I've loved the Voice for almost 50 years. In the 1970s and '80s and '90s I never missed an issue--even though I lived nowhere near New York. (The paper had a large fan base in the San Francisco Bay Area too.) And I read every issue almost from cover to cover--all the wonderful theater coverage, of course (thank you, Michael Feingold et al.), but also all the rest of the arts coverage, the politics, even the local New York City politics (which, of course, have a way of developing into national politics). And what would life have been without my weekly doses of Feiffer, Stan Mack, and my all-time favorite, Mark Alan Stamaty's McDoodle Street?
RIP, VV. |