August 19, 1996 |
Singer Bobby Brown was injured slightly late Saturday, when a street sign and some shrubbery jumped out in front of the Porsche he was driving in Hollywood, Fla. Oh, all right. A police spokeswoman said Brown "lost control" of the car while driving through a residential neighborhood, and hit the stationary objects. The Porsche's airbags inflated with the collision, and Brown emerged with minor injuries to his legs and neck. He was treated at Hollywood's Memorial Hospital. A spokeswoman declined to say whether the star was tested for blood alcohol levels.
May 11, 1996 |
Burlington County Superior Court Judge Cornelius Sullivan yesterday decided that Millville Patrolman Christopher Groff, 31, was not guilty of simple assault, harassment and disorderly conduct in connection with the August 1992 arrest of a Cumberland County judge's son on drunken-driving charges. Paul R. Porreca Jr., a real estate broker, had parked his Porsche 911 in front of a Millville home he was renovating for resale when Groff pulled in behind him in the early hours of Aug. 25, 1992.
December 7, 1995 |
Police shot two West Virginia carjacking suspects, one fatally, after a high-speed chase yesterday on the New Jersey Turnpike, state police said. Sgt. Daniel Cosgrove, a state police spokesman, said David Wayne Gibson, 19, of West Virginia, was fatally shot while reaching for a gun tucked in his waistband. Ricky Vincent Pendelton, also 19 and from West Virginia, was shot twice in the left arm and was listed in satisfactory condition last night at the Raritan Bay Medical Center-Perth Amboy Division.
September 8, 1995 |
WILL PULL-TAB OYSTERS BE ALL THE RAGE OF PARIS? A French inventor has found a way to fit oysters with pop-open tabs. A French company called Read has swung into production with the shellfish self-shuckers and says it expects 50 million "ringed" oysters to be sold in France this winter. "The process could change the habits of daily life," inventor Yves Renaut, an unemployed engineer, told the Paris newspaper Liberation. "You can go home and eat oysters straightaway, just as you would serve yourself a slice of salmon.
December 9, 1994 |
Stuffed into a shirt and tie and sitting before a partially eaten sandwich oozing with gobs of chicken cheesesteak, Dave Nast recounted what he hopes is his rise to pre-stardom. "This is going to sound corny," the singer-songwriter-guitarist warned as he began telling of his quest to launch a musical career. This from a guy whose debut CD jacket is an ode to his tank-topped chest and bulging muscles, backed by a hologram blonde and a white Porsche? He's the same guy who drives around town in a Camaro with a vanity plate that reads "D-Nasty," the one who counts as his influences the unlikely combination of Richard Marx, Bon Jovi, Sting and Prince.
June 3, 1994 |
Last year, Porsche sold 3,800 cars in this country. That's little more than 10 percent of its 1985 high-water mark. There were some good reasons for the German automaker's saying bye-bye to most of its American pie. "During the late '80s and early '90s, we experienced a rapidly strengthening deutsche mark," recalled Fred Schwab, the president of Porsche North America. "It doubled the price of our cars here. And we didn't have the new product" to scare up more sales. It's also true that Porsche, like the other German car companies, had allowed its manufacturing costs to get out of control.
November 8, 1993 |
Delaware Avenue, move over. Cherry Hill is threatening to burst onto the dance floor with an all-under- one-roof night-club complex. Right there on Route 70, where that trendy nightspot named after former 76er Rick Mahorn has been for two and a half years. It's got a new owner, and it's about to get a new look. Or perhaps we should call it an olde look. Because Mahorn's - the rocking joint where bouncers began using metal detectors to check the guests after a murder in the parking lot in 1992 - is set to become an over-30 night club called Klub Excalibur.
January 2, 1992 |
With Gov. Bill Clinton and just about every other presidential aspirant riding to the rescue of the middle class, a fair question arises: Which middle class? As recently as 10 years ago, most Americans shared a pretty clear image of what life in the middle class looked like: Mom and Dad and Sis and Bud in a nice tract house on Elm Street, a Chevy or a Ford in the driveway, a barbecue in the back yard, a washer and a dryer in the basement and a street filled with kids. That snapshot, so clear, simple and powerful, represented what social analyst Ralph Whitehead calls the "expanding middle class" that burst out after World War II and grew until the early 1970s.
November 26, 1991 |
Pam Shriver, president of the Women's Tennis Association, was discussing whether life on the road for female players will change in the aftermath of Magic Johnson's disclosure that he has the AIDS virus. "There's a big difference between men and women (players) when they travel," said Shriver, 29. "A lot of women are much younger than (professional) guys 21 to 30. Most of us have guy coaches. The chances for date opportunities would be greater if we didn't travel with a guy. They're always around.
September 30, 1991 |
I would guess that a large body of the people who followed the musical career of Miles Davis over the last 4 1/2 decades believed they were involved in a love-hate relationship, when all the time it may have been a cosmic bait- and-switch game. Just when we - oh, I was one of them - had made up our minds to buy Miles Davis' music as the siren song of a genius, he would jerk the cord and disappear into something utterly different that sounded to us like Muzak From Hell. Miles would alibi that he could never hark back to his old music, even for a momentary retrospective, because it bored him. And just when we'd begun to think we had detected a glimmer of merit peeping out of his new product, by George, he would pull the old Lucy-with-the-football trick again.