Patrick J. Sauer Online

This s a piece I wrote about my year in the Bronx that recently ran on Mr. Beller's Neighborhood. 

As far as I know, it's the only time that this important issue has been addressed.

Why do white people smell like bologna?

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Finally, R. Kelly and I have something else in common.

Although, I don't just believe I can fly. I have proof.

While working on the piece in the May/June Success about business owners who fly their own planes, I was asked an intriguing question from a representative of Project Pilot, the mentoring program of the Aircraft Owners and Pilots Association (AOPA).

“Would you like to take a test flight?”

There is a great photo journal from editor/photographer/backseat co-pilot David Napuk  of our flyboy adventures. 

Off we go into the wild blue yonder...

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Here's a story from all those who love (or hate) a parade.

Please read before the turkey-induced coma sets in. 

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.  

(A note of gratitude to Mr. Beller's Neighborhood for posting this yarn.)

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To paraphrase Ice Cube, today isn't a good day. I have a head cold, it's 40-degrees outside, the Philadelphia Eagles  no longer win football games and this unpleasant hometown story/picture was above the fold on the front page of the New York Times. 

Time to make with the funny.

Here is this tale of meeting Norman Mailer -- one of my idols -- and how it wasn't exactly what I expected.

It's the second in the "Brushes With Fame" series that I've posted at Smith, a nifty digital magazine devoted to first-person stories. The first was my encounter assisting Vice President Dick Cheney at a sporting goods store. 

"Being a real writer means being able to do the work on a bad day," Norman Mailer.

You're damn right, Norm. This one's for you.