Every year, August lashes out in volcanic fury, rising with the din of morning traffic, its great metallic wings smashing against the ground, heating the air with ever-increasing intensity.

August in sub-Saharan Los Angeles is one of the great and awful tests of one's endurance, sanity and stamina.

August, the summer's last messenger of misery, is a hollow actor.

My first visit to West Berlin was in February 1983. The drive through East Berlin, the fact that West Berlin was surrounded by a wall that was more than 100 miles long - the absurdity and intensity of it really knocked me out.

It would be incomplete for the city's proposal to deal with air congestion and not traffic congestion on the ground, ... That's why this proposal, which we hope will generate much public comment, also addresses the problem on streets in and around O'Hare.

August brings into sharp focus and a furious boil everything I've been listening to in the late spring and summer.