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It started early Monday. It always starts on Monday, the yelling, that is. It doesn't stop until late Tuesday. It comes from downstairs, where the bulk of the Free Press work takes place. It's where the fellow who edits this publication plies his trade. He also startles our cats. Like clockwork, every Monday morning, we hear him holler out from below, “Godfrey Daniel!” he yells, but he doesn't really say “Godfrey Daniel.” What he does say I'm not comfortable typing. It's also the mildest of the expletives he spouts. He is crude and foul-mouthed, this editor person. “Mother Pussbucket,” he screamed 10 minutes after letting loose with his first audio bomb of the morning. Wobbles leapt into the air and ran under the bed. She doesn't care for the sound of his voice, not to mention the fact that he startles her with his cursing. “Son-of-a-Bitch!” he wails soon after. His outburst is accompanied by the sound of a fist battering a desk top.

You wouldn’t expect a revenge thriller from the director of 2009’s Crazy Heart. But if you got one, you’d expect it to be as grittily atmospheric as Out of the Furnace. Co-written and directed by Scott Cooper, the tale unfolds against the backdrop of an Appalachian Pennsylvania steel town filled with grimy poverty and despair. It’s here that Russell Baze (Christian Bale) works extra shifts at the mill in hopes of building a life with girlfriend Lena (Zoe Saldana). Meanwhile, family keeps demanding his attention. His father is dying, and his brother, Rodney (Casey Affleck), keeps piling up gambling debts. Warm-hearted and nurturing to a fault, Russell tries to protect Rodney from his own mistakes until a traffic accident changes everything. Russell ends up in prison and doesn’t get out until Rodney—now a former soldier and current bare-knuckle fighter—is in three times as much trouble as he was before. All this sounds like the makings of a touching family drama, but Cooper never lets us forget where it’s going. Before the credits even roll, we’ve already gotten an eyeful of the evil that’s lying in wait for the Bazes.

Going to Holiday Hoopla is one of Columbus’s scarier annual traditions. You never know just what to expect. When Shadowbox Live presented its first Hoopla 21 years ago, the highlights were a touching one-act play and a flaky lounge act called the Santa Babies. Other than bringing back the comical Babies each year, the troupe has been tweaking and re-tweaking the show’s formula ever since. In recent years, it’s tried tying the whole evening together with one plot line (bad idea) and dropping such beloved elements as the gorgeous harmonized tune Children Go Where I Send Thee (terrible idea). But rest assured, Hoopla fans. The 2013 version is one of the best. Things do slow down a bit toward the end, but most of the show strikes just the right balance between laughs and music, edginess and sentiment. The Act 1 skits are particularly clever, starting with Christmas Tree Plea, which pits a jaded hipster (Jamie Barrow) against a talking evergreen (Stacie Boord).

We live in a city that is infamous for knocking down interesting historical structures. They seem to treat the official Historic Registry of buildings in Columbus like a “hit list” for demolition. Whenever I see the “Arch Army” on the Jumbotron at a Blue Jackets game, I scream “Go attack the bastards that knocked down the old Union Station.” Or when I see I see the Army on the march, I want to point them not towards the Red Wings or the Lightning, but towards the Columbus Titans who destroyed the historically significant Ohio Pen. It took battles by conservationists to prevent the City’s elites from destroying the magnificent Ohio Theater and Great Southern Theater to turn them into parking lots. Out of these struggles came the creation of the Historical Resource Commission in 1980.

Although The Explorer’s club in Merion Village is not a vegan restaurant, they have for the last two years honored the vegan community with a special vegan menu in November (wish I would have known this sooner both times!). This year, they are featuring: tempeh tots, caramelized pearl onions and mushroom au gratin, vegan pot roast, vegan cabbage rolls in addition to their usual vegan options on their menu of plantains with a mango habanero chutney, root vegetable pancake sandwich on fresh baked house bread and a hearty bowl of tempeh chili. I’m drooling over the prospects of their December menu as it is a “best of” compilation of the year’s menu that will also be featuring a vegan quinoa patty and chocolate peanut butter cup pie made with coconut milk cream (OMG!). I’m hoping they will add the sweet potato fritters with raspberry jam to that menu because I was in love with those last holiday season. They source locally for many of their menu items and organic items are a future goal of the restaurant. Explorer’s club has enough seating to support large groups when necessary. They are located at: 1586 S High St. Columbus. Open daily for lunch and dinner.

I’ve written about O’Reilly’s before. My feelings about the pepper burger are well-known. And other than a pepper burger, a side of sweet potato fries and an interest in their daily specials I have never tried, I had little more to write about this favored dive bar. That is until I tried their wings. I am not sure how the wings escaped by roving eye. Well, actually, I know how they escaped. I don’t have much ardor for wings. I find them frequently disappointing. In our city, I can not think of many wings worth the effort. Roosters are pretty good. Barley’s Smokehouse brines, smokes and grills their wings, it is a lot of extra work but the end result is very good. I did have wings at the original Anchor Bar, I liked those, as much for the tradition as the taste. I can’t think of any other wings that have made an impression.\ If you know of a place that does serve really good wings, let me know. So a few words about the wings at O’Reilly’s. They are sold by the pound. They are large and meaty. They are deep-fried to a fine crispness. And they are densely breaded. The breading holds the sauce to the wings, so that it clings to the entirety of the surface.

I have had a while to peruse North Market Cookbook – Recipes and Stories from Columbus Ohio’s Historic Public Market. It is written by Michael Turback, a well-known food-focused writer. The forward is written by former Dispatch food editor, Robin Davis, the writer of the first North Market Cookbook. There are no surprises in this book – it provides a quick history of the market and recipes from many of the vendors, growers and personalities of the market. Local chefs and mixologists contribute to book as well. What I like the best about the book – it is constructed to survive a kitchen or getting crushed on the couch with a slick cover and fold outs front and back for marking pages. There are over 100 recipes to choose from in six major areas: soups, small plates, salads and sides, main dishes, desserts and ending with beverages and cocktails. The best way to use this book is to turn to the back and look for the names of your favorite purveyoI have had a while to peruse North Market Cookbook – Recipes and Stories from Columbus Ohio’s Historic Public Market. It is written by Michael Turback, a well-known food-focused writer.

I’ve been going to record stores my whole life. I am a weirdo so vocationally record stores have been there for me. I worked at Magnolia Thunderpussy Records from 2003-2011. I currently work at Roots Records. Today is Thanksgiving.

Fucking Christmas is coming and don't we all hate it? Well, I don't mean I hate it. I love actual Christmas itself. The trees, the kids, the myths and the magic and the food. But not the hideous modern goddam bullshit that comes with it anymore. Like my neighbor having her lights up BEFORE Halloween. Like the mega-commercial exploitation of the beautiful gesture of giving. Like seeing or reading about the mobs of crazed consumer-zombies trampling and fighting over X-boxes and the like. The ACLU public square manger lawsuits. Too much pressure! Disgusting! Pass me one of your grandma's Christmas cookies, will ya? Mmmm, now that helps (munch, munch, gulp). Let's not blame the Baby Jesus--little sumbitch is the most blameless one in this passion play of insanity, none of which in my book has anything to do with true Christianity. Jesus, I'm fairly certain, wouldn't be thrilled with stores open on Thanksgiving or the very concept of Black Friday.

My little brother has down syndrome. He loves music of all types. But his defaults are Miley Cyrus, Taylor Swift, Katy Perry and Lady Gaga. Because he likes female pop singers, I played him Sky Ferreira a while back. My logic was that he could watch a burgeoning pop artist before she got big. He loved it. We went and saw the Venice Beach born/Brooklyn singer play with How to Dress Well at the end of March at the Basement. I visited him the next day and he was watching Sky’s video for “Everything is Embarrassing.” It was cute because he gave the computer a kiss. I noticed on line that she had been at “Party City” by the Carriage Place Cinemark Movies around the same time and I thought about posting a missed connection for my little brother. I did not because fan fiction is creepy even if it’s harmless. But when I found out that Sky Ferreira was playing the A & R Bar with the Smith Westerns Thursday, I got permission from his dad to take him out. His Bible study was out for Thanksgiving break so everything was kosher. I was happy to see Chicago indie-rock band Smith Westerns play before Sky.