paid

CHICAGO — Before she had toppled the moneyed and the mighty, back when perhaps a dozen people thought she had a chance to be a U.S. senator, Carol Moseley Braun went to Washington to drum up support for her ragtag campaign.

Waiting in the drafty outer hallways of power, she was treated like a poor relation. And the results were pathetic.

The official gatekeepers of money and political advice simply dismissed Braun and her candidacy for the Democratic Senate nomination from Illinois, recalls Tony Podesta, a college friend who is now is a Washington political consultant. He walked her through receptions, and she got nothing more than a few polite hellos. And although established women’s groups said, “Right on, keep going,” they kept their pocketbooks closed.

“Talk about your underdogs,” Podesta says, laughing. “I couldn’t even find a professional fund-raiser who she could pay to work for her.”

But with no organization, little money and a quintessentially Chicago political title as the Cook County Recorder of Deeds, Braun knocked out a three-term senator, Alan J. Dixon, in the March 17 Democratic primary.

This week, Braun went back to Washington for money and backing. And this time, it was the difference between the Prince and the Pauper.

With the head of the Illinois State Democratic Party in tow, she met with party powerbrokers, including Senate Majority Leader George J. Mitchell of Maine and Massachusetts Sen. Edward M. Kennedy. All are members of the white man’s club she ran against, but the reception was ecstatic.

Such is the nature of power in Washington. Braun had just eliminated one of their entrenched cohorts, “Al the Pal” Dixon, 64, who has been winning elections for 42 years. But now she stands a fair chance of making history as a double outsider: If she wins against Republican nominee Richard Williamson in November, she’ll be the first black woman in the Senate and only the fourth black to serve in that august chamber.

Although she dismisses political post-mortems that credit anything but her determination, there is evidence she was also buoyed by luck, timing and a third candidate, Al Hofeld, a 55-year-old personal-injury attorney who spent $4.5 million of his own personally injuring Dixon in negative TV advertisements.

“I think it’s fair to say that if this were hockey, Hofeld would get an assist,” quips Hofeld’s media consultant, David Axelrod.

Braun may have had one other unlikely man on her team: Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas. In fact, without him she might never have entered the race.

Last autumn she was so disgusted by the tone and substance of the Senate Judiciary Committee hearings on Thomas’ nomination to the high court–before and after the allegations of sexual harassment by Prof. Anita Hill–that she decided it was time to break into the men’s club on Capitol Hill.

“I was completely focused on how badly the process had failed,” she says. “If the Senate had done its job right from the start, we all would have been spared the mess. And who were these guys anyway? Where were the women, the minorities and the regular working people?”

She said as much, twice, on a public television talk show and was overwhelmed with letters, phone calls and friends urging her to take on Dixon, who had voted for Thomas. After several meetings, Chicago women activists identified three potential female candidates to challenge Dixon; it was decided that Braun, a University of Chicago Law School graduate who had served 10 years in the state Legislature, had the best qualifications and the best shot.

But she was not a shrinking violet thrust forward into the limelight. Now 44, she has been in the cut and thrust of Chicago politics since her early 20s, and she knew the risks. When a friend warned her that she could be a sacrificial lamb, she reportedly retorted: “If the best my party can do for me is recorder of deeds, then I don’t care about the future.”

With the backing of a coalition of women activists, suburban liberals and her most critical base, blacks throughout Chicago, Braun garnered 38% of the vote compared to Dixon’s 35% and Hofeld’s 28%. Less than two weeks before the upset, Braun had been 12 percentage points behind Dixon.

Hers was a last-minute sprint that came together through a confluence of events, including a television debate in which Hofeld hammered Dixon for his conservative voting record. For the first time, a broader spectrum of the public saw Braun demonstrate her speaking savvy and natural warmth.

In addition, Gloria Steinem came twice to Chicago on Braun’s behalf, attracting attention and contributions to the campaign. And the network of liberals in the suburbs–mostly white women–mounted a word-of-mouth effort to turn Braun into a winner.

In fact, women did well up and down the ballot in the Illinois primary. “I think women, more than men, are convincing elements of change,” says Axelrod. “That will give Carol an edge in November.”

But the “women’s vote” has never materialized consistently in past elections, and it’s still too early to tell whether Braun can make a convincing argument in November that she is a “change agent,” as Washington insiders are fond of saying.

“She’s got to broaden her base beyond blacks and some women and focus, focus, focus, on economic issues,” advise Axelrod and others.

Both Braun and Williamson are positioning themselves as outraged outsiders and setting each other up as a symbol of what catapulted America into an economic morass.

“The fundamental difference between my opponent and myself is that she has made her living for the past 14 years as a career politician and voted 13 times to raise taxes,” says Williamson, 42, a partner in a Chicago law firm who serves on President Bush’s General Advisory Committee on Arms Control.

Speaking from a car phone as he made an eight-city campaign swing last weekend, he added: “I’m not saying it’s always evil to be a career politician–George Bush certainly is. It’s just among the elements that makes differences between my opponent and myself so stark.”

Although exhausted from her sudden status as a political phenomenon–already she’s done “Nightline” and the “Today” show–Braun last week offered her assessment of those differences:

“He’s a typical Reaganite and will have to answer for the policies of the new federalism that screwed up this country. He was part of it.”

Braun doesn’t expect this race to be more challenging than the primary seemed last November–but she does see land mines.

“It’ll be a tough race only to the extent that Williamson (who is white) plays the racial card, directly or subtly, by manipulating symbols like talking about my views on welfare reform,” she says.

Illinois has elected blacks statewide, but many more have been defeated. “If the election was held next week, she’d probably win because of the post-primary euphoria around her,” says Don Rose, a Chicago political consultant. “But we have a way to go, and we don’t know how the wild card–race–plays, and we don’t know how the national ticket plays.”

Williamson insists that he’ll fire anyone in his campaign who uses racism to attack his opponent.

“I won’t hold my opponent accountable for the race of her parents if she doesn’t hold me accountable for the race of mine,” says Williamson, who grew up and lives with his wife and three children on Chicago’s wealthy North Shore.

As he describes it, Williamson has spent most of his career in “public service,” although he has never run for office. He was an aide to the most conservative congressman in the Illinois delegation, Rep. Philip Crane, and later worked for the Reagan Administration as intergovernmental affairs director and for the Bush campaign in 1988.

A fiscal conservative who has etched out more moderate positions on social issues, Williamson is known as an intellectual who reads Hermann Hesse and gives windy speeches on public policy.

So far, he says, his status as a novice campaigner has created the biggest hurdles for him in formulating positions on the spot. For example, while the former Princeton University religion major personally opposes abortion, he decided after consulting “with my wife and others” that he was pro-choice–although he does not support federal funding for abortion. If Roe vs. Wade is overturned, Williamson would support legalizing abortion. But when asked how that law should be defined, on a state or federal level, he bristled: “I’m not going to say any more; I think (reporters) are more interested in this subject than the public.”

The Braun-Williamson competition is as much a horse race for the locals made blase by the oddities of Chicago politics as it is for the national touts who haven’t seen its like since Shirley Chisholm ran for President in the 1970s.

Already, local pundits are joking on the radio that for the first time the Bridgeport neighborhood, home to the late Mayor Richard J. Daley and his son Richard M., the current mayor, may support a black candidate.

“Carol will get the vote,” says the radio announcer, “because Daley wants her out of town and safe in Washington, where she can’t run for mayor.”

The daughter of a policeman and a medical worker, Braun grew up in Hyde Park, an integrated neighborhood near the University of Chicago, admiring such women as Amelia Earhart and Bessie Coleman, a black aviator. After graduating from law school, Braun married a classmate and joined a Republican-controlled federal prosecutor’s office.

Her initiation into politics came in 1977, when she was pushing her young son in his stroller on Hyde Park Boulevard and ran into Kay Clement, a neighbor. Clement was on a search committee to find a replacement for Robert Mann, a well-known liberal state legislator who was among a group that called itself the “Kosher Nostra” and prided itself on being a constant burr in the elder Daley’s side. Clement asked Braun if she’d run.

“She was well-spoken, congenial, and I thought she had the character to continue on in the tradition of us Young Turks,” recalls Mann, now retired.

Braun served 10 years in the Illinois House, eventually becoming assistant majority leader and Chicago Mayor Harold Washington’s floor leader in the mid-1980s.

In the Legislature, she dealt with Democratic politics skillfully but not always defiantly, which angered some of her radical black supporters. Similarly, she riled her white liberal cohorts at times and had problems with Mayor Washington when she formed alliances with his enemies and attempted to run without his approval for lieutenant governor.

“Carol is an ambitious woman, and that’s a sin in our society,” says Mann. “It’s OK for everybody else to be trading horses, making deals, being rainmakers–but not her.”

Braun left the Legislature to be the Chicago recorder of deeds in part to spend more time closer to home; she had been divorced and had a young son and an ill mother to care for.

As an administrator, she updated the deeds system with modern technology and created committees to eliminate patronage. Speaking of the deeds office, a Realtors association spokesman recently told the Chicago Tribune: “It’s not a dungeon anymore. You don’t have to carry your own candle.”

But the administration of Braun’s grass-roots primary campaign did not win as much praise; several members of her staff quit amid reports of conflict over the leadership of campaign manager Kgosie Matthews. And although Braun is likely to draw on the Chicago Establishment, organization is considered her weak point.

Kay Clement, who is on Braun’s committee, says the candidate has confidence in Matthews but plans to bring in more professionals once the money starts rolling in–which is expected at any moment.

Emily’s List, a fund-raising group for women Democratic candidates, gave $5,000 to Braun in the last weeks of the primary campaign and has vowed to support her further. “We will be in the mail for her in the next two weeks and plan to raise an incredible amount of money for her,” vows Ellen Malcolm, the group’s president.

And Chicago women such as Susan P. Kezio are determined that this time around, Braun will get the full respect due her in her hometown.

Kezio, 37, founder of the company Women in Franchising, says she tried during the primary to get Braun as a lunchtime speaker at the city’s Rotary One, the first Rotary Club in America.

“After Dixon spoke to us, I ran up to our director and proudly said, ‘Hey, I can get Carol Moseley Braun to speak,’ ” Kezio recalls. The director suggested they wait until after the primary. Then, a few weeks later, Hofeld came to speak.

Kezio was furious. She complained to the director, who said Hofeld had asked to address the Rotarians and Braun hadn’t. Apparently, Kezio’s request for Braun hadn’t registered.

But this week, according to Kezio, the Rotary director hunted down Braun and eagerly invited her to be a speaker. She said she’d be honored.

“Believe me,” Kezio says, “this time nobody is going to ignore Carol Moseley Braun.”

A poignant tribute has been paid to a forgotten Blue Peter star, who died at the age of 28 after a brave health battle. The presenter wowed both on screen and on stage

Tributes have been paid to a talented Blue Peter presenter who was sacked before his tragic death.

At just 12-years-old, Michael Sundin had already become a trampolining champion, a talent that would prove instrumental in securing his position as a Blue Peter presenter in 1984.

Prior to joining the beloved children’s show, Michael had performed in Andrew Lloyd Webber’s acclaimed musical Cats before going on to portray Tik-Tok in Disney’s Return To Oz.

He caught the attention of Blue Peter producers while being interviewed by the programme’s then-presenter Janet Ellis, resulting in his appointment alongside her and Simon Groom.

Taking over from the show’s celebrated presenter Peter Duncan, Michael swiftly gained recognition for his adventurous exploits on Blue Peter, covering film sets and even paying a visit to Elton John’s residence.

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However, despite his natural screen presence, Michael’s stint on Blue Peter proved brief; he departed the programme after less than a year, allegedly when his contract wasn’t renewed. He then heartbreakingly passed away from an Aids-related illness aged just 28, in 1989.

Michael, fondly recalled by those close to him as a “blond, outgoing, gregarious ball of fun”, was cruelly outed by the media as gay during his short tenure on Blue Peter.

While then-Editor Biddy Baxter attributed his departure to lack of viewer appeal, his exit became mired in scandal as numerous sources suggested it stemmed from his sexuality, OK! reports.

During a 2007 television interview, Baxter dismissed these allegations, stating: “It was his leaving the programme because children didn’t like him – nothing to do with his sexual proclivities”.

After leaving Blue Peter, Michael went on to pursue acting, featuring in the 1987 film Lionheart. He performed in touring stage shows including Seven Brides For Seven Brothers and Starlight Express, and made an appearance in Rick Astley’s 1988 music video for She Wants To Dance With Me. Tragically, that same year Michael became unwell. He passed away at Newcastle General Hospital aged just 28, with initial reports suggesting his death was caused by liver cancer.

This week, The Elstree Project paid a poignant tribute to Michael’s talents as they looked back on his role as Tik-Tok. They wrote: “Michael Sundin was the performer inside Tik-Tok in Return to Oz (1985). His contribution was not animatronic control or puppetry, but full-body suit performance: movement, balance, timing and physical character, carried out under extreme physical and technical constraints.

“Tik-Tok was a hybrid creation. His head, eyes and facial details were operated externally by puppeteer Tim Rose using mechanical and radio-controlled systems, while the voice was added later in post-production. But the character’s weight, rhythm and locomotion came entirely from Sundin. He was responsible for making a rigid, four-foot copper robot feel grounded, deliberate and alive.

“The physical challenge was extraordinary. Sundin was folded double inside a small Kevlar suit, arms crossed, head tucked between his legs, walking backwards throughout filming. To navigate the set, he relied on a small internal monitor relaying an external camera feed — upside-down and reversed. This demanded constant recalibration, spatial intelligence and muscular control.”

Meanwhile, the programme’s oral history director, Walter Murch, said: “When Michael Sundin died in 1989 from an AIDS-related illness, aged just 28, there was only a small on-air acknowledgement of his passing on Blue Peter with no retrospective of his work in the way other presenters have been respected. In an era marked by stigma and silence, much of his contribution was quietly erased, and he was notably absent from anniversary clips and montages until the 60th anniversary.

“Sundin’s work on Return to Oz deserves to be understood clearly. He was not an animatronics operator or a puppeteer, but a suit performer whose body performed in a complex system of mechanical, electronic and human collaboration. Without his performance, Tik-Tok would not move as he does on screen. As we celebrate the technical innovations that took shape at Elstree, it’s worth remembering how many depended on performers willing to endure extraordinary conditions to make new forms of cinema possible.”

Following Michael’s passing, Blue Peter presenter Yvette Fielding paid tribute, joined by colleagues John Leslie and Caron Keating. She said: “We had one piece of very sad news during the summer. As many people may have heard, Michael Sundin – who presented Blue Peter five years ago – tragically died at the very young age of 28. Michael had been ill for a little while but the news of his death came as a great shock to all of us.”

The Mirror’s Milo Boyd went to check out a chicken and chips restaurant owned by a 80s hit maker

It seems like the celebrity world and his dog are getting in on the restaurant and pub game at the moment.

There is, of course, Ian McKellen’s The Grapes, James Blunt’s Fox and Pheasant, rugby legend Gavin Henson’s The Fox and even Bertie Blossoms, which is owned by Ed Sheeran.

The reason why stars are investing in the world of food and drink isn’t completely clear, as least from the outside. The restaurant industry is notoriously difficult to make money in, and celebrity-owned restaurants have a chequered history. Planet Hollywood launched in 1991 to great fanfare, thanks to its famous investors, including Bruce Willis, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and Sylvester Stallone. However, it filed for bankruptcy just a few years later. It was followed shortly after by Fashion Cafe, an international restaurant chain fronted by Naomi Campbell and Claudia Schiffer.

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Gemma Krysko, co-director of Manchester-based PR agency We Are Indigo, argues that celebrities who don’t attach their names or faces to hospitality ventures have the best chance of success. Which might sound counterintuitive, given their personal brands are what they trade off.

“People like the authenticity of a restaurant being owned by a family or an independent, or someone who’s working really hard to do well in life and have some success. Sometimes, when people already have a successful background or are quite well off do something, it might feel like it’s a bit tacky,” she told Vice.

Mikkeller is a bar brand with more than 250 branches across 37 countries, so it’s far from an independent joint. However, two of its London venues are the quiet work of 80s musical icon, Rick Astley. You would be forgiven for not knowing that the ‘Never going to give you up’ hitmaker was involved if you just walked past Mikkeller Bar London in Shoreditch or its sister brewpub in Exmouth Market.

The latter looks right at home on the trendy street, with its striped yellow awning, rust-effect signage and space for beer drinkers to spill out front when the sun is shining. It was not like that when I visited in January, to shelter from the rain and to try out the 40 million record-selling artist’s fare.

The two-floor venue contains a bar and restaurant, as well as a brewery that can produce 7.5 hectoliters of beer at a time. The in-house brewery supplies the bar with completely fresh beer, as well as infusing the space with the comforting aroma of malt and hops. I appreciated dining beneath the large, chrome-brushed beer silos and the slightly dramatic towers of stacked potato sacks, which lent the place a feeling, even if the concept of an exposed, Pompidou Centre-style pub feels a little 2010s at this point.

Sadly, the menu doesn’t include any Astley-based Easter eggs (or at least not any I could find), but it does feature a wide range of delicious beers. A pint of Freshly Squeezed IPA for me, and Lucky Saint on draft for my Dry January friend, knocked us back £14.30 in total. Which is pretty much standard in this part of London.

Those with better knowledge of the Lancashire crooner’s back catalogue may be able to glean some hint of Astley in the current drinks list, which includes: Grand, Market Best, Never Enough, Jerry the Berry, Grandma’s Fridge Cake, DDH PCP, Market Weiss, Wonky Chi, Mic Drop, Common Ground, Black Pearl, Beech Life and The Golden Rule. What was conspicuously absent was the singer’s own brew, ginger-infused lager Astley’s Northern Hop.

There is not a huge amount in Astley’s working life beyond music – which includes providing a voice for The LEGO Batman Movie, as a fundraiser for cancer charity Maggie’s Centers and driving for his dad’s market-gardening business – to suggest he’d gone into the chicken and chips business. Or that he’d do it so well.

But both happen to be true. Mikkeller’s food is delicious and good value.

Three of us ate for £55 and left feeling stuffed and satisfied. This is more than I can say for my trip to James Blunt’s pub early in January, when the eye-watering prices meant I chose my bank balance over satiation. For that price in Astley’s place, we got two portions of crinkle cut fries, crispy plant nuggets, a vegan fried chick’n sandwich, and two meaty chicken sandos.

Both types of sandwich were made on a bed of brioche ‘Texas toast’ and stuffed alongside ‘Comeback Sauce’, pickles and vinegar slaw. Clearly, Mikkeller has embraced the latest advances in fake meat production technology as the chick’n had all the crisp, bounce, and tenderness you can hope for from something that has spent no time in a coop. The chicken version was similarly “excellent”, my companions informed me. Other menu options include chicken parm, Caesar salad, and fried chicken strips.

Mikkeller is unlikely to win any awards for restaurant innovation anytime soon. It’s a place that, stylistically, has more in common with Five Guys and Brew Dog than one of the cosy celebrity-owned pubs mentioned above. But what it is, is a spacious, fairly central London brewpub with a great, reasonably priced menu that’s perfect for a spot of Saturday afternoon indulgence.

A man who refused to move from a plane seat he had paid extra for shared details of the encounter, with people online backing his decision

Taking a long-haul flight can be deeply uncomfortable, but securing a decent seat has the power to transform the entire journey.

For those unable to afford the indulgence of first class, extra legroom in economy is arguably the closest alternative.

After shelling out extra cash for additional legroom on a gruelling 12-hour flight, one man stood his ground and refused to swap seats for an elderly couple who attempted to claim his spot.

Sharing his experience on popular forum Reddit, the man admitted he endured dirty looks from fellow passengers after declining to budge from the seat he’d paid for.

Titling the post, the Reddit user wrote: “Old couple try to take our seats on a plane.”

The man detailed: “Saw a few plane seat-related posts so I thought I would add my story.

“A few years ago my significant other and I planned a three-month trip around the world. Our first flight was from New Zealand-LA. 12-13 hours.”

“We booked and paid for our flights and I added the premium economy seats as I’m 6’3 and wanted the extra legroom. Cost an extra $60 (£50).

“This flight was with Air New Zealand, the screen has your name on it when you get to your seat.

“We get on the plane. Find our seats and there is this older couple sitting there (mid 70s). I ask them if they got confused with their seat numbers. They hadn’t.

“I show them my ticket and seat number and point to my name on the screen. They then ask me just sit in their seats which were ten rows back. No leg room.”

After the elderly pair refused to budge from the seats, the man insisted they return to their allocated places as he had “paid extra”.

The man eplained the exchange: “Me: You want me to sit in your seats?”.

“OP(old people): Yes, that would be nice thank you.

“Me: I paid extra for these seats and would like to sit in them. Please move to your seats.

“OP: Oh, it’s not that bad there’s plenty of legroom.

“Me: Yeah, there’s plenty of legroom in my seats because I paid for it. I’ll help move your bag if you need.”

During their discussion, a flight attendant intervened to find out what was happening as a lengthy queue had formed down the aisle.

The exchange continued: “OP: This man wants us to move seats!”.

“Flight attendant: Sir, please go to your allocated seats.

“Me: Here is my ticket, these people are sitting in my seats. I paid extra because I need the legroom.

“FA to old people: Excuse me, you will have to move to your own seats as you have not paid for these seats.

“Old people: Well, can we please have an upgrade?”.

“FA: Sorry, this is a full flight so that’s not possible.”

The man said: “I got some stink eyes from other people on the flight. I paid for the extra legroom and I need it.”

Taking to the comments section, Reddit users weighed in on the contentious incident.

One said: “I have no idea why the other people who paid extra for legroom would glare at this guy.”

Meanwhile, another person added: “This isn’t a two hour flight where you buck up for the good of old people, which is still not right given the social experience that is flying – I wouldn’t care if it was a two hour flight there is still the principle of the matter, but I may cave depending on my mood.”

They said: “12-13 hours is no joke though – there is no giving in. You move those people or the plane doesn’t take off!”.

Last year, Spotify paid out more than $11 billion to the music industry, bringing the company’s total payouts since launch to nearly $70 billion.

The milestone year reflected the “largest annual payment to music from any retailer in history,” the company announced on Wednesday in a post. In 2025, Spotify’s payout amount grew by over 10%, making the Sweden-based streamer one of the industry’s main revenue drivers.

“Big, industry-wide numbers can feel abstract, but that growth is showing up in tangible ways,” wrote Charlie Hellman, the company’s new head of music. “Despite rampant misinformation about how streaming is working today, the reality is that this is an era full of more success stories and promise than at any point in history.”

When music streaming was first introduced, there was some controversy about how much artists earn from streams. According to Spotify, independent artists and labels accounted for half of all royalties. Additionally, the company said there are currently more artists earning over $100,000 a year from Spotify alone than were getting stocked on shelves at the height of the compact disc era.

Founded in 2006, the company, with a large presence in L.A.’s Arts District, has become the world’s most popular audio streaming subscription service. The platform offers access to over 100 million tracks, podcasts and audiobooks in over 180 markets.

At the top of the year, founder Daniel Ek moved from his CEO position to become executive chairman. Spotify named two co-CEOs, Gustav Söderström and Alex Norström, in his place.

This month, Spotify raised prices for its premium subscribers in the U.S., bringing the costto $12.99 per month. Hellman disclosed that as Spotify’s audience continues to grow, the higher prices are designed to help with the company’s ongoing expansion. According to the post, Spotify makes up roughly 30% of recorded music revenue and pays out two-thirds of all music revenue to the industry. The other third gets invested back into the company to maintain an “unrivaled listening experience.”

Recently, the streamer has been focused on growing its podcasting division by opening a new recording studio in Hollywood, premiering several shows in partnership with Netflix and expanding its creator monetization program.

Separately, Spotify said it is hoping to counter new developments in AI by reinforcing a human connection between artists and fans. This includes an emphasis on more artist-powered videos, continuing to promote artists’ live shows on the platform and expanding the role of the company’s music curators. The streamer also has plans to crack down on AI-driven artists on the platform.

“AI is being exploited by bad actors to flood streaming services with low-quality slop to game the system and attempt to divert royalties away from authentic artists,” said Hellman. “We’re going to introduce changes to the systems for artist verification, song credits, and protecting artist identity. It’s critical to ensuring listeners and rightsholders can trust who made the music they’re hearing.”