Michael Olesker

Mayor Scott’s end-of-the-year report on the state of the city misses the point, writes Michael Olesker.

For young men growing up in the 1950s, the late Brigitte Bardot transcended cultural lines and sexual norms, writes Michael Olesker.

A time will come when the antics and observations of President Trump will no longer amuse the majority of Americans, writes Michael Olesker.

Why does the highest court in the land seem to be smack dab in the back pocket of Donald Trump, wonders Michael Olesker.

Michael Olesker pays tribute to the recently departed Joe Brune, his old homeroom teacher who coached at Baltimore City College and Loyola.

President Trump’s latest reversal on releasing the Epstein files is a sign of sheer desperation, writes Michael Olesker.

Michael Olesker joined other movie fans saddened by Robert Redford’s death back in September. But it was more than that. After all, he and Redford were family.

The president’s insistence on a stadium named in his honor reveals an ego desperately out of control, writes Michael Olesker.

A City Hall ceremony over the weekend reminded Baltimoreans of how little progress the city has made in recent decades, writes Michael Olesker.