Walt Shepperd is a veteran of Central New York's political scuffle, having covered government and politics in Syracuse for more than four decades before being asked for press credentials.
He is the Senior Editor of the City Eagle and the Mayor of Montgomery Street in downtown Syracuse.
Shepperd is also the producer of the The Media Unit, Central New York national award winning teen performance and production troupe.
Samadee is his alter ego. At least that's the rumor.
“McCain just won the election,” the Wannabe said brashly as he helped the Has Been and Samadee set up a table which had been stacked up against the wall on the downtown side of Hanover Square. It was an early evening during State Fair Week and the Square was deserted. But it wasn’t raining, so they pulled up chairs and waited to see if anyone was going to open for business. “Just when they thought Hillary’s people couldn’t get any more pissed off,” the Wannabe continued, not even looking for response from his tablemates. “They outflanked the Democrats on the progressive front with a woman who opposes women’s reproductive rights. And such a Republican lady...
Hanover Square was desolate, even for a Monday night. The sky kept promising rain, but never really delivered. Anthony took his tables inside halfway through the dinner hour. Samadee, the Has Been and the Wannabe sat steadfast on the Southside of the Square, watching the gray swirling clouds slide to the Northeast. Samadee was practicing the meditation exercise his Five Decade Courtmate had suggested to bring his blood pressure down. His trainer had tested his blood pressure at the Y that morning with some alarm, and suspended his workouts. With his tryout for the B&B; Lounge team in the Baby Boomers Basketball League little more than a month away, Samadee had to get those numbers down, especially for the physical at the Community Health Center only two days away...
Samadee, the Has Been and the Wannabe were eating Italian outside on Hanover Square. It was Sunday of Festa Italiana, and they had picked up Philly Cheese Steaks from the perky ladies at the Dominick’s booth, and were sitting at a table outdoors on the Southside of the Square, waiting for the live band to create another Soul Night at Downtown Manhattan’s. It was cheating for Samadee, whose Trainer had taken him off red meat. He would be seeing the Doctor the next day at the behest of the Trainer, who had tested his blood pressure, free of charge, at the Y, and found it a potential obstacle to his quest for a spot on the roster of the B&B; Lounge team in the Baby Boomers Basketball League at SouthWest Community Center...
Jimmy Johns couldn’t play “Don’t Put All Your Eggs in One Basket,” he said that night. It was Wednesday at Pasta’s, a gig that had become as regular as the one he and John Rhode had shared with Mark Copani and Otis Smith at Phoebe’s a decade ago. Earlier that day, after prolonged illness, Otis, at age 70, had, in the words of his ex-wife Carol, “Moved on up to sing lead for the biggest choir in the sky.”
Hundreds of marchers passed by on the sidewalk, many wearing patches bearing the names of loved ones who had died from diseases on which they were bearing witness, as Jimmy and John set up, wedged into the bistro’s front window alcove, much as the then honorary All-Night Workers had been cloistered on a landing between the garden café’s bar and upper dining room...
