Lifestyle
L.A. Affairs: He’s a Bruin. I’m a Trojan. Could I fight on in the name of love?
My mother, a UCLA graduate, switched her allegiance on a dime the day I enrolled at USC. She and my father attended every Trojans home game from that day forward. Familial blood may be thicker than alumni water but not so, it seems, when it comes to spousal relations.
And I know about it all too well. My husband, Brad, and I, both divorced and not in the market for anyone who didn’t ooze quality, had engaged in a keyboard courtship. He was avid, while I was reluctant at best. I refused to meet him for months, having been single for six years and not the least bit interested in sharing anything with anyone ever again. But he said he was willing to wait however long it took for me to muster up the courage, and he would even manage to overlook the fact that my diploma was from USC because he (unfortunately) was a devoted Bruin.
Letters soared back and forth between us, and because we were both 50 and counting, once I caved and we came face to face we wasted no time before announcing the nuptials, even though we both knew football season could be an impediment to forever after.
We shopped for rings before our first cross-town rivalry contest, the battle that former UCLA football coach Red Sanders once stated is not a matter of life and death: “It’s more important than that!” he insisted.
We set our wedding date for April, long before we truly realized what would happen in the fall at kickoff. Whereas I pictured us reveling in teasing trash talk, curled up on the sofa, popcorn at the ready — maybe even buying tickets to the big game someday — I was soon to learn that the Los Angeles gridiron civil war was more than we’d bargained for and, in fact, would permeate the walls of our love nest.
Brad started it. The first year, I scurried to Trader Joe’s like a nurturing newlywed bride to gather fun football food for what promised to be the fulfillment of my dream: our enjoying the light banter of frivolous competition in front of the television on a sunny Southern California Saturday afternoon.
When I emerged from the market, shopping bags in hand, I realized the man I’d promised to honor (Had I remembered to tell the priest to omit the word “obey”?) had switched out my striking cardinal and gold USC license plate frames for the ones decorated in the pale baby blue of his alma mater — ugh, UCLA Bruins!
Two could play at this game. I plopped the bags on the back seat, hopped on the 405 Freeway and beelined to SC Trojan Town at South Coast Plaza — yes, Virginia, there really is a retail Santa Claus for the University of Spoiled Children.
I whipped out my husband’s Visa card and promptly placed every fanatical fan item I could carry on it. I toted two suitcase-size handled bags filled with cocktail napkins, plates, cups, a king-size blanket, T-shirts, sweatpants, pajamas, signs, streamers, pennants, socks, hats, jerseys and my personal favorite, because he pretends to have symptoms of a stroke every time he hears it, a refrigerator magnet that plays the Trojan fight song.
Fight on! In no time, I had racked up an unconscionable dollar amount of paraphernalia that was sure to bring the house down. Then there was the year when USC was favored by a margin wider than the Pacific Ocean, the year the man I thought I’d be sharing my life with chose to clean out the garage and not even watch one quarterback toss. That was the year I ate all the cardinal and gold M&Ms myself.
Shortly after standing at the altar before family and friends, when we attended a UCLA-USC basketball game outfitted in our respective school sweatshirts, we were observed by a group of boorish Bruins. “Aw man,” one of them said to my husband. “Couldn’t you have done better?”
Clearly, you can’t major in manners on the west side of town. To this day, whenever the big day arrives for the football game more crucial than the Super Bowl, I find myself sometimes rising above it all in the company of Brad’s fraternity bro and his wife, an ex-UCLA song girl.
Although outnumbered and having to sit next to a song girl, I handle it gracefully despite some tiresome enemy tirades on the topic of campus controversy, á la parents paying to get their progeny into USC.
I point out that it’s a feather in one’s cap to be able to graduate from such a prestigious university, while our Bruin guests argue that those parents threw away their money.
Twenty years into sacramental union, we’d like to think we have for the most part let it go, especially since neither team provides the stellar spectacle that they did in our glory days from 1969 to 1973.
But every time November rolls around, unfurled is the flag flying our schools’ colors: half cardinal and gold, half just boring blue and yellow. “A House Divided,” it proclaims for all the neighbors to see. So perhaps to gain the truly proper perspective, it’s time for us to arrange a ceremony during which we renew our sacred vows adding just one more to the list: For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer … and no matter who wins the game.
The author is a second-generation Los Angeles native who lives in Fallbrook, Calif. A graduate of USC, she is the author of essays and stories that have appeared in newspapers and magazines including the Los Angeles Times, Orange Coast Magazine and Newsweek for over two decades.
L.A. Affairs chronicles the search for romantic love in all its glorious expressions in the L.A. area, and we want to hear your true story. We pay $400 for a published essay. Email LAAffairs@latimes.com. You can find submission guidelines here. You can find past columns here.
Lifestyle
Her 1951 walkout helped end school segregation. Now her statue is in the U.S. Capitol
A model of the statue of Barbara Rose Johns pictured in 2023, two years before the real thing was unveiled at the U.S. Capitol.
Amy Davis/The Baltimore Sun/ZUMA Press Wire via Reuters
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Amy Davis/The Baltimore Sun/ZUMA Press Wire via Reuters
In 1951, a Black teenager led a walkout of her segregated Virginia high school. On Tuesday, her statue replaced that of a Confederate general in the U.S. Capitol.
Barbara Rose Johns was 16 when she mobilized hundreds of students to walk out of Farmville’s Robert Russa Moton High School to protest its overcrowded conditions and inferior facilities compared to those of the town’s white high school.
That fight was taken up by the NAACP and eventually became one of the five cases that the U.S. Supreme Court reviewed in Brown v. Board of Education, whose landmark 1954 ruling declared school segregation unconstitutional.
“Before the sit-ins in Greensboro, before the Montgomery bus boycott, there was the student strike here in 1951, led by Barbara Johns,” Cameron Patterson told NPR in 2020, when he led the Robert Russa Moton Museum, located on the former school grounds.
Johns’ bronze statue is the latest addition to Emancipation Hall, a gathering place in the U.S. Capitol Visitor Center that houses many of the 100 statues representing each state.
Every state legislature gets to honor two notable individuals from its history with statues in the Capitol. For over a century, Virginia was represented by George Washington and, until a few years ago, Confederate Gen. Robert E. Lee.
Lee’s statue was hoisted out of the Capitol — at the request of then-Virginia Gov. Ralph Northam, a Democrat — in December 2020, the year that a nationwide racial reckoning spurred the removal of over 100 Confederate symbols across the U.S.
The same month, Virginia’s Commission on Historical Statues in the United States Capitol voted unanimously to select a statue of Johns to replace it. Johns, who died in 1991, was chosen from a list of 100 names and five finalists, including Pocahontas and Maggie Lena Walker, the first Black woman to serve as president of a U.S. bank.
Exactly five years and a multi-step approval process later, the 11-foot statue — created by Maryland artist Steven Weitzman — has finally moved in. It shows a teenage Johns standing at a podium, raising a book overhead mid-rallying cry.
Its pedestal is engraved with the words: “Are we going to just accept these conditions, or are we going to do something about it?”
Johns is credited with helping end school segregation
Johns was born in New York City in March 1935, and moved to Virginia’s Prince Edward County during World War II to live on her grandmother’s — and later, father’s — farm.
According to the Moton Museum, Johns — the niece of civil rights pioneer the Rev. Vernon Johns — grew increasingly frustrated by the lack of resources at her school. Classrooms were located in free-standing tar-paper shacks that lacked proper plumbing, with no science laboratories, cafeteria or gymnasium at all.
She later wrote in an unpublished memoir that when she finally took her concerns to a teacher, they responded, “Why don’t you do something about it?” She felt dismissed at first, but gave the idea more thought and decided to unite the student council members to coordinate a strike.
“We would make signs and I would give a speech stating our dissatisfaction and we would march out [of] the school and people would hear us and see us and understand our difficulty and would sympathize with our plight and would grant us our new school building and our teachers would be proud and the students would learn more and it would be grand,” Johns wrote, according to the museum.
On April 23, 1951, Johns gathered all 450 students in the auditorium and convinced them to walk out, to protest their school’s conditions and campaign for a new building. The strike lasted roughly two weeks and caught the attention of the NAACP.
NAACP lawyers Spottswood Robinson and Oliver Hill filed a lawsuit (Davis et al. v. County School Board of Prince Edward County, Virginia) in federal court, challenging the constitutionality of segregated education in the county’s schools.
The court ultimately sided with the county, but did order that its Black schools be made physically equal to white schools. A new Black Moton High School — known as “Moton 2” — was built in 1953 to avoid integration.
The following year, the Supreme Court declared school segregation unconstitutional in Brown v. Board of Ed, based on the Farmville case and four others from across the country. But it took years for the ruling to actually be enforced throughout the U.S., especially in Virginia, which enacted a set of anti-integration laws that came to be known as “Massive Resistance.”
Prince Edward County schools were officially integrated in 1964, after being closed for five years in an attempt to avoid it. Moton 2 was reopened as the Prince Edward County High School and remained in use until 1993.
As for Johns, she was sent after the walkout to live with relatives and finish her schooling in Alabama due to safety concerns. She attended Spelman College and graduated from Drexel University before working as a librarian for Philadelphia Public Schools. She married the Rev. William Powell, with whom she raised five children before her death at age 56.
Johns has been recognized in Virginia over the years. Her story is now a required part of lessons in the public school curricula. In 2017, the Virginia Attorney General’s Offices were renamed in her honor. And the following year, the Virginia General Assembly designated April 23 — the anniversary of the walkout — as Barbara Johns Day statewide.
Johns’ sister, Joan Johns Cobbs, told member station VPM last year that their family is honored by this newest tribute in the nation’s capital.
“I think Virginia is trying to correct some of its inequities,” Johns Cobbs said. “I think the fact that they chose her was one way they are trying to rectify what happened in the past.”
Bucking a trend in 2025
Plans for Johns’ statue have been in motion since well before President Trump’s second term, which has been marked by a rollback in diversity initiatives and the reinstallment of Confederate monuments.
One of Trump’s executive orders along those lines, aimed at “restoring truth and sanity to American history,” calls on the secretary of the Interior to restore public monuments and markers on federal lands that have been changed or removed since 2020.

In October, a statue of Confederate Gen. Albert Pike was reinstalled in a D.C. park, five years after protesters tore it down and set it ablaze.
As is customary, state leaders and members of Congress will be in attendance at Tuesday’s statue unveiling. Among them will be House Speaker Mike Johnson as well as Virginia Gov. Glenn Youngkin, a Republican who campaigned in part against critical race theory and has eliminated DEI initiatives in office.
Sen. Tim Kaine, D-Va., who also plans to attend the ceremony, issued a statement beforehand praising Johns’ “incredible bravery and leadership she displayed when she walked out of Moton High School.”
“I’m thrilled that millions of visitors to the U.S. Capitol, including many young people, will now walk by her statue and learn about her story,” he added. “May she continue to inspire generations to stand up for equality and justice.”
Lifestyle
Noah Schnapp Says There Were Tears on ‘Stranger Things’ Set After Filming Finale
‘Stranger Things’ Noah Schnapp
Tears Flowed After Filming Wrapped …
Finale Is Super Sad!!!
Published
TMZ.com
Noah Schnapp says the “Stranger Things” cast and crew had tears in their eyes when they filmed the final episode of the hit Netflix series … and he’s expecting fans to get emotional when the finale drops.
We got Noah in New York City on Tuesday, and our photog asked him if the tears were flowing when the final ‘ST’ season was wrapping up.
Noah confirms our suspicions and says the upcoming finale is going to be super sad … and he’s even nervous for it.
The cast is gonna get together one last time to watch the finale, and Noah’s anticipating more tears there, too.
The “Stranger Things” finale is set to be released on Netflix — and in theaters — on Dec. 31 … so the end of an era is near.
Lifestyle
Rob Reiner said he was ‘never, ever too busy’ for his son
Rob Reiner at the Cannes film festival in 2022.
Andreas Rentz/Getty Images
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Andreas Rentz/Getty Images
When Rob Reiner spoke with Fresh Air in September to promote Spinal Tap II: The End Continues, Terry Gross asked him about Being Charlie, a 2015 film he collaborated on with his son Nick Reiner. The film was a semiautobiographical story of addiction and homelessness, based on Nick’s own experiences.
Nick Reiner was arrested Sunday evening after Rob and Michele Reiner were found dead inside their California home.


The father character in Being Charlie feels a lot of tension between his own career aspirations and his son’s addiction — but Reiner said that wasn’t how it was for him and Nick.
“I was never, ever too busy,” Reiner told Fresh Air. “I mean, if anything, I was the other way, you know, I was more hands-on and trying to do whatever I thought I could do to help. I’m sure I made mistakes and, you know, I’ve talked about that with him since.”
At the time, Reiner said he believed Nick was doing well. “He’s been great … hasn’t been doing drugs for over six years,” Reiner said. “He’s in a really good place.”

Reiner starred in the 1970s sitcom, All in the Family and directed Stand By Me, The Princess Bride, When Harry Met Sally and A Few Good Men. Spinal Tap II: The End Continues is a sequel to his groundbreaking 1984 mockumentary This Is Spinal Tap.
“After 15 years of not working together, we came back and started looking at this and seeing if we could come up with an idea, and we started schnadling right away,” Reiner recalled. “It was like falling right back in with friends that you hadn’t talked to in a long time. It’s like jazz musicians, you just fall in and do what you do.”
Below are some more highlights from that interview.
Interview Highlights
Carl Reiner (left) and Rob Reiner together in 2017.
Matt Winkelmeyer/Getty Images for TCM
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Matt Winkelmeyer/Getty Images for TCM
On looking up to his dad, director Carl Reiner, and growing up surrounded by comedy legends
When I was a little boy, my parents said that I came up to them and I said, “I want to change my name.” I was about 8 years old … They were all, “My god, this poor kid. He’s worried about being in the shadow of this famous guy and living up to all this.” And they say, “Well, what do you want to change your name to?” And I said, “Carl.” I loved him so much, I just wanted to be like him and I wanted to do what he did and I just looked up to him so much. …
[When] I was 19 … I was sitting with him in the backyard and he said to me, “I’m not worried about you. You’re gonna be great at whatever you do.” He lives in my head all the time. I had two great guides in my life. I had my dad, and then Norman Lear was like a second father. They’re both gone, but they’re with me always. …
There’s a picture in my office of all the writers who wrote for Sid Caesar and [Your] Show of Shows over the nine years, I guess, that they were on. And, when you look at that picture, you’re basically looking at everything you ever laughed at in the first half of the 20th century. I mean there’s Mel Brooks, there’s my dad, there is Neil Simon, there is Woody Allen, there is Larry Gelbart, Joe Stein who wrote Fiddler on the Roof, Aaron Ruben who created The Andy Griffith Show. Anything you ever laughed at is represented by those people. So these are the people I look up to, and these are people that were around me as a kid growing up.
YouTube
On directing the famous diner scene in When Harry Met Sally
We knew we were gonna do a scene where Meg [Ryan] was gonna fake an orgasm in an incongruous place like a deli, and Billy [Crystal] came up with the line, “I’ll have what she’s having.” … I said, we need to find somebody, an older Jewish woman, who could deliver that line, which would seem incongruous. I thought of my mother because my mother had done a couple of little [movie] things … So I asked her if she wanted to do it and she said sure. I said, “Now listen mom, hopefully that’ll be the topper of the scene. It’ll get the big laugh, and if it doesn’t, I may have to cut it out.” … She said, “That’s fine. I just want to spend the day with you. I’ll go to Katz’s. I’ll get a hot dog.” …
When we did the scene the first couple of times through Meg was kind of tepid about it. She didn’t give it her all. … She was nervous. She’s in front of the crew and there’s extras and people. … And at one point, I get in there and I said, “Meg, let me show you what I meant.” And I sat opposite Billy, and I’m acting it out, and I’m pounding the table and I’m going, “Yes, yes, yes!” … I turned to Billy and I say, “This is embarrassing … I just had an orgasm in front of my mother.” But then Meg came in and she did it obviously way better than I could do it.
On differentiating himself from his father with Stand By Me (1986)
I never said specifically I want to be a film director. I never said that. And I never really thought that way. I just knew I wanted to act, direct, and do things, be in the world that he was in. And it wasn’t until I did Stand By Me that I really started to feel very separate and apart from my father. Because the first film I did was, This Is Spinal Tap, which is a satire. And my father had trafficked in satire with Sid Caesar for many years. And then the second film I did was a film called The Sure Thing, which was a romantic comedy for young people, and my father had done romantic comedy. The [Dick] Van Dyke Show is a romantic comedy, a series.
But when I did Stand By Me, it was the one that was closest to me because … I felt that my father didn’t love me or understand me, and it was the character of Gordie that expressed those things. And the film was a combination of nostalgia, emotion and a lot of humor. And it was a real reflection of my personality. It was an extension, really, of my sensibility. And when it became successful, I said, oh, OK. I can go in the direction that I want to go in and not feel like I have to mirror everything my father’s done up till then.
On starting his own production company (Castle Rock) and how the business has changed
We started it so I could have some kind of autonomy because I knew that the kinds of films I wanted to make people didn’t wanna make. I mean, I very famously went and talked to Dawn Steel, who was the head of Paramount at the time. … And she says to me, “What do you wanna make? What’s your next film?” And I said, “Well, you know, I got a film, but I don’t think you’re going to want to do it.” … I’m going to make a movie out of The Princess Bride. And she said, “Anything but that.” So I knew that I needed to have some way of financing my own films, which I did for the longest time. …
It’s tough now. And it’s beyond corporate. I mean, it used to be there was “show” and “business.” They were equal — the size of the word “show” and “business.” Now, you can barely see the word “show,” and it’s all “business.” And the only things that they look at [are] how many followers, how many likes, what the algorithms are. They’re not thinking about telling a story. … I still wanna tell stories. And I’m sure there’s a lot of young filmmakers — even Scorsese is still doing it, older ones too — that wanna tell a story. And I think people still wanna hear stories and they wanna see stories.

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