Rock legend speaks at local lecture series
Wearing his trademark bandana, Steven Van Zandt spoke to 1,500 people at Stambaugh Auditorium as part of Youngstown State's Centofanti Symposium.
Van Zandt is one of the original members of Bruce Springsteen's E Street Band but he began his talk with how he became a political activist.
'And we were taught, of course, that America was doing the right thing worldwide — always. And then reading books, I realized that was not exactly the case. We were occasionally on the wrong side of a few things and that really bothered me,' he said.
After Van Zandt was greeted with a standing ovation he remarked that he has to get to Youngstown more often. He also commented on the beauty of Stambaugh Auditorium.
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Los Angeles Times
3 days ago
- Los Angeles Times
Nic Novicki's life looking up at the world helped him reach new heights in comedy
Nearly two decades ago, Nic Novicki was another young comedian living in Queens, testing his mettle in the competitive New York City comedy scene. There, he shared not just an apartment, but a living room separated by a sheet with another up-and-comer trying to make a name for himself: Nate Bargatze. They shared an apartment with fellow comedians Dustin Chafin and Rich Aronovitch. Fast forward 20 years, and Bargatze is one of the most popular comedians around, selling out arenas across the country. And, he hasn't forgotten his old friend. Novicki frequently tours with him, bringing those humble beginnings to larger audiences than they ever imagined, including taking their act to the high seas on the Nateland cruise this February. 'We would perform shows together every night, and then I would stay with them when I would go back to New York [from L.A.],' Novicki tells The Times over Zoom. 'It started with five people at a show in New York, and then clubs, and suddenly, things got bigger and bigger. It's been one of my biggest thrills to step out on stage and see that many people.' As a little person standing 3 feet 10, Novicki has a unique perspective from a physical and emotional standpoint, which he brings to his comedy. Some of his most rewarding projects have involved his work with Easterseals, the nation's largest disability services organization. With them, he's organized the Disability Film Challenge, which launched nearly 13 years ago. It's an annual five-day filmmaking competition where people with disabilities are either in front of or behind the camera, and make a film related to a specific genre — this year, for example, the theme was thriller and suspense. 'I created this film competition 12 years ago because I was always making my own content,' he says. 'The story of my life has been, as a comedian, to get up on stage and do as much as you can rather than wait for the industry to come to me.' In addition to comedic endeavors, Novicki has made a name for himself as an actor. He was a regular on the HBO series 'Boardwalk Empire' and appeared on 'The Sopranos,' 'Loudermilk,' 'The Neighbors' and 'Drop Dead Diva.' We spoke with the Culver City-based comedian ahead of his slot at the Burbank Comedy Festival next week, where he breaks down his stand-up routine, opening for Nate and his perspective on comedy as a little person, as well as why the work he's done with Easterseals has been so imperative. Do you have a different approach when you're performing in front of thousands at an arena show with Nate versus a club show? My act is focused on storytelling. A lot of what I do is kind of story-based about my life and the interactions that have happened. Nowadays, it's with my family, and my daughters are a huge part of it. Regardless of the size of the venue. For example, if I'm doing a late-night set at the Comedy Store or another comedy club, my act stays the same. Ultimately, I'm at that stage in my life. I do the same bits, and there's no need for me to feel like I need to be edgier. The same bits will work late night or early in the day when Nate has an early show. Recently, I did a show that was really fun called BYOB — bring your own baby. Where was that and what was it like? It was at [Santa Monica comedy club] the Crow. My wife brought our baby. Ultimately, I've always been able and comfortable talking about who I am. I've always done well with kids, which was the origin [of comedy] for me. When I was 10 or 11 years old, I started doing speeches that raised money for the Little People of America. I would perform at Rotary Clubs, and I remember early on, I would be standing behind a podium, be like, 'Oh, did you guys forget the stool here? What's going on?' It would be the Invisible Man bit, and everybody laughed. I realized then that I had everybody, and they were paying attention. Even at that age, you understood showbiz. You knew how to work an audience. It's funny. I didn't think of it as a comedian, but I was doing a version of stand-up comedy. Growing up on the East Coast and being a little person, I used comedy as a way to break the ice, and also be like, 'Hey, let's be funny and lighten the situation.' When did you decide to pursue comedy as a career? I started doing stand-up comedy during my freshman year of college at Temple University in Philadelphia. I went there to study business, but I was like, 'What is this?' It's a great city for comedy, and now, in a full circle of wildness, we [Bargatze and he] are performing two shows at the Wells Fargo Center. There are these different places that I haven't been to in a long time, like Erie, Pa., where I have family. Thanks to comedy, going back there for the first time to perform in a giant arena with Nate is pretty wild. What is it about both of your comedic styles that appeals to so many? Aside from Nate being one of my best friends, he's just the best at what he does. Both of us have very similar sensibilities and senses of humor. It's been great for me because I don't have to change my style of comedy to fit with his. When I was starting, I was never dirty, but maybe I'd swear a little. I realized so much of my life is about being in the Little People of America. Little people and people with disabilities are asking me for advice about how I was able to create my own projects. Ultimately, that's the kind of comedy that I'm drawn to, and it's part of my daily life. I'm proud to be a little person. I'm proud to be who I am, and I can't hide it. It's not easy, though, to get the audience to laugh at something uncomfortable. In this case, laughing with you about your disability. I'm 3-10. So it's not like I could be not 3-10, so it's part of what my world is. My wife is little, and I've grown up in Little People of America. It's not entirely what I'm about as a comedian — I like to talk about things other than my height, but it is a part of who I am. I'm a storyteller, and the situations that happen involve my height. Whether it's dropping my daughter off at daycare … these are real-life situations that happen. Rather than be uncomfortable in the moment, I've embraced it, laughed and been OK with just having that discussion in that moment. I look at the positive and the comedy of a situation because it's something that I find funny, rather than being upset by it, like being patient and asking someone to help me press a button in an elevator. This may sound crazy, but I've met so many people by asking for help, like reaching for a plate. Now, I have a connection with this person that I wouldn't have had. As a comedian, I think you have to be open to life and what happens, and be able to comment on it. The Easterseals Disability Film Challenge is a significant source of pride for you. Now, nearly 13 years later, what do you see as its legacy? It's grown so much. Since partnering with Easterseals Southern California, we've had 850 films created from around the world. We have our awards ceremony at Sony Pictures every year. Nate has presented alongside the Farrelly brothers, Phil Lord and Chris Miller. I feel like the disability community is a community, and it's something I'm so proud to be a part of. I've made so many friends and forged lifelong bonds with both little people and through the Film Challenge. Much like my comedy career, it's been a gradual climb. It's been the long game for me, as an actor and comedian with the Film Challenge. My whole vision is to do as much as you can, and I think the world wants to see more disability representation. I do a regular show at Flappers in Burbank where I headline, and it's Nic Novicki and friends. I always have a disabled comic from the Easterseals Disability Film Challenge perform to highlight them. I love having that world where people can get themselves out there, and that was always the mission. Initially, the Disability Film Challenge was going to be a one-off competition where I helped disabled friends who asked me for advice, and allowed them to make a film and tell their own stories. After that first one, right away, casting directors started reaching out to me asking how to get in touch with a guy in a wheelchair, and all of a sudden, we had five films that first year. All of these films are starring and created by people with disabilities. It's been great to see the number of jobs that have come from this, and something I'm incredibly proud of. It's funny. I was in New York City with a group of people, and I was like, 'I know every little person in the world,' and they were like, 'Yeah, sure, sure, you do.' So we're walking on Madison Avenue, and a little person popped up out of nowhere and said, 'Hey, Nick, what's up?' I looked at them and said, 'You see?' I swear to God, it was sitcom-esque timing, but it really happened.


Los Angeles Times
3 days ago
- Los Angeles Times
Get a manicure. Sing Monty Python. Be happy. You'll drive the Trumpists crazy
As the psychiatrist Dr. Melfi says to Tony in the pilot episode of 'The Sopranos,' 'Hope comes in many forms.' I was reminded of this the other day when I found my finger glued to the hand of another woman. I had set out that morning to celebrate all the indications that the political plates of the Earth had shifted — millions of people at the No Kings marches, all the court cases that the White House keeps losing and Trump's Epstein nightmare. I wanted to immerse myself in the headway. Something's happening here. Those in charge want us to give up until the next election, but of course we are not going to, because we have children and nieces and nephews. The dark forces must be childless. They are not concerned about squeezing the life out of the Constitution, the rising oceans and the re-emergence of diseases long eradicated, because they are so bottomlessly stupid and greedy. And they are unaware of what happens when the autocracy overreaches. Every time. Think pitchforks. Tick-tock. This gives me a little hope. Hope comes in many forms: When I hear the songs of the civil rights movement at our marches, a soft gong sounds. The poet Jack Gilbert wrote, 'We must admit that there will be music despite everything.' Ever since I heard the author Caroline Myss say that when darkness and evil go nuclear, love and hope must go nuclear too, I started getting occasional manicures with glittery polish, to remind me. There was a nail salon in the first strip mall I passed. I went in. It seemed crowded, and I turned to leave. But the nearest manicurist said, 'Pick a color.' I said, 'No, no, you seem busy.' 'Pick a color!' she demanded, so I leapt to the polish station and picked a sparkly pale pink. An old woman came lumbering out from the back room toward me with a bowl of water. I dutifully fished out $25 from my purse, five of it tip, and put the fingers of one hand into the bowl of warm water. When one hand free, I scrolled through the links on my phone — the usual stuff, the government taking away health insurance from the poor and protecting American jobs by causing mass starvation around the world. The salon had grown incredibly hot. What hasn't? I smiled remembering Sen. Jim Inhofe tossing that snowball around on the Senate floor as proof that there is no global warming. God, the absurdity. Absurdity! A light bulb went on over my head in that salon. That's what we're missing. I realized that this was one solution to the cruel mess and the endless, depressing analysis. Yes, we will take to the streets at every opportunity, care for the poor and pick up litter. But we also, desperately, need to begin laughing again. And who does absurdity better than Monty Python? Monty Python says what we already know, that yes, it is all hopelessly stupid, cruel and unfair, but their making it silly delivers joy and buoyancy. We can grip our heads, fight back and laugh at it and them. And nothing agitates narcissists more than people laughing. Think of how confused our most prominent bullies get when people laugh at them. Bullies rule by fear. Humor is fearless, a bubbly form of hope. Remember the 'Upper Class Twit of the Year' award? And 'Self-Defense Against Fruit'? Aren't people in flag-draped lines voting to lose their health insurance and their basic rights reminiscent of folks queuing for crucifixion in 'Life of Brian'? The cheery, 'Line up on the left, one cross each'? Laughter and those jaunty songs break up the armor that we think protects us. When we're softened and jiggled, we're open to a shift from tight and clenched to the recognition of shared humanity, and underneath that a glimmer of shared possibility. When we don't see anything on the menu that we like, we can at least remember — as Monty Python taught us — that the Spam, egg, sausage and Spam sandwich has not got nearly as much Spam in it. I smiled, hearing the Spam song, right before my manicurist cut the skin at the base of the nail. I yelped. We both looked down at a drop of blood that was growing. She wrapped my finger in a Kleenex and pulled out a tiny tube I assumed was a styptic, and rubbed it over the cut. Then she pinched my finger between hers to stem the bleeding. After a minute, she tried to let go, which was the point at which I realized that this tube was super glue and that my finger was glued to her hand. She couldn't pry her fingers off. She started swabbing us with nail polish remover — not ideal for an open cut. I mewed like a kitten. It took a painful, burning minute to get us unglued. The bleeding was slowing down, and she stroked my hand while looking into my eyes kindly. Kindness is the antivenom. So we proceeded. I assumed that, the way things are going, I would die one day later this week of a fungal infection that went septic, but at least I would have beautiful nails, and Monty Python. I left her a second $5 tip. Hope comes in many forms: If you want to have hopeful feelings, do hopeful things. She touched her heart when she saw. Maybe I don't always remember my doctor's name, or how to spell the fuchsias that my husband grows, but I remember every word of 'The Lumberjack Song,' and of 'Every Sperm Is Sacred.' I hope we don't go crazy with the craziness around us. I can't remember a more terrifying time. I hope that we can keep centered, keep sharing what we have, help each other keep our spirits up, sing, register voters and rally, and maybe these are all we've got these days, but deep in my heart, I do believe that led with infinite dignity by the Ministry of Silly Walks, they will see us through. Anne Lamott, an author of fiction and nonfiction, lives in Marin County, Calif. Her latest book is 'Somehow: Thoughts on Love.' X: @annelamott


Eater
31-07-2025
- Eater
The Best Dishes Eater's Seattle Editor Ate in July 2025
At Eater Seattle, we have to eat out a lot — it's right there in the website name, next to 'Seattle.' Sometimes, this research shows up in the articles and maps we publish, but sometimes, we eat something so good that we have to tell everyone about it. This running monthly column is a place for us to share especially good dishes with you. Esquites at De La Soil Esquites at De La Soil. Harry Cheadle If De La Soil was on Capitol Hill, it would probably be a hot new Seattle restaurant. Instead it's tucked away inside Copperworks Distilling in Kenmore — and it should be a hot new Seattle restaurant anyway. It focuses on seasonal produce, and I know a lot of places say that, but De La sources nearly everything from a single farm up the road. The standout on my visit was this special special, a riff on Mexican street corn salad that uses charred corn as a base, a corn nut crumble for a bit of crunch, and popcorn for extra texture. It's smokey (from chipotle mayo) and sweet and cheesy, a must-order if it's still on the menu. Matcha Strawberry Cheesecake at Marjorie Matcha cheesecake at Marjorie. Harry Cheadle Marjorie reopened last year at a new Central District location and it's still a Seattle classic with some classic menu items, including a bread pudding for dessert. But on my last visit I decided to be trendy and opted for this matcha number instead. The cheesecake was creamy and thick — you really had to push your fork through it — and the matcha gave it an earthy, grassy flavor. The peak-season strawberry topping might have been too sweet and jammy on its own, but it was a terrific contrast to the decidedly not-too-sweet cake. It may be off the menu soon, if it isn't already, but pastry chef Manda Mangrai is killing it and will surely have another idea just as good. Wagyu Bavette at the Shambles Wagyu bavette at the Shambles. Harry Cheadle I'm trying to update our woefully out-of-date steak map this fall, and I can tell you right now that the Shambles is staying on it. This low-key Maple Leaf restaurant have a great selection of cuts on its chalkboard, including some good options if you're dining solo like I was. I got 5 ounces of wagyu bavette for under $40, and it was perfectly cooked, with a thick char and a bloody interior. It was served with a sage and red pepper butter that added to the richness, but I would have gladly eaten the piece of meat unadorned. Fried rice at Paju Steak and fried rice at Paju. Harry Cheadle The steak at Paju was also great, but arguably overshadowed by the dish the upscale South Lake Union restaurant has become known for: the fried rice. With bacon, squid ink, kimchi, and a smoked quail egg it's sticky, smokey, and more than a bit umami (you don't get a lot of pickly kimchi flavor). Recommending it feels a little like saying, 'You know what's a great show? The Sopranos,' since the fried rice is already one of Paju's most popular dishes (that quali egg yolk sure looks good in photos). If you're coming here, you're already getting the fried rice. But maybe you should get two? Lamb Korma Meat Pie at Little Beast Ballard The lamb korma pie at Little Beast. Harry Cheadle When I talked to Beast and Cleaver owner Kevin Smith this spring about his new meat-focused English-style pub, he said that no one in the whole state of Washington is doing English food like he wants to do it. And you might think, Really? No one is doing, like, a meat pie? Well, no one has meat pies like this. The shredded, slow-cooked lamb neck inside is beautifully tender and fatty, the pastry shell (made with beef fat) is sturdy enough to somehow contain that lamb yet still light and with traces of fat-kissed sweetness. The korma gravy adds another layer of creaminess plus a welcome dose of cumin-y spice (if you get the fries, try dipping them in it). Make yourself a meat appointment here, Little Beast is going to be a hot ticket for the rest of the year. Barbecue plate at Outsider BBQ Sides at Outsider BBQ. Paolo Biccheiri Onur Gulbay's Texas-style barbecue with Turkish-stye sides has settled into its new permanent Frelard beer garden space. The sumac-topped potato salad is a refreshing treat in the summer sun. The corn casserole is an ideal not-too-sweet carby backbone to a pound of prime brisket or pulled pork. Spicy pickled vegetables provide a bit of heat, a pleasant and needed textural balance to the soft give of the bread and meat. Even the bread pudding is an inventive riff on the timeless dessert, an ice cream scoop-looking orb of Nilla Wafers and cream sitting pretty in a to-go brown tray. Consider this is a reminder to spend an afternoon with a cool drink in hand and a heap of smoked loveliness in front of you before the sun's all gone. –Paolo Bicchieri Eater Seattle All your essential food and restaurant intel delivered to you Email (required) Sign Up By submitting your email, you agree to our Terms and Privacy Notice . This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.