Biography
Christopher Michael Erskine has been both graphics editor and a columnist since 1998.
Starting as a copy editor on The Times' national desk ...
Man of the House: Dad's an amateur but spiritual plumber
February 11, 2012
My dad says February is the cruelest month — no football, all the Christmas bills past due.
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Joust horsing around, for olde times sake
February 7, 2012
Here's the instruction book for the newest/oldest/oddest sport you'll hear-ye, hear-ye about today:
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Onion dip at a Super Bowl party? That's so cliche.
February 3, 2012
So I'm coming out of Staples the other night, and I look at the fan next to me on the street. "Katzenberg!!!" I yell, when it turns out to be just another one of those steely eyed bald dudes that L.A. produces like pigeons. I avert what could've been an embarrassing moment by skipping down the street shouting out famous names randomly. "Minnie Driver! Donald Duck!" as if suffering from some sort of celebrity-induced dementia. "Mel Gibson! Larry Hagman! Donna Reed!"
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The terminal romantic
January 28, 2012
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NFL buzz, as viewed on Twitter and Facebook
January 25, 2012
I was an old soul at age 7, had my first midlife crisis at 12.
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Chris Erskine: Sharing three halves. It's how we roll.
January 21, 2012
My wife arrives home, January in her cheeks, smelling like a winter morning. Cradled in her arms, the biggest cinnamon roll you ever saw. More and more, I believe that all happiness begins with the mouth.
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Resolutions are sweet delusions
January 14, 2012
Resolutions? Nothing serious. I'd like to keep Iran from closing the Strait of Hormuz. I'd like to read more political biographies. I'd like to lose 1.3 pounds.
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For Clippers' Chris Paul, it's shoe time
January 11, 2012
Chris Paul walks into the party like he is walking onto a yacht. Even at a press event, he arrives with his own microclimate of cool — sans the usual hubris. Needless to say, I see a lot of myself in him.
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Christmas Eve and the parking lot
January 7, 2012
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Strike up the Badgers band and let's get this show on the road
January 2, 2012
Donny Lavrenz set a Rose Bowl record Monday, piling up an estimated 17,694 all-purpose yards.
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Sports Museum of Los Angeles a treasure chest of memorabilia
December 28, 2011
Museum: a word that produces its own dust. The institutions are not without importance, of course, but who are we kidding? Many museums can also be interminable — like Ashton Kutcher movies, or Patti LaBelle renditions of the national anthem.
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Chris Erskine: In search of Christmas
December 24, 2011
So Christmas is finally upon us. We surrender to it the way disoriented French soldiers used to surrender to thunderstorms, humbled and with arms pointing to the sky. "Please, God, no more boom-boom-boom. Merci."
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Two years on, Karla Green still an angelic guardian
December 20, 2011
The holidays are here, a good time to revisit Karla Green, devoted aunt and — in one horrible instant almost two years ago — the sudden, sainted mom to five young orphans.
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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 … "
