Blog

  I was in a funeral procession yesterday for a man I have never met. George Floyd. A man who was killed by a police officer. Mr. Floyd was black. The police officer is white and had his knee on... Read More ›

That was sooo fun!!! D-Y-K-E what’s that spell? Dyke March!!! Dyke March Long Beach Drive March 2020!! did the regular route and then drove by elders who requested a drive-by ♡♡♡ two hours all over town ♡♡♡ We had 20 plus... Read More ›

In these United States and across the world we are in quarantine. Lockdown. Shelter in place. We’re alone together. And I miss it all: restaurants, coffee shops, movies, hanging out with friends in real time, But mostly I miss hugs—and... Read More ›

For this month’s blog my wife, the poet Kimberly Esslinger, and I have written a joint poem—   Walking in Moonlight Before the Pandemic   and what is done to the least of these…. Where is the god of woman.... Read More ›

In these United States we are wondering if a woman is electable. Is she likeable enough? I donate to a woman candidate and I have put a sign on my front lawn with a woman’s name on it. I’m a... Read More ›

Here we are at the fourth now annual Women’s March. I have done a photo essay of the March every year for Feminism and Religion (FAR), the first two from the Los Angeles March, and the last two from Orange... Read More ›

Make America Kind Again was my favorite poster slogan of every Women’s March. We’ve had three and will have a fourth soon, January 18. I’ll be there and hope I see this sign again. It’s a sign that maybe it... Read More ›

My neighbor gets up at 2 a.m. and is at work by 3:30 a.m. Six days a week. She works hard for the money* She works at a grocery store. She has two dogs and I have two dogs. Our... Read More ›

We protect ourselves by saying it wasn’t that bad. It only happened once, twice, when I was little, when I was older, when I was drunk, when I was the only one not drinking, when I was alone, when I... Read More ›

*with thanks to Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid’s Tale In The Handmaid’s Tale women don’t have their own names anymore. They whisper them to each other in order to re-member who they are: June, Moira… maybe even Lydia Their bodies aren’t... Read More ›