshman in a Bavarian sedan to finish texting all her boyfriends, when the idea hits me: USC merges with UCLA, into one mega-university. One great school, the envy of the world. One phenomenal football team, in blue, cardinal and actual gold.
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Man About Town: Rough and humble on the Angeles Crest Highway
September 22, 2012
This isn't a road, it's a Reggie Bush run from scrimmage. It zigs. It zags. Your belly begins to bark. Kidneys become spleens.
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Jim Mora's drumbeat and UCLA football fans' landscape of change
September 19, 2012
So, here I am back at the Rose Bowl, when the sweaty mutant fan-blob in the seat next to me leans over and starts talking into my hair as if we're on a fifth date — something about Jerry Rice Jr. — and I'm thinking, 'Where did such a promising life go so wrong?' (Mine, not his).
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Steve Sabol helped turn NFL Films into a Super Bowl champion
September 18, 2012
With Steve Sabol as lensman, editor and resident poet, NFL Films didn't just capture pro football's blood-stained quirks and foggy breath, it established an aura you could see and feel.
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Man About Town: L.A. County Fair so bad for you it's good
September 15, 2012
First, let us consider the beauty that is a deep-fried Snickers:
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Fantasy football, where I'm living a life of illusion
September 13, 2012
Just shoot me the next time I decide to run two fantasy football leagues simultaneously. Keep in mind that Roger Goodell runs just one league, the NFL, and what a disaster that thing is. No one watches. They don't even have real refs.
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America's eyes and ears, and funnybone: Chris Erskine
September 8, 2012
Sometimes what I think the Pulitzer committee is after, humor-wise, isn't just one epic exposé, as per last week's gem on rotten-tomato fights. It's a body of hard-hitting work.
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Title IX has benefited anyone who loves sports
September 3, 2012
You can't love kids and not love Title IX.
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Man About Town: Amid the attack of the killer tomatoes
September 1, 2012
In search of something transformational in these troubled times, we're headed down to a food fight at Irvine Lake, something legitimate, fully sanctioned, with rows of port-o-potties lined up like sentries at a royal garden. Have you noticed that, of all the people at the Los Angeles Times, I get the most assignments involving port-o-potties?
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L.A. sports star power rankings
August 24, 2012
1. Kobe Bryant, Lakers: An easy No. 1 based on his Lakers reign and strength of personality.
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L.A. boasts unmatched lineup of athletic star power
August 23, 2012
Who knows the exact reason — probably the combination of sun, surf, access to a media juggernaut and world-class pedicures — but in the last few months, Southern California has managed to assemble the finest collection of athletic star power the world has ever seen.
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River kayaking: L.A.'s best-kept secret?
August 17, 2012
I've always liked slow-moving rivers — mirrors to moonlight and literature, our first and best interstates, running over rocks, as Norman Maclean so deftly put it, "from the basement of time."
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Man About Town: L.A. Racing school makes him take stock
August 11, 2012
You're talking about someone who death-grips his martini. You're talking about someone who double-clutches during teeth cleanings.
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Man About Town: Catching summer by a crawfish tail
August 4, 2012
The summer — as do all summers — has blown by, the days growing shorter as they grow ever sweeter.
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Man About Town: Gliding along on a stand-up paddleboard
July 28, 2012
Admittedly, I am in the 50th percentile of everything — looks, intelligence, sex appeal, strength. My core muscle group is mostly pudding. I have the muscle tone of $1.99-a-pound sirloin.
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Man About Town: The sand castle sorcerer's apprentice
July 14, 2012
Like Charlie Sheen, I have no explanation for the things I do lately, other than they are on a whim and keep you guessing.
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Man About Town: Buck Rogers! In the 21st ... yikes
July 7, 2012
This is either the most thrilling thing I've ever done or the world's most effective colonic. Maybe both.
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Man About Town: A father's special, splashy day
June 16, 2012
Erma Bombeck, who had a pretty good way with words, once noted of her father:
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Man About Town: A few heroic leaps at an 'Avengers' matinee
May 12, 2012
"The Avengers," as you may have heard, is the biggest thing to happen to America since World War II but, you know, louder and more troubling. At the end of the matinee I witnessed, audience members actually cheered, believing what they'd just seen was some sort of documentary. Manhattan had been saved, which is almost always a cause for celebration, though I met this one New Yorker the other day at the rent-a-car place: swaggery young Italian guy, you know the type.
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Man About Town: At Hollywood Park, playing the ponies is family fun
May 5, 2012
With a caffeine headache and 60 bucks in my britches, I head out to the pony rides on a Friday night — to glittery, improbable Hollywood Park, now officially Betfair Hollywood Park.
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Man About Town: Giving Hunger Games Training a shot in West L.A.
April 21, 2012
I'm behind a Honda Element with three bullet holes across the back. You guessed it — West L.A., specifically that gritty stretch near the Overland exit. No, I don't know for sure that they are real bullet holes. But in this end of town, I just assume everything I see is authentic.
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Man About Town: Drinking in Swallow's Inn in San Juan Capistrano
April 14, 2012
I'm on my way down to lower Orange County in our old minivan, the Honey Fitz. It's bleeding power steering fluid, but other than that the Honey Fitz is charging out of the barn, three of the four cylinders firing in sequence, the other a virtual wooden leg.
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Chris Erskine: Goodbye to a mom who was quite right
March 31, 2012
The thing about my mother's eulogy is that I used note cards. After 55 years, you'd think you could remember a mother without such prompts. But this was no regular mother. Tell me, are there any regular mothers?
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Man About Town: City of Angels, that's no angel above
March 17, 2012
Here I go again, cooling the flames of anger through self-discovery. This time, I am piloting a little plane that's not much bigger than a sofa bed, L.A. winking up at me, as if to say, "You're really doing this?"
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Man About Town: Lucha VaVoom draws this man out of the house
March 10, 2012
First of all, it's very loud. Loud enough to trigger menopause in mice. And the audience has this look, the same facial cha-cha you see in the third period of epic hockey games, when the fans' eyes start to suds up from too much beer.
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Music to my ears: Not!
November 26, 2011
A freak for fitness, I decided the other day to concentrate on what trainers call the "core muscle groups," the very struts of the human body. In my case, the core muscles are the tongue and the schnitzel. The schnitzel is unfamiliar to many folks, but it's a sister muscle to the hamstring. Twisty like ship rope, the schnitzel runs from the back of the tongue to a spot just under my computer desk. I'm typing with it now, in fact.
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Chris Erskine: AYSO ceremony is OK for openers
September 19, 2009
There's a cricket in the kitchen. Chirps all night long, like he's trying to sell me something.
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Captain Erskine turns to a trusty parrot
September 5, 2009
The little boy with the Creamsicle hair is beginning the first grade. He'll be in Room 15, the note from the teacher advises a few days in advance.
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L.A. in all its quirky glory on display at Santa Monica Pier
August 26, 2009
Santa Monica Pier juts out into the Pacific like Jay Leno's jaw, a defiant, whimsical and improbable landing pad. Just 100 feet below, sharks are at play, scarfing the occasional hot dog and Coke cup that plop into their Sunday soup. Up on deck, L.A. is at play too. Here, on SoCal's splendid splinter.
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Chris Erskine: Graduation night
June 20, 2009
This is the quirkiness we will miss, one of the oddities that will leave life a little empty after our teenager jets off to college in August, miserable August, only two months away.
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Baring his soul . . . and more
June 6, 2009
Keeping a relationship alive these days isn't easy. So, in an effort to demonstrate my commitment, I just sexted my wife of 27 years -- that is, I have sent her a revealing photo taken with my cellphone.
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London revisited: The daughter's side of the story
May 16, 2009
So here's what happens. My dad asks if I want to go to London with him, and I say, "Sure, chap, totally," and before I know it, I'm walking down this London street, Gloucester, which is pronounced Glowster for some reason. Like my dad, this whole country has a bad case of the mumbles.
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Conquering London, not-so little daughter in tow
May 9, 2009
A wonderful thing, a daughter. It's what the creator gave me instead of a way with money or a firm jaw line. I have two daughters, the oldest of whom is accompanying me to London for a week of work. She is lovely. She is patient. She is . . . gasp . . . 25?
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The glove is off
May 2, 2009
We pull off to the school drop-off. A kid gets out, and here's what comes pouring out of our family car:
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Chicago: The Windy, Meaty City
April 25, 2009
We are creeping along the Chicago expressway when I decide it is time to merge into the right lane. For some reason, none of the other drivers is letting me in. I do all the things I usually do when I merge. The blinker is bleating -- hiccup, hiccup -- and Posh is hanging out the passenger window to her waist, licking her lips and smiling demurely. In L.A., this works 10 out of 10 times.
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How 'bout that Midwestern spirit?
April 18, 2009
Our tour of Midwestern universities gets off to an excellent start when -- I think it was at Purdue -- the little girl inquires as to whether they have "you know, a high-end spa here?" Then one night in Chicago, I have a cheeseburger so huge that I will be working it off forever. It is lodged next to my gallbladder like some new internal organ. No, doc, that's not a lump. That's just last week's lunch.
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Good eggs, cracks and all
April 11, 2009
Posh is telling me how she knows someone who knows someone with "a farm in mid-state," where if you give the woman empty egg cartons, she'll fill them with fresh eggs for free.
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Debutantes on parade, a.k.a. the dad-daughter waltz night
April 4, 2009
In our last installment, we were renting tuxedos and learning to waltz, fun stuff only if you're one of those country club stiffs who's dead from the neck up. Me, I'd rather be stapled to a ping-pong table and attacked by geese than attend a black-tie dinner. I'd rather drown in pudding.
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Suit up, Dad, time to waltz Tuxedos and naked truths
March 28, 2009
Should've bagged the whole thing when they told me I'd have to waltz. Who waltzes anymore? Prussian diplomats? Is there even a Prussia anymore? No, because while everyone was waltzing, mean dudes with muskets were coming over the parapets.
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A full plate of banquets and dinners
March 14, 2009
I sit next to this amazing woman at the school fundraising dinner. Turns out I know her a little. We were married 26 years ago. To this day I can remember how her hair smelled in church that day -- like shamrocks over very good pasta.
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Dinner party makes for a big night out
March 7, 2009
So we go off to a little dinner party, barely speaking to each other, my wife and I. Not sure what sparked the silent treatment. Might've been when I flippantly offered to give her driving lessons. Sometimes, I can be such an . . .
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Hearing loss has its advantages at home
February 28, 2009
I'm pretty much deaf now. The male ear can withstand only so many gripes, accusations, hissy fits and requests for cash before the eardrum itself -- like a tiny silk pizza -- just implodes on itself.
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My (family's) funny Valentine's Day
February 21, 2009
Exhausted from Valentine's Day, my dad is taking a little time off from his column, leaving me to write the silly thing on my iPhone while waiting at stoplights and stuff. Yeah, I know that's totally illegal. Go ahead, arrest me.
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Las Vegas is one long happy hour
February 7, 2009
I love martinis. I average about two a year, usually here in Las Vegas, where they are known to spawn. A cold glass of beer is a splendid sight, and a glass of Chardonnay has a lovely sort of moon glow. But a martini comes with that great stiletto heel.
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Where babies come from: Vegas
January 31, 2009
It's early on a wintry Saturday morning, gray as an undertaker's chin, and I'm trying to steal an extra hour of precious rest. I tore my schnitzel playing touch football last weekend and I need to nurse the injury as long as I possibly can. In fact, they were asking about it after church the other day.
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Frankly speaking on the college essay
January 24, 2009
Subject: The most-ultimate college entrance essay ever
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A burning desire for turkey wings
January 17, 2009
I'm talking to my buddy Irv about women -- of which I know precious little -- and I confess upfront that I refuse to chase her anymore.
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Date night at the movies
January 10, 2009
If they ever give an Academy Award to the best moviegoer of the year, I would have to be a nominee. No one enters a packed theater with more flair (or more popcorn).
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A holiday night's dream? Well, mostly
January 3, 2009
A few final thoughts about the holidays, and then we'll move on.
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A Christmas wish: Get back to basics
December 20, 2008
It's not even Christmas yet, and I've already gained 5 pounds, most of it on my face (see dotted sketch). Five pounds doesn't sound like a lot, unless it's all in your jowls. Besides, I have been gaining 5 pounds every Christmas for about 20 years now, which adds up to 100 pounds in my face alone. Christmas in your face. Is there any other way?
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What do you do with a growing hamster family? Give them away
December 13, 2008
We are wealthy with hamsters. Some families have no hamsters at all (which must leave a real hole in your heart). We have nine hamsters. Let me explain.
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It's a yard sale economy
December 6, 2008
Every household should have its own economic stimulus package. In our case, it's a yard sale -- the ultimate in recycling.
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White House dog? Here's the perfect candidate
November 15, 2008
GM is turning into a 99 Cents Only Store. Circuit City outlets are disappearing faster than Carmen Electra's career. Yet, all anyone can talk about is what kind of dog Malia and Sasha should have once they get to the White House. Let's settle this right here. I nominate our sweet little beagle, Cujo, for the role. Cujo seconds the motion.
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California dreaming in November
November 8, 2008
Nice time for a drive, November. Welcome back the breezes and the sweatered weathercasters promising a slight chance of rain. Breathe deep the oak fire from up the block or the fine damp smells we haven't had in six or eight months. After six months of relentless sun, the clouds are a satisfying change. They alter the light in the living room and the gray-green of the olive trees out back.
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Under Friday night lights, reeling in the years and relishing the suburban life
November 1, 2008
We're sitting in a heap of people, right in the middle of the bleachers, under the Friday night lights. Generally, I don't like being in a heap of people. But this is special -- homecoming -- and I am surrounded by some of the nicest people I know.
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The full brood is back -- and the pecking order's clear
October 25, 2008
We're at that important juncture on a Sunday morning, where if we can get our dog, Cujo, to close his red-rimmed eyes, we might sneak in an extra hour of sleep. I just want to roll over and not have to think about how to pay for Christmas.
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So little money, so much you can do
October 18, 2008
I'M NOT sure what everyone means by "hunkering down," though I suspect there's no nudity involved. Hunkering down sounds sort of appealing, though. Like something you'd do in slippers and an old sweat shirt. And pants, of course. Never forget the pants.
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Fall's soccer ritual kicks in
September 20, 2008
SO HERE I AM,O HERE I AM, in my 17th season of AYSO, the Joe Paterno of youth soccer. I am like one of those guys who marries the same woman three times, not realizing my mistake, thinking this go-around will somehow be different. "Do you, Coach, take this team to drive you completely bonkers for the next three months, till death do you part?"
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The little guy's first day of kindergarten
September 6, 2008
SO WE SAY O WE SAY an Ave Maria and send the little guy off to school for the very first time. Kindergarten . . . the bunny lair of lower education.
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What's a family beach trip without text messaging?
July 10, 2008
We're trying to steal some family time in this increasingly busy and beepy world -- a world that has become electronic almost to a fault, human connections going, going, gone . . .
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The new Mayberry?
July 3, 2008
I'm only happy if I'm shopping. Wait, that's a slight exaggeration. I'm only happy when I'm not shopping. The last time I was in the Glendale Galleria, Abe Lincoln was off to see a show.
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Baseball, booze and a send-off
June 26, 2008
SO THE Blue Jay Sluggers cap their undefeated season -- no wins, no losses, 14 ties -- with a party in the park. It's a lavish display befitting today's modern athlete: food, gifts and groupies (in this case, the boys' moms).
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The prom dates are here
June 5, 2008
I love love. It's so full of hope. So full of little chocolate sprinkles.
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Grandma's come to visit
May 22, 2008
GRANDMA arrived the other day, with a suitcase the size of a Frigidaire. Took two grown men and a forklift to move it from the car to our guest quarters, which doubles as the little guy's bedroom. Come visit us and you're likely to have Spider-Man sheets and a stuffed raccoon as a bunkmate. Make your summer reservations now.
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Why we don't let him do reviews
March 6, 2008
Finally caught up to "Juno," the supposedly sensational little flick about teen angst.
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It's no shock when vacations head south
June 7, 2007
IT finally occurs to me, after 25 years, that I married Amelia Earhart. Hey, everybody, call off the search. She's right here, in the passenger seat next to me, trying to read a road map that she's holding upside down.
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Truly, it's a funny, knock-knock world
May 31, 2007
NEXT time you have a moment, ask yourself this: How much honesty does my life have? Is my work mostly truthful and rewarding? In my personal life, can I level with my friends? Do my kids think I'm a fraud?
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She's sweet 16 and smart as a whip. Ouch.
May 24, 2007
SHE TURNED 16 the other day, and I can hardly spit out the words. Sixteen. As in 16 candles. As in sweet (and sour) 16. As in the .416 (or so) batting average she racked up for her school softball team. As in the 16 bucks I gave her for the movies. As in the 16 times I told her to clean her room, damn it. Or else.
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A red-eye flight gets even redder
October 6, 2005
I CONSIDER AN autumn trip back to the Midwest a success as long as I don't get picked off by hunters. Now, I am being tested like never before, taking a red-eye flight to Chicago with just the toddler — a leprechaun with his mother's eyes and licorice on his breath. The smart money is on the leprechaun.
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Yard work? Sure, after his nap
March 24, 2005
The social contract that I've established with this toddler is that he follows me wherever I go and behaves exactly the way I behave. If I sneeze explosively, as dads often do, he is to sneeze the same way. If I wink at the cashier at the garden center, he is to wink as well. He's not so much my mirror image as a walking, talking mulligan. A human do-over. We waddle off on a Saturday morning like two ducks headed for a pond.
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A little church, a little chili
December 30, 2004
The full moon is coming up over the mountains like a big bowl of milk, and friends and neighbors are all entering church for Christmas Eve services. As the baby sits on my lap, I try to re-crease his cotton collar with my thumb and forefinger. Lots of luck.
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Brotherhood of the backyard
July 29, 2004
I enter the backyard like the Cat in the Hat, hairy legged and bent on mischief. I carry a tray full of steaks and a pair of tongs longer than your arm. There is a splotch of what looks like dragon's blood on my shirt. It's marinade. Why? Because it makes me taste better.
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A summer place
July 8, 2004
"MOM? Mom? Mom-mom-mom-mom-mom … "