WAUSAU, Wis. — U.S. Rep. Tom Tiffany, the Republican nominee for Wisconsin governor, wiped away tears and laughed while sharing how thankful he was Sunday to survive a harrowing late-night emergency landing into a lake of the small plane he was riding in.
The pilot “said we are going down,” Tiffany told reporters at a downtown Wausau firehouse. “‘Pull your seat belt tight.’ I gave it a yank and pulled it good and tight. It was probably about 10 seconds later … we hit the water.”
Tiffany said he and the pilot, Leonard Boltz, remained on top of the plane in Lake Wausau until it began sinking. They decided on swimming to shore. He said they swam about 100 to 150 feet until they reached water shallow enough to stand in.
“We’re really fortunate that God was looking after us last night,” said Tiffany, 68.
The Marathon County Sheriff’s Office said in a statement that the emergency landing happened just before 9 p.m. Saturday. Boltz called 911 after the pair got out of the plane. They were rescued by emergency responders in a fire department airboat just after 9 p.m.
“The gravity of this is probably just hitting me at this point,” Tiffany said Sunday. “We were making jokes every step of the way last night. Though we knew it was a serious situation, we tried to keep it light through the whole thing.”
David Crowley, the Democratic gubernatorial nominee, wished Tiffany a “quick recovery” in a post on X and lauded the “heroism of the pilot.”
Tiffany said he was returning from the La Crosse County Lincoln Day Dinner when the single-engine, four-seat Beechcraft Bonanza aircraft lost power as it approached Wausau Downtown Airport.
Tiffany said he had a cut above his right eye that required 12 stitches. Boltz, who Tiffany said is a retired Air Force pilot, also suffered cuts and received four stitches.
Tiffany said the incident will not affect his gubernatorial campaign.
A no-wake buoy was placed near the plane, which remained in the lake, and boaters were asked to avoid the area until the aircraft can be removed, the sheriff’s office said.
A Federal Aviation Administration spokesperson said the agency would investigate the incident. A National Transportation Safety Board spokesperson said that agency is waiting for the FAA to assess the plane as to whether the damage was substantial enough for it to get involved.
Yoshinobu Yamamoto was flawless over his first five innings in the Dodgers’ 8-6 loss to the St. Louis Cardinals on Wednesday, giving up no hits with seven strikeouts and one walk.
“It comes down to starting pitching,” Roberts said pregame, after his team gave up 13 runs in a loss Tuesday. “And obviously it’s a young, hungry team out there. Came out last night swinging the bats, so it’d be nice to put up a zero, get a lead, and go from there.”
Roberts’ wish appeared granted, as the Dodgers led 3-0 in the first after Freddie Freeman ended his career-long 47-game homer drought with a three-run blast against Cardinals lefty Brycen Mautz.
But the once-cruising ace encountered turbulence. He later gave up a pair of two-run homers, with the Cardinals’ Thomas Saggese launching the first in the sixth and Leo Bernal the second in the eighth.
“[Tuesday] night I really liked the way we just kind of fought, saw some different arms, got the closer up, and things to build on,” Roberts said pregame.
On Wednesday, not even a Mookie Betts two-run homer in the seventh could lift the Dodgers (82-57) to a win.
Yamamoto’s night was done after seven innings. He threw 93 pitches, had eight strikeouts and gave up five hits, two walks and four runs, a few mistakes away from a completely different outing.
Tanner Scott stepped in for Yamamoto in the eighth, allowing a Joshua Báez double three pitches in. And after Ivan Herrera moved Báez to third via a groundout, Alec Burleson tied the score at five with a sacrifice fly to right.
Jack Dreyer kept things stable with a clean ninth. However, in the 10th, Brock Stewart (0-2) uninspiringly gave up three runs. Orange County native Nathan Church got the Cardinals’ wheels turning iwith a single up the middle, advancing José Fermin to third. Saggese delivering the go-ahead run on an infield single. One pitch later, Báez put the game out of reach with a two-run double
The Dodgers could only get one run back in the bottom of the miserable 10th.
CT3 comes home
Chris Taylor, his wife Mary and son Theo watch a video tribute to his career before the start of Wednesday’s game.
(Ronaldo Bolanos / Los Angeles Times)
The Dodgers welcomed back former longtime utility player Chris Taylor to Dodger Stadium and presented him with a video tribute and his third World Series ring.
“It’s pretty much what I identify my career as — over 90% of my entire career was in Dodger Blue,” Taylor said. “This is the place I call home. Always proud to be a Dodger, and it means a lot to me that they would do this for me. So, I’m extremely humbled.”
Taylor, a 12-year veteran who retired earlier this season, said Wednesday night was the first time he was able to watch a game with his family.
Injury Updates
Shohei Ohtani reacts after striking out in 10th inning Wednesday.
(Ronaldo Bolanos/Los Angeles Times)
Roberts said the plan is still for Shohei Ohtani to return to pitching this season. However, there is no timetable for when he’ll throw his next bullpen session, and shutting down Ohtani as a pitcher remains a distant possibility.
“We’re not there quite yet, but it’s certainly an option,” Roberts said.
Roberts also shed light on some of the work Ohtani’s doing to get back on the mound.
“He’s doing plyos,” Roberts said. “He does that a handful of times a week. … That’s kind of where we’re at right now.”
Will Smith was given a breather after going one for five with two RBIs in his first game back from a three-month stint on the IL on Tuesday.
“It was good to see him get a knock,” Roberts said. “I thought he swung the bat pretty well. So, it’s a premeditated day off today. He’ll be back in there tomorrow, but I guess no news is good news.”
It wasn’t a full day off, as Smith pinch-hit for Hunter Feduccia in the ninth and scored the Dodgers’ run in the 10th.
Rōki Sasaki’s blister is healing as planned, and he shouldn’t miss additional time.
“I saw him yesterday at the end of the bench; it’s healing well,” Roberts said. “He’s still moving his arm, playing catch. So I think it’s going to be a shorter term getting him back.”
Roberts doesn’t yet know whether Sasaki will take a spot in the bullpen or rotation upon his return.
Gavin Stone could potentially pitch in September, according to Roberts.
“Gavin’s been good,” Roberts said. “I think right now — and again, this is not talking to the guys in the, you know, player development — but it’s more of just getting him to stay upright, stay healthy, is the win for 2026.”
BERKELEY — Twelve hours after walking offstage at the Greek Theatre on Tuesday night, David Byrne sits down with a cup of coffee on the patio of a tony hillside hotel and admits that he’s starting to get a little misty.
Last night’s concert on the campus of UC Berkeley was one of the remaining few on Byrne’s yearlong world tour after 2025’s “Who Is The Sky?” album. About an hour from now, a bus will pull up to ferry the 74-year-old musician and the dozen or so members of his touring company to the airport for a quick flight to Los Angeles, where they’re set to perform Friday and Saturday nights at the Hollywood Bowl.
“There’s a firepit over there,” Byrne says, pointing across the patio, “so after the show we all sat around and told stories. Everyone’s such a joy to work with — we’re all having a really good time.” He sighs. “That’s kind of rare, actually.”
“Who Is The Sky?,” which Byrne made with the producer Kid Harpoon, contrasts deep lyrics about art, home and enlightenment with bright pop arrangements filled with crisp grooves and singalong melodies. (Kid Harpoon, whose real name is Tom Hull, is known for the hits he’s created with Harry Styles and Miley Cyrus.) In the show, Byrne blends whimsical new tunes like “My Apartment Is My Friend” and “I Met the Buddha at a Downtown Party” with jittery oldies by Talking Heads, the hugely influential art-rock band he formed in 1975 with Jerry Harrison, Chris Frantz and Tina Weymouth.
Yet even when the songs get dark — as in “Life During Wartime,” which comes with images of police violence on the enormous digital screens behind the players — the mood is euphoric: Like Byrne’s previous tour behind 2018’s “American Utopia,” this one has the musicians holding their instruments as they execute choreographed moves on a bare stage; the result is more or less a nonstop dance party. (Also like “American Utopia,” which Spike Lee adapted into an acclaimed concert film, this tour will make its way to movie screens courtesy of “The Brutalist” director Brady Corbet.)
So you can see why Byrne would be sad to see it come to an end, not least because he’s been using his days off to tool around a given town and take pictures of cool local color. At the top of the gig in Berkeley, he showed photos from a hike he’d taken and of a car he’d come across with a tricked-out sound system.
“Any ideas of things to see in L.A.?” he asks me, dressed in a violet-colored chore jacket only a few shades removed from the blue one he wore onstage. “That hike was a workout. Even some of the dancers said those hills were steep.”
“Life During Wartime” was maybe 15% faster last night than the original record. Could’ve been, yes. You’ll have to ask the drummers — they set the tempo, and they get excited and it kind of ramps up. It’s sometimes hard for me to keep up — I’ve got a lot of words to get out.
I was fortunate to be at Van Halen’s next-to-last show at the Hollywood Bowl, and I remember every song felt insanely fast. Wonder if that was drugs?
You ever see Van Halen? Never saw them live. David Lee Roth was a Talking Heads fan — came to visit our rehearsal loft once. I was kind of surprised: “How did you…?”
David Byrne performs at the Coachella festival in April.
(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)
Would you say things turned out better or worse than the future you predicted in “Life During Wartime”? Well, we’re not having a total civil war. There’s maybe still a chance that could happen, but it seems there’s more resistance now than there was before — a sense that we don’t have to just roll over and take all the stuff that’s going on. The footage we got kind of hits home.
You show the video of the guy on the bike pedaling away from ICE agents in Chicago. That often gets a cheer.
I wondered if it ever doesn’t. In the United States, no. Seeing the underdog get away — that’s a pretty timeworn story. We didn’t have that video at the beginning of the tour — it didn’t exist. I saw it on some news service, and I thought, oh, this has to lead the whole sequence. When we were first putting the show together, we had more video stuff. But screens are really seductive, so you start looking at that. We said, no, you have to connect with real live people, then you can put it up.
Have you been to the Sphere in Las Vegas? A bunch of the band and I went to see “Wizard of Oz.” I haven’t seen a band in there. But it was really a lot of fun — quite a spectacle with the video all around you.
Don Henley compares the Eagles’ role there to the organist at a silent movie. The pit band, yeah. That’s a thing to do — works especially well, I would imagine, for bands like the Eagles and other groups that don’t do a whole lot of song and dance.
At 74, can your body do all the dancing you want to do? Oh, no. With more physical training, I’d probably be able to do a little more than I can now. But I’m never gonna be able to do what some of the dancers can do.
How about what you used to be able to do? Like in “Stop Making Sense”? There’s some stuff in there where I go, nope, can’t do that. But I can do other things. I don’t have a feeling that I’m barely getting by.
Are you an exerciser? I have a person I see in New York. It hasn’t happened so much lately because we’ve been moving around so much. But Sasha [Rivero, from the touring company] leads us through these warm-up exercises before shows — kind of a cross between strength training and yoga.
Beyond the value of staying agile, how do you think about maintaining your looks? I’m aware it’s a thing. If I came across as old and decrepit, it might be less exciting for some of the audience. Not great for business.
When did your hair go gray? In the ’90s, I want to say. I dyed it for a while when I started seeing a fair amount of gray coming in. Then at one point I was on holiday with my then-wife and just said, “Let’s cut it off and see what’s under there.” By that point it was pretty much all gray. I was OK with it.
Who’s a performer you admire who’s still out there doing it late in life? Caetano Veloso — he’s served as a role model for me. He’s someone who’s reinvented himself over and over and over again — done records that are very different than the record before. Even on the same record, he can be really experimental and then do something incredibly romantic.
Can you envision a time when you’d stop performing? I don’t think so. I can see there might be a point where I don’t do as much dancing around.
I’ve seen Willie Nelson probably half a dozen times in the last 10 years. He sits there and plays, and it’s great. “My Apartment Is My Friend,” that was inspired by a Willie Nelson song: “Hello Walls.” There’s also a George Jones song, “The Grand Tour,” where he takes you into his place: “This is where she sat, that’s where she put out her cigarette,” all this kind of stuff. I loved that you can make an apartment into a character. So I started putting down ideas, and I realized: Should I reveal that it’s about an apartment right off the bat, or should I wait till the last line of the chorus? Before that, you don’t know — it sounds like a love song. The title gives it away. But Tom, when I said “should I change the title?” he said, “The title’s what got me to listen to the demo.”
If I say that the songs from the new album didn’t come alive for me until the show, how does that strike you? Good and bad. I wish the record had the same impact that the songs have live. But then I also think to myself: Well, the reason you go to see a live show is because you’re getting something more than you get by just putting a record on.
(Josh Edelson / For The Times)
You’ve been playing for years now with this mobile handheld setup. I wasn’t sure an audience was gonna go for it. I don’t know why, but I thought it was kind of a big step for an audience to take in.
To not have the traditional rock band stage set. “Here’s the drummer — we know what he does.” There were people on the last tour who would say, “It’s got to be playback — you’re not really playing it.” So I added an introduction to a song where one by one we introduced the musicians at the beginning of the song, and you could hear how we put it together. An unexpected consequence is that it democratized the whole stage experience for the band members. There’s parts where the drummers come to the front and I go to the back, which you would never have in a regular kind of show where the drummer’s stuck on a riser. Everyone gets to be a star — everyone gets to be recognized as an individual.
Would you say your eagerness to share the spotlight could only have come after years of being the focal point? I have no idea.
Most of the musicians are pretty young. Younger than me, anyway.
Why is that important to you? I learn from them — musically but also personally. I learn about what music they’re listening to, what their experiences have been, what their take on things is. They’re not living in the past — they don’t have nostalgia for the good old days.
In 2023, you spent a fair chunk of time looking back with the rest of Talking Heads for a rerelease of “Stop Making Sense.” Did you enjoy that or grit your teeth through it? It was fine — it was really nice. As we said over and over, we’re very proud of that show and the music that we did and the film that Jonathan [Demme] made. And that it was going to connect with a completely new generation. Jerry came to the show last night. He lives in Marin.
You guys hang out? Afterwards, yeah. I mean, he had to drive back. He said he enjoyed it — said it was a good show. I connected him with our keyboard player because the keyboard player came up with these interesting technical things I thought Jerry might be interested in. He has an accelerometer attached to his arm — you don’t see it because his sleeve covers it — where he raises his arm and it increases the volume like a foot pedal on a keyboard.
Tell me about Brady Corbet’s concert movie. He shot it in 70mm. To be honest, I wasn’t sure why. But Brady made the case, and it wasn’t about bringing people into the theater. He said when you go to 70mm it’s a little bit closer to what your eye experiences.
Talking Heads in Italy in 1982: Tina Weymouth, from left, Jerry Harrison, Chris Frantz and David Byrne.
(Luciano Viti / Getty Images)
This is kind of a cutesy formulation, but I wonder if it’s pushing back on the dominance of vertical video. Biologically and evolutionary-wise, we experience the world horizontally. We don’t go walking around looking up at the sky — the stuff that’s gonna come get us is somewhere on our eye level.
Jimmy Iovine gave an interview to the New York Times the other day where he said one of the last things he asked AI was about your set list. He could’ve just asked me.
Iovine was extremely pro-AI in this interview. What’s your vibe? My vibe is positive and negative. On the positive side, we’ve all heard the hype from Silicon Valley that we’re gonna have medical breakthroughs. The negatives — how could there not be massive job loss? What concerns me is the environmental stuff. The last thing the planet needs is a massive increase in energy usage. We’re talking about the survival of species — of everything that lives on Earth. To ramp up that part of what humans do just seems like the worst possible thing you could do.
The other thing that worries me is that machines aren’t really thinking — they’re probabilistic. This stuff has been designed intentionally to mimic human beings, and we are very, very easily fooled. I think that’s dangerous because we give it agency. We assume all these things about it — we trust it. I mean, people will listen to a political argument from a chatbot more than they will from another person.
Seems bad. Right?
Any worthwhile creative application you can identify? I used it a little bit to animate my drawings in one of the sequences from the show. They’re my drawings — I wasn’t taking from anybody else. In that case I feel like it’s a tool that’s very efficient. Might put some animators out of work, but if I had to pay the rate for animators on something like that, it would take a year to do and cost me a fortune.
What if the producer on your next record says, “Hey, here’s a little shortcut we can use”? We already use little shortcuts — Auto-Tune is one. That’s not AI, but we’ve been using those kinds of tools, and there’s always the danger of overusing them. When people use Auto-Tune a tiny bit, it’s pretty much invisible. But on a lot of records — I’m not talking about the Cher record — it’s a little too perfect, and you start to lose the human connection. So it’s not a clear-cut choice of: Do I use this or not? It’s: Do I get seduced and use it too much?
Her Honor just needed to do more of the same: hail her own accomplishments, deliver well-timed zingers and keep as cool as a cucumber while baiting Raman into self-immolation.
Bass did none of that, while Raman stepped up the way she needed to.
This time, the challenger offered concrete answers instead of word salads. She mostly stuck to the allotted time limits while Bass repeatedly whined that she wasn’t given enough time. Raman effortlessly turned the mayor’s rhetorical traps around like Bugs Bunny twisting Elmer Fudd’s rifle right in his face.
Take the moment when Bass pointed out that Raman had missed the second-most votes among councilmembers during her six years in office. Raman responded that she missed many meetings while representing the city on the South Coast Air Quality Management District and other governmental boards. Bass’ clap-back — that Raman’s colleagues also had other official responsibilities yet “they find their way to work” — drew “ooohs” from the audience at the debate, put on by the Sherman Oaks Homeowners Assn.
If this were still the primary, Raman would have flustered her way to a non-answer. This time, she calmly said that she must not be such a bad councilmember, since Bass had appointed her to those boards.
“Well, we really need to look at that,” Bass stammered before asking Raman if she was “getting ready to resign” from them.
“I’m sorry?” Raman asked off mic as Bass challenged her to step down from all her boards. “No,” Raman then said firmly before shrugging and letting the moderator move on to the next question.
The moment was par for the mayor’s night.
Again and again, Bass went after Raman in the pettiest, most personal ways. She kept mocking the MIT graduate as a clueless egghead with no idea what’s going on in the city, stating twice that Raman governed as if L.A. were “an academic institution” — a line that sounded like a MAGA talking point and that was originally trotted out by Councilmember Imelda Padilla.
Bass tried to paint Raman as a member of an ineffectual city establishment, not a newcomer, which fell flat, considering that Bass has held one elected office or another for 22 years while Raman has been in politics only since 2020.
Bass frequently resorted to her trademark nervous laughter and repeated obviously crafted lines with all the enthusiasm of someone gulping down cod oil. Her furrowed brow and exasperated looks, which she had effectively used in previous debates, made her come off as embittered, tired and unable to defend the indefensible mess that has been her first term.
At one point, the mayor even compared street taco vendors to homeless encampments, with both supposedly disrupting the fabric of a well-run city.
Somewhere, Jonathan Gold is shaking his head in disgust.
“You have lots of plans and lots of ideas but have done very little,” Bass told Raman at another point.
And what have you done, Mayor Bass?
L.A. Mayor Karen Bass speaks with a woman after the end of a mayoral debate against challenger Nithya Raman in Sherman Oaks.
(David Butow/For the Times)
I’ve really tried to like Bass. Her trajectory from South L.A. activist to nonprofit founder to Sacramento, Washington and City Hall is impressive and important. Yet when Angelenos needed her to rise and succeed as their city faced one crisis after another during these past four years, Bass stumbled and stumbled again. Her flop of a debate performance left her sounding like someone with no vision or kindness — career suicide for someone who has made her reputation on both traits.
At this point, the architects of Bass’ campaign need to burn sage to drive out bad spirits or just bow out altogether. Any time something could go wrong, it has.
Bass placed first in the primary with 34% of the vote — an abysmal number for a Democratic incumbent in a deep blue city. Her campaign’s cynical gambit to boost washed-up reality TV star Spencer Pratt into the general election, because he’d be an easier opponent than Raman, failed. The Lineage fire in Boyle Heights brought back memories of the deadly Palisades inferno, angering a voting bloc Bass desperately needs — Latinos.
Then came news this week that a poll the Bass campaign had promoted, claiming that she held a commanding lead over Raman, turned out to be fake. Bass came out looking like someone incapable of overseeing paint dry, let alone running America’s second-largest city.
And now, this debate.
The audience, which was heavily pro-Bass, eventually started applauding more and more of Raman’s responses. Bass, desperate to trip up her opponent, talked over her so much that the councilmember responded with the line of the night and possibly the race:
“You gotta let me answer, Mayor Bass. This is my time.”
Raman still faces an uphill battle. Nearly all of the city’s power structure — elected officials, labor unions, the Los Angeles Police Protective League, business owners and even the three other democratic socialist councilmembers — has endorsed Bass. The mayor has outpaced Raman in fundraising. Raman has to win over voters who supported Pratt’s conservative stances while not alienating her progressive base. She did herself no favors with the Democratic Socialist of America’s local chapter, which didn’t endorse her in the primary and will decide next week whether to endorse her in the general election, by stating that the city needs to maintain the current size of its police force.
But in Wednesday night’s debate, she offered voters a distinct choice between how she would run L.A. and how Bass has.
Councilmember Nithya Raman speaks with staff and supporters after a mayoral debate with incumbent Karen Bass in Sherman Oaks.
(David Butow/For the Times)
All the mayor could sputter in her closing remarks was that Raman “does not have the support of [any] of her colleagues” — yet another line she had repeated ad nauseum.
When it was her turn, Raman said she keeps hearing from residents “that this city feels rudderless.”
“I have news for you, Angelenos. You’re right,” she continued. “No one is in charge right now.”
Then, instead of launching another fusillade against Bass, Raman went for something few people associate with L.A. nowadays:
Hope.
“You have every right to expect more from your city,” Raman proclaimed, her voice strong and clear. She urged Angelenos to “raise our expectations” of what’s possible and strive for a city that’s “affordable, functional, safe, joyful, ambitious.”
A few months ago, that would have sounded like the delusional ramblings of someone with no chance at winning. After tonight’s debate, Raman seems like L.A.’s final, best chance.
