Author: Derryn Hinch
The recent passing of his friend, Andrew Peacock, hit columnist Derryn Hinch harder than he expected. But while Hinch feels closer to his own end, he feels fortunate to still be here.
In our lifetimes, we’ve witnessed a massive change in the way we eat, travel, and communicate with each other. Perhaps we should note how far we’ve come.
Alongside those taken by the pandemic, 2020 has been a year that has claimed many notable names too. I had the honor of meeting several over the years.
2020 has gifted us many grim events, but the selfish politicizing of an international pandemic surely takes the cake.
As racial violence splits America, I’m reminded of the riots of the sixties, the inflammatory language used, and a grim pattern, doomed to repeat.
As part of my house arrest, I spent five months in isolation. But this time around, I see nothing but positivity and opportunity.
On Super Tuesday, America sat at a pivot point. However, those calling for Bernie Sanders should examine George McGovern’s doomed push of 1972.
This year marks my sixtieth year as a member of the press. I’ve witnessed the birth of both the 24/7 news cycle and the smokeless journalist.
As far as I’m concerned, the concept of grammar and language will soon go the way of the dinosaurs. However, that may not be a bad thing.
As this election cycle continues, Derryn Hinch recalls some Hunter S. Thompson-type moments on the American presidential election trail.
