Tough Guys

"I believe in the idea of amnesty for those who have put down roots and lived here, even though some time back they may have entered illegally. " That was Ronald Reagan speaking during his 1984 reelection campaign. After that election, he stuck to his guns, signing an immigration reform law that allowed illegal immigrants to apply for residency if they could prove they'd lived in the country for five years, held jobs and committed no crimes. The law also called for tougher border enforcement, but its primary effect was to provide 3 million people with a path to legalization, and many of them eventually became citizens of the United States.

Tough guys do dance and sing. With two of Hollywood's biggest manly men now starring in the same film, there's a good chance that some of their male fans secretly wish they were seeing Wolverine versus Maximus. Instead, Hugh Jackman and Russell Crowe are foes in a battle of song in the musical “Les Misérables.” While both actors have made their mark playing heroes boasting super strength and bravado, plenty of moviegoers were surprised to see them singing operatic style with equal passion and grandeur.

Robert Beatty, 82, craggy-faced actor who played tough-guy film roles. A native of Hamilton, Canada, Beatty went to England in 1937 to train for acting. During World War II, he described the London blitz to Americans over the British Broadcasting Corp.'s North American service. Among his films were "Odd Man Out," "Captain Horatio Hornblower," "Something of Value," "2001: A Space Odyssey" and "Where Eagles Dare." On March 3 in London of pneumonia.

BEIJING - The men who barged through Shen Jianzhong's door probably thought it was a routine assignment: Break in and beat Shen's family into submission. Forced evictions to make way for real estate development are an everyday occurrence in China, and the family may have seemed no different from any in that situation. It was only after they forced open the door, threw Shen's wife to the ground and began to beat her that they learned the 38-year-old Shen and his 18-year-old son are kung fu masters.

Looking for elements of toughness, the Kings traded defenseman Darryl Sydor and a fifth-round draft pick in 1996 to the Dallas Stars on Saturday for defenseman Doug Zmolek, 25, and right wing Shane Churla, 30. Sydor, who had been the subject of trade rumors recently, had been wildly inconsistent since his promising rookie year when the Kings went to the Stanley Cup finals in 1992-93. King Coach Larry Robinson quickly grew frustrated with him this season, calling him a "time bomb."

Trash talk in the NFL never ends. After the Miami Dolphins defeated the Denver Broncos, 26-17, on Sunday, Dolphins linebacker Joey Porter called Broncos receiver Brandon Marshall "soft," someone who will "mope and cry" if he doesn't get the football. Tuesday, Marshall issued a response to reporters huddled around his locker.

They came all day long in bunches. And they left carrying bunches--of tulips, roses, lilies, daisies and freesias. For even the toughest, most manly and unsentimental among them, it was the day to give in to the tradition of gentle expressions through sweets and flowers.

At an early age, most boys are taught to defend themselves. It's a sad state of affairs that many master the art before learning to read, but that's the way it goes. My dad had his priorities straight--I did learn to read first--but I also remember his instructions on how to handle perceived "threats" in the world, such as my 8- and 9-year-old school chums. As my dad put it, it was important to know "how to take care of yourself."

Lawrence Tierney, a veteran character actor and onetime B-movie leading man whose two-fisted, tough-guy image on screen in the 1940s and '50s rivaled that of his off-screen personal life, has died. He was 82. Tierney, who suffered several strokes in recent years and had recent bouts with pneumonia, died in his sleep Tuesday during a brief stay at a Los Angeles nursing home.

Ray Sharkey, the hard-living actor who starred as a crime boss in the television series "Wiseguy," died of the complications of AIDS, his manager said Saturday. He was 40. Sharkey died Friday at Lutheran Hospital in Brooklyn, N.Y., said Herb Nanas. He had been in Southern California until a week ago when he returned home to New York. "Doctors said he was supposed to pass away six to eight months ago. He put up the most extraordinary battle," Nanas said.

MOSCOW - He slowly descended the stairs to the courtyard, his handgun loaded with 12 rounds. Seven armed comrades stood in the windows behind him. At the bottom, a drunk and angry crowd of 5,000 threatened to storm the building. Just moments before, they had looted the Dresden office of the feared East German secret police next door. It was shortly after the fall of Berlin Wall in October 1989. The Soviet KGB Dresden station chief had run away, leaving his deputy, a lieutenant colonel, in command.

LAS VEGAS - Lisa Medford looks playfully vampy in black stretch pants and a pink top showing just a hint of cleavage. Once a dancer, she moves gracefully about her tiny house like an actress in search of an audience. Now 74, she's an aging siren, still on her game, happily living alone in a suburban retirement community. Sure, she's getting on in years, but her spirit still soars with all those memories - the sheer naughtiness of her past. She keeps a life-size cutout of herself as a 19-year-old, when she says she became the first standing semi-nude showgirl in town, a gig that launched her career as a "Folies Bergere" show dancer and actress.

The death of CBS News' pit-bull reporter Mike Wallace marks not only the passing of a broadcast lion but in many ways also the brand of journalism he helped to define. Wallace, 93, died late Saturday at a care center in New Canaan, Conn., where he had been staying for the last few years. CBS plans an hourlong tribute to Wallace and his career on "60 Minutes" next Sunday. In announcing his death, CBS lauded the brazen tactics that it said had made Wallace a household name "synonymous with the tough interview -- a style he practically invented for television more than half a century ago. " "All of us at CBS News and particularly at '60 Minutes' owe so much to Mike," Jeff Fager, chairman of CBS News and a longtime executive producer of "60 Minutes," said in a statement released Sunday.

As the self-described "black hat" of television's premier newsmagazine "60 Minutes," Mike Wallace crafted a persona of a probing reporter known for his often caustic questioning of sometimes reluctant guests on the program. Beginning in 1968, as one of the first hosts of the enduringly popular news show, he circled the globe, displaying his charm and wit and asking sometimes barbed, always penetrating questions of kings and presidents, business magnates and bureaucrats, entertainers and cultural personalities.

It figured to be one of those welcome to L.A. interviews, the scary, animated and intimidating tattoo that is Kenyon Martin saying, "Why don't you put on your basketball shoes, come on the court and I will run right through you. " I think that was after I said hello. You hear about this thug now playing for the Clippers, the run-in he had with a radio guy in Denver, his suspension at halftime of a playoff game for getting into it with Denver Coach George Karl , and more Karl bashing this week.

The Clippers need to chill. The Clippers need to stop acting like some young new movie star who feels it necessary to prove his street cred by trashing hotel rooms and tossing bouncers. So far this season, the Clippers are the best team in Los Angeles and one of the best teams in the NBA's Western Conference, a talented and energetic group, legitimate contenders who could play deep into spring. Now they need to start behaving like it. Now that they are in the process of erasing the traditional Clippers jinx off their resume, they need to lose the traditional Clippers chip off their shoulder and stop turning Lob City into Lob Alley.

Edward Binns, a sturdy, gravel-voiced character actor who portrayed police, spies and an assortment of other tough guys in a career that ranged from classical drama to episodic television, is dead. Binns died Tuesday of a heart attack at his home in Warren, Conn., his wife, actress Elizabeth Franz, told the Associated Press. Binns, also known professionally as Ed Binns, was 74. Born in Philadelphia, he graduated from Pennsylvania State University before beginning a dramatic career.

In political debates, we look for how well a candidate will articulate his (or her) position. Tonight we'll be watching the match-up between Michael Dukakis and George Bush with something different in mind; as Butch Cassidy said to the Sundance Kid in the face of a thundering, baleful fate, "Who are these guys?" The Hollywood reference is not accidental.

"I believe in the idea of amnesty for those who have put down roots and lived here, even though some time back they may have entered illegally. " That was Ronald Reagan speaking during his 1984 reelection campaign. After that election, he stuck to his guns, signing an immigration reform law that allowed illegal immigrants to apply for residency if they could prove they'd lived in the country for five years, held jobs and committed no crimes. The law also called for tougher border enforcement, but its primary effect was to provide 3 million people with a path to legalization, and many of them eventually became citizens of the United States.

Sure, he's best known as the steely nerved Wild West lawman who faced down the bad guys at the O.K. Corral. But Wyatt Earp may have had a soft and sentimental side too. Brothers Keith and Brian Collins say they discovered Earp's personal photo album while picking through a Hesperia antique shop. Inside the worn, leather-bound album were more than two dozen tiny tintype and carte de visite pictures showing Earp as a child, a teenager and a young adult, they say. They say the album also contains photos of his mother and pictures of two of his three wives.