Rejoice, by Pat Gourley

“Privilege is when you think something is not a problem because it’s not a problem for you.” 

Margaret Sala, Twitter – May 7th, 2016

Definitions of rejoice include showing great joy or delight. For me personally this is something I find impossible following the results of the presidential election on November 8th. I refuse to look for any silver lining and do not accept Donald Trump as my president. To accept the fact that he is now the country’s leader and that this requires support with an effort to get behind him for the greater good would mean to me at least a passive acceptance of all that is so odious about him.

It is no consolation to me that he may very well not have any firm beliefs or policy formulations around anything that he is not capable flipping and flopping on. He is definitely dragging into positions of power lots of folks who are very sure of their beliefs: misogyny, racism, xenophobia and homophobia. I also fear the influence and power of Mike Pence maybe more so that Trump. Trump is a showman and con artist, Pence a zealot.

Though I do not rule out street activism on my part, those days are mostly decades gone by. I am thinking about how best to engage in active resistance to this pestilence. Compromise only congers up the great Jim Hightower and his observation that the middle of the road is only for yellow stripes and dead armadillos.

Now nearly two weeks out from the catastrophe of November 8th I am still waking up thinking maybe this was all a bad dream and then it hits me that it wasn’t and the miasma sets in again. One of my greatest fears is that something untoward might happen to Trump or more likely that he will resign for some trumped up reason or the other before his first term ends. Lets face it the actuarial tables for a 70 year old, overweight, habitual steak eater are not really very good. Those have got to be some gummed up president-elect coronary arteries.

With Trump out of the picture though Mike Pence becomes president and it might then really be time for all women of reproductive age and queers of all stripes to head north for the Canadian border. Despite the disheartening estimate that about 14% of LGBTQ voters actually voted for Trump we may though be the one minority with a unique opportunity to stay in the country and resist.

Over the past 40 years we queer folk have become quite uppity and unlike many other minorities, especially religious and racial, we truly are everywhere. Even if we don’t live in large numbers in rural rust belt settings we still might have biological family there and the coming out process has and will continue to usually have positive impact on the hetero family members left behind. Having lived for years in Manhattan perhaps Trump has realized the power of the queer community and that is why he was interestingly silent on trashing us during his campaign. That analysis though certainly begs the question when you look at his selection of the likes of Bannon, Pence and Sessions.

So I am actually emerging somewhat from the funk and looking about as to how I can productively resist. A free press remains vital. I am donating again with a bit more this year to Democracy Now and I hope to have enough at the end of the year to send a few coins to Paul Jay and The Real News based out of Baltimore. And of course a donation to Planned Parenthood in Mike Pence’s name. That gets him a note from Planned Parenthood thanking him for his support.

And finally, though I am sure many other ways to be a resistance fighter will appear, I am renewing my personal commitment to a vegan way of eating, something that has proven very difficult for me to stick with in the past. The biggest blow to the planet and the survival of much of sentient life in the not so long run may come from Trump’s denial of climate change and the carbon binging hordes he is going to unleash. I will encourage other friends to take a look at the meatless option as a great personal action that does more to decrease one’s carbon footprint than any other action – we really don’t need to be eating one million chickens an hour in this country – really a million an hour.

Please take the time to watch this You Tube video by Neil Barnard my longtime diet guru: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lLqINF26LSA

And I hope to see you all at the barricades chowing down on a veggie-burrito or at least on occasion in the fruit and vegetable aisle of any grocery store.

November 2016

About the Author

I was born in La Porte, Indiana in 1949, raised on a farm and schooled by Holy Cross nuns. The bulk of my adult life, some 40 plus years, was spent in Denver, Colorado as a nurse, gardener and gay/AIDS activist. I have currently returned to Denver after an extended sabbatical in San Francisco, California.

Not the Apocalypse, by Louis Brown

Why Donald Trump getting elected POTUS is not the Apocalypse or End of Days, as so many liberals claim:

(1) Most Democratic politicians and rank and file Dems. are “devastated” by DT’s victory. I’m not.

(2) When I could not vote for Bernie Sanders, I chose Jill Stein. But even she is overreacting in her revulsion for DT.

(3) DT claimed, for example, he is going to impose tariffs on products, especially on automobiles that are imported here from foreign countries especially when those products could/should have been produced here. Buy American!

(4) The allegedly pro-Labor Democrats claim that protectionism is in the long run counterproductive because it impedes free trade. Well, yes, when so-called free trade make companies profitable, which it does do, 99.9% of the profits, however, go to the upper 1/10 of 1% of the population. The American working class gets unemployed and impoverished on a massive scale.

(5) Also, DT has hinted that he is going to adopt Rand Paul’s isolationist foreign policy. If he does, that means peace for a change. All we are saying is give peace a chance. What is the actual difference between left-wing pacifism and rightwing isolationism anyway?

(6) DT said he will do business with Bernie Sanders when the time comes.

(7) Most everyone has noticed that Hillary Clinton goes to war at the drop of a hat while Barack Obama has fallen head over heel in love with perpetual war in Afghanistan. The American people do not want this war at least not forever. If HC got into office again, it would have meant more and bigger wars and endless hostile trade deals.

(8) In other words, DT is promising (at least) important concessions to the real liberal left. We should be gratified not “devastated.”

(9) Over my life time, I have been told that protectionism and isolationism are unworkable and extremely destructive in the long run. Considering everything, this is exactly what we desperately need right now.

(10) Did you notice that Hillary Clinton’s campaign attracted the approval and support of three undesirables: Meg Whitman, Michael Bloomberg and Henry Kissinger? That should make you suspicious. “Be afraid, be very afraid!” as Rachel Maddow puts it.

(11) Bernie Sanders heroically and ultimately unsuccessfully tried to dissuade HC from courting the favor of Wall Street and its leaders. I think Bernie Sanders should think in terms of starting a third political party, he should abandon the sinking ship that is and will be soon be the “new” conservative Democratic Party, as it becomes more bellicose and hostile to American working people, the Dem. Party will, next election, definitely shrink dramatically in size and influence.

(12) I thought the election campaign went on too long; the word “hate” was used much too often.

(13) Of course, Hillary Clinton did get more votes than DT, yet DT is going to be President. That does seem unfair.

(14) Anti-Trump Democrats repeated endlessly that DT was a racist and hated and disrespected women. Personally that did not ring true at least not to my ears. DT is not a racist and he does not hate women. In fact, in general, DT seems broad-minded and willing to negotiate.

(15) My elder and elderly brother, until this last election, voted Democratic, Democratic, Democratic in almost all Presidential elections. In this past election, he voted for DT. DT appears to be actually less of a rightwing reactionary than Hillary, if he follows through with his campaign promises. If he does keep his promises, he will be reelected easily 4 years from now.

© 12 November 2016

About the Author

I was born in 1944, I lived most of my life in New York City, Queens County. I still commute there. I worked for many years as a Caseworker for New York City Human Resources Administration, dealing with mentally impaired clients, then as a social work Supervisor dealing with homeless PWA’s. I have an apartment in Wheat Ridge, CO. I retired in 2002. I have a few interesting stories to tell. My boyfriend Kevin lives in New York City. I graduated Queens College, CUNY, in 1967.

Culture Shock, by Will Stanton

The day was sunny and fairly warm for
November, so I took a stroll through the park, occasionally having a seat on
one of the many benches to soak up the sunshine and to watch the hundreds of
geese on the lake.  The benches came in
handy, considering that it has been a very long time since I was able to take
twenty-mile, mountain hikes.  My hips
were speaking to me, so I sought out another bench to rest.
The only bench close by me at that
moment already was occupied by one older woman. 
I correctly guessed that she was babushka,
a grandmother from Russia.  She appeared
to be friendly, so I asked if could join her. 
She seemed glad to have the company and someone to talk to.  With her heavy Russian accent, the
conversation was more “talk to” than “talk with,” for she did the majority of
the talking.  That was OK with me because
everything she had to say was quite interesting.
It turns out that she is seventy-six,
although she could pass for fifty.  She
lived most of her life in Yekaterinburg, the fourth largest city in Russia with
quite a history.   Situated in the Urals
on the border of Europe and Asia, it perhaps is best known as the location
where, tragically, Czar Nicolas II, his wife, and all his children were
murdered and then buried in the forests nearby.
Yekaterinburg also is known to be a
highly cultural city with ample opportunities to engage in the arts.  In addition to all of its educational
facilities, it has more than thirty museums, plus several theaters, concert
halls, and opera houses.  Several
world-famous operas singers got their start in Yekaterinburg. 
This loquacious babushka explained that society there just assumes that good
culture should be part of everyone’s life. 
Consequently, children are brought up to appreciate and to participate
in music and the arts and to be familiar with great literature.  As it turns out, these pursuits are not just
simple hobbies; the families take them seriously.  Before she acquired a degree in architectural
engineering, she first acquired a degree in classical piano performance.  Now that is dedication! 
She went on to talk about her family:
her husband, her daughters, and her grown granddaughters.  Yes, her daughters also acquired degrees in
music before pursuing degrees in their chosen professions.  Now her granddaughters just have completed
their music degrees in Boulder.
Babushka says
that she very much misses her home and all the cultural opportunities left
behind, but she came to America because of her family.  Her husband was offered a good
job-opportunity as an environmental planner here in America.  He accepted it and moved here by
himself.  His wife chose to remain behind
at home.  Eventually, their daughters
joined their father in America, and Babushka
was left alone.  Family is most important
to her, so finally she joined the family here.
There are many things that she likes
about America; however, she has noticed a major difference in culture
here.  There are some of the same
cultural advantages here as in her homeland, but at a very reduced scale and
with fewer and fewer people who truly are interested.  There appears not to be the same society-wide
appreciation of the arts among the population or understanding that incorporating
arts and music into one’s life not only enriches human life but also, as proved
by several psychological / educational research-studies, enhances the ability
to learn other disciplines, a concept apparently lost upon school districts
that eliminate the arts first from their school programs as “non-essential.”
I understood what she was talking
about.  Since my childhood, the vast
majority of classical music radio stations in America have been disbanded
because of rapidly dwindling listenership and advertising income.  Throughout America over the last generation,
the country has lost dozens of symphonies, theaters, opera companies, ballets
companies, and school arts and music programs.
A few years ago, the Denver Symphony
could not afford to keep going and was disbanded.  Apparently, Denverites will pay hundreds or
even thousands of dollars to go to football games and rock concerts, but many
far-less pricey symphony tickets were left half-unsold.  World-famous musicians would arrive on stage
to the embarrassing view of oceans of empty seats.  The failed symphony finally was replaced with
the Colorado Symphony.  Then just last
year, most of the board left out of frustration, and the symphony again came
close to closing.  It is keeping barely
alive by cutting the number of concerts, minimizing salaries, and traveling to
other venues with small groups of musicians to perform for a handful of
listeners. 
Other societies have a far different
view from America.  For example, Germany
funds their national arts programs at a rate of dozens of times higher per
capita in contrast to America.  They give
government funding to symphonies at a rate of 25 times that of America and
opera companies at 28 times.  In
contrast, Mit Romney (when running for President) said that he would eliminate
all government support for the arts in this country, and he’s not the only one
to say that.  Like many politicians the
past thirty years, he believes in so-called “small government” – – except of
course in the cases of increasing military spending, intruding into people’s
private lives, dictating women’s health choices, pushing religious beliefs into
school science programs, gutting the workers’ unions, and suppressing the right
to vote.  Within the total military
expenditures for each year, a tiny fraction of goes to supporting military
marching bands; yet that amount of money is so huge in contrast to what is
provided currently to the National Endowment for the Arts that this sum could
resurrect and support twenty full-time symphony orchestras at $20 million apiece
plus give 80,000 musicians, artists, and sculptors an annual salary of
$50,000.  But, the “cut-the-budget”
power-brokers in Congress never would do that. 
During World War II, Britain’s
finance minister recommended to Winston Churchill that they cut arts funding to
better fund the war effort.  Churchill’s
response was, “Then what are we fighting for?” 
There are numerous sociological and psychological articles written and
available for reading about the essential need for the arts to develop and
maintain a civilized nation with civilized people.
Another example of how culture has
declined in America can be seen in what recordings the majority of Americans
choose to buy.  Just ten years ago, the
local Barnes and Noble on Colorado Boulevard carried, in a large percentage of
the media room, hundreds of classical recordings on CDs and DVDs; and their
staff were graduate students from the Denver University Graduate School of
Music.  That large display-area
continually shrank until only one small area by the back wall contained
classical music, and the only clerk was a high-school graduate who admitted
that she had no background in music at all. 
With the recent renovation of the store and the reduction of the media
area to a minor space off to the far side, the stock has been minimized to
virtually nothing. 
Then I recently stopped in Target
just to check out their DVDs.  They had
only about a half-dozen of real quality and interest to me, five of which I
already had, and absolutely no classical CD section at all among the rap,
heavy-metal, hip-hop, country-western, pop, rock, and TV soundtracks.  That is what sells in America with
recordings, live concerts, radio, and TV, and even the music chosen for
background noise even in so-called good restaurants. 
Many fine grand-piano stores,
including the two major ones in my area, have gone bankrupt and closed because
so few people now are interested in classical music and learning how to play
the piano.  An article in the New York
Times described how many pianos now are taken to the dump because they often cannot
even be given away.  The correspondent
spoke about watching as a bulldozer ran over and crushed a Knabe baby-brand
piano.
Quite obviously, our country has
developed different priorities and values from that of many other advanced
nations.  I recently finished watching
the BBC production of John Carré’s “Tinker, Taylor…”  One particular quotation caught my attention.  In questioning one of the characters in his
story as to why he was so unhappy with America, the man replied, “Do you know
what the problem is…?  Greed, and
constipation…morally, politically, aesthetically.”  If that statement seems extreme, the sad fact
is that many people hold the same feelings. 
Unfortunately, since the book was written around forty years ago, a
similar view of America has persisted among many foreign nations in
particular.  This cultural difference
between the grandmother’s home and what America has become has not been lost
upon her, either.
So, the grandmother, obviously proud
of her family and all their accomplishments, laments the culture shock that she
has experienced.  She appreciates her
chance to come to America and to be reunited with her family.  Yet at the same time, she speaks with
fondness and nostalgia of her once having lived in an environment of great
cultural opportunity. 
Bosendorfer Grand Piano
I was sure that she had much more to
talk about,  and I would have been glad to have heard more; however, the sun was
going down, and the air quickly was becoming chilly.  Even my personal, extra insulation was not
enough to stave off the growing cold. 
So, I thanked her for her conversation, bid her farewell, and headed
home, all the time weighing the possible social and personal implications of
her reported culture shock.
© 28 Sep 2016 
About the Autho
 I have had a life-long fascination with
people and their life stories.  I also
realize that, although my own life has not brought me particular fame or
fortune, I too have had some noteworthy experiences and, at times, unusual
ones.  Since I joined this Story Time
group, I have derived pleasure and satisfaction participating in the group.  I do put some thought and effort into my
stories, and I hope that you find them interesting.

Help, by Ray S

It is the darkest of nights. As though the universe
were an endlessness bereft of all of its stars and planets. On a hilltop he
stands naked, nothing to hide himself with. Slowly he stands astride raising
outstretched arms, takes a deep breath, opens his mouth, and from the depths of
his lungs screams HELP!
At another time in a small square room—floor, walls,
ceiling thickly padded no discernible openings, absent of any light, the
blackness surrounding him like a smothering blanket—again the cry HELP!
A blazing sun scorches the desert plain blinding the
drop off the edge of space. Visions of the climax scene from an old movie where
the protagonist speeds the car over the cliff. Could he will this kind of an
ending? Would he be brave enough to follow through and end it all? Or would he
chicken out before he accelerated the gas pedal, or maybe go over the cliff
before he could change his confused mind? That perhaps a stroke of good
fortune—speeding away to the end screaming HELP!
He has arrived at NOW. The same hilltop but the
universe enveloping it is a deep midnight blue with stars sparkling like
diamonds scattered forever. He stands up tall and steady, still naked to his
world and yet clothed with a garment of gratitude and love for the NOW that has
brought him so very many beautiful friendships and blessings.
HELP is here NOW!
©19 Sep 2016 
About the Author 

Greens, by Ray S

“Greens” is the color of my green bucks. Last Friday in a fit of self indulgence I took some eight and a half of them and went to the movies.

Alright, I got around that subject matter and now with your indulgence, you get to try to survive some more of the results of my attempting to keep up with the rest of you, my storytellers. Not hardly literature, just the incidental “off the wall” stuff I usually come to this séance with.

I bet you’ve guessed already—a movie review instead of my favorite recipe for Caesar salad.

First, I will certainly understand should you wish to close your ears and eyes while I get on with this little essay. It won’t take long and not likely to enlighten you, unless you’re a Woody Allen movie freak. Yes, the local Esquire movie palace (somewhat diminished) is showing his latest effort CAFÉ SOCIETY. If you have followed Allen’s cinema career you might recognize his timeless and sometimes tired themes—but soldier on and you will discover a new and magic story-line with each of his many films.

Of course, he has continued to mine the nostalgia store with Café’s pre-WWII setting. Most of you are too young to relate to this time and will see this aspect as quaint and maybe “Was it really like that then?” Well, yes, only Hollywood always goes them one better. You know, bigger than life.

That said about the book drop, Allen has written a charmingly witty story that will catch your imagination and keep you waiting for the next curveball which he so adept at throwing or tossing in this case.

The ethnicity of the players, the reality of human nature and how it molds each of us in so many different ways is well portrayed. The voice-over, if not read by the author-director himself, could easily pass for him, as well as the actor who plays the lead. A 20-something mensch from New York turned loose in 1939 Hollywood.

Enough already! If you want some escape that isn’t mind-numbing violence or sci-fi, take the afternoon off for some off-the-wall Woody Allen time.

© 8 August 2016

About the Author

Snow Falling on a Sleepless Night, by Carlos

Snow fell last night
like silent doves descending
from heaven’s realm.
For one brief moment, the
voices of angry men subsided,
and the weary slumbered,
cocooned within folds of peace.
Empty promises and shattered
dreams flew off.
The recent dead again reposed
like opalescent bubbles in frozen lakes.
And spectral omens flew off,
declaring no more of darkness, no more of fears.
Prayers and hope for our land
broke out from wounded hearts.
Men and women of stolid hopes
again looked up, declaring,
We shall not fall as pawns.
We shall not despair the
ebbing of the light.
For like the snow quietly
descending from above,
so shall we our joy proclaim,
as we restore what we have
lost.
Let the bugle, therefore, rent
the clouds above;
let the snows purge the world
anew,
cloaking us with conviction,
that beneath a mantle of
pristine white,
we may again rejoice.
© 21 Nov 2016 
About the Autho
Cervantes wrote, “I know who I am
and who I may choose to be.”  In spite of
my constant quest to live up to this proposition, I often falter.  I am a man who has been defined as sensitive,
intuitive, and altruistic, but I have also been defined as being too shy, too
retrospective, too pragmatic.  Something
I know to be true. I am a survivor, a contradictory balance of a realist and a
dreamer, and on occasions, quite charming. 
Nevertheless, I often ask Spirit to keep His arms around my shoulder and
His hand over my mouth.  My heroes range
from Henry David Thoreau to Sheldon Cooper, and I always have time to watch Big
Bang Theory or Under the Tuscan Sun.  I
am a pragmatic romantic and a consummate lover of ideas and words, nature and
time.  My beloved husband and our three
rambunctious cocker spaniels are the souls that populate my heart. I could
spend the rest of my life restoring our Victorian home, planting tomatoes, and
lying under coconut palms on tropical sands. 
I believe in Spirit, and have zero tolerance for irresponsibility,
victim’s mentalities, political and religious orthodoxy, and intentional
cruelty.  I am always on the look-out for
friends, people who find that life just doesn’t get any better than breaking
bread together and finding humor in the world around us. 

You’ll Never Know, by Betsy

I’m always fascinated by new information, new knowledge, new
happenings. There have been a lot of new things to think about particularly in
recent weeks— dramatic events taking place across the globe—much of this has
gotten everyone’s attention.  In recent years,
new knowledge about our universe, our solar system, galaxy, and outer space has
gotten my attention.
Take the universe, for example.  Science has recently learned that our
universe is expanding at an ever-increasing rate of speed.  It is because of this expansion, that our
universe will eventually die, they say—latest estimates are about 300 trillion
years from now. That will happen, of course, long after the death of our solar
system.  And that death will come long
after the death of our planet. Scientists believe the energy for this expansion
comes from dark matter. We used to think that space—the darkness between the
stars and other bodies we see in outer space—we used to think it was just
that—space, emptiness.  But now it seems
it is some sort of energy now called dark matter. The nature of this energy,
unfortunately and most likely, we will never know. Or maybe we will learn some
things about it in our lifetimes, but not much. 
What I do know is that in this current life I will never know, you will
never know, we will never know all there is to know about dark matter. Come to
think of it we’ll never know what it is that we don’t know, will we, or even
how much we don’t know.
Just as engaging are some of the recent events that have
taken place in the U.S. and around the world. 
The events are not so fascinating to me—horrific as they may be.  It’s people’s reactions to the events that
intrigue me—especially some of our leaders.
I am more than mystified that over 30 governors have stated
that no Syrian refugees will be allowed into their states. The rest of the
country says they are welcome. The 30 say it is to keep their people safe. I
understand wanting to keep your people safe, but I don’t understand why it is
Syrians who are the ones to be kept out. The Syrians are not the terrorists.
They are the refugees, most of them widows and orphans trying to escape the
horrors. The terrorists are from other countries. Yes, the ISIS headquarters
are in Syria at the moment, but don’t our governors understand that the
perpetrators are not necessarily Syrians?
If refugees are to be allowed entrance into the U.S. they
must be screened, re screened and screened again. This, I understand, is the
current process. But it does not make sense to me that while a Syrian family
sits waiting for 2 years for numbers of background checks to prove they are
harmless to Americans, anyone in the U.S—anyone and everyone—regardless of who
they are—almost anyone can buy an assault weapon—a weapon designed for killing
people. No questions asked.  Why do we
have a system like this?  I will never
know, you will never know, and we will never know.
Also on the list of mysteries is the responses of most of the
Republican presidential candidates to the acts of terror happening around the
world and how they would keep their people safe were they, God forbid, to
become president.  Rounding up all the
Muslims and kicking them out is probably the most outrageous. Again, that only
feeds the conflict, which  is what ISIS
and all the terrorist organizations are hoping for. 
How ‘bout we only allow Christians into the country. I don’t
need to describe the problems with that plan. What I will never know is how to
answer questions like: do they really think all Americans are Christians. I’m
mind boggled. 
What are people thinking? Or are they just not thinking? Or
are they just playing politics.  I wonder
if I will ever know, if you will ever know, or if we will ever know.
© 23 Nov 2015 
About the Author 
 Betsy has been active in
the GLBT community including PFLAG, the Denver Women’s Chorus, OLOC (Old
Lesbians Organizing for Change), and the GLBT Community Center. She has been
retired from the human services field for 20 years. Since her retirement, her major
activities have included tennis, camping, traveling, teaching skiing as a
volunteer instructor with the National Sports Center for the Disabled, reading,
writing, and learning. Betsy came out as a lesbian after 25 years of marriage.
She has a close relationship with her three children and four grandchildren.
Betsy says her greatest and most meaningful enjoyment comes from sharing her
life with her partner of 30 years, Gillian Edwards.

A Stroll at the Denver Art Museum, by Phillip Hoyle

Artists sometimes open our eyes to realities and injustices
the society tolerates. Friday at the art museum my granddaughters Rose and
Ulzii took off on their own. I walked with my daughter-in-law Heather, one of
the most intelligent and creative persons I have ever known, also one of the
most open personalities I have ever spent time with. She and I have been good
friends ever since the day my son Michael brought her and her three-year-old
son to our house. She’s highly educated, teaches writing at college and
secondary levels, and with my son has reared a quartet of unusually bright and
talented youngsters: two boys, two girls.
Heather and I sat in chairs in the ‘Matisse and Friends’
gallery on the first floor of the Hamilton Building of the museum while the
girls went their own way. They had become tired of Mom and Grandpa talking so
intensely over the previous two days! Sitting there Heather and I discussed the
art and our two days of visits and interviews at culinary schools, of bus and
light rail trips around metro Denver, of meals and walks, and of her children,
the boys as well as the girls whom we had accompanied the past two days.
Then I suggested we take my favorite stroll through the
museum accessed by riding the elevator to the fourth floor. There we saw mostly
empty walls since most of the area was being re-hung. We walked down the huge
staircase beneath the impressive Calder mobile. At the foot of the stairs we
turned to the installation with grey foxes cavorting in a red café. Heather was
especially thrilled with this work. We walked on through the narrow north
hallway and entered a gallery that usually offers some kind of audio-video
experience. Although I had seen the current installation several times, Heather
had not. She caught the title “Lot’s Wife” and with her deep curiosity took in
the tall mannequin with white skin, white clothing, and long white hair, a
figure that from her meadow-like setting gazed at a projected lakeshore.
Heather read it as a depiction of Lot’s wife after she had glanced back toward
Sodom, the hometown she and Lot were leaving, a glance against Yahweh’s
command. In the ancient story from Genesis due to her disobedience, the wife
turned into a pillar of salt, thus the white the artist selected. Then Heather
noted the thick, muscular neck of the figure, then the very male profile of the
face. The artist wants to push us! Oh my God! Was Lot’s wife a man? Was Lot
homosexual? Was his wife transgendered or a cross-dresser? The questions piled
up. The rationalizations multiplied. The objections flourished. And finally the
truth of it settled on both of us. Gay folk cannot turn away from who they are
even in the face of nearly universal opposition!
I know from a careful study of the ancient text and its
ensuing interpretation that the story’s meaning is not anti-homosexual. It’s a
story about lacking hospitality, but of course these days that sounds too
wimpy. The Hebrew God demanded hospitality to strangers not rejection. That
demand is at the heart of biblical story after biblical story in the Hebrew and
Greek bibles. But our artist, Canadian Kent Monkman, wasn’t worried about
historical interpretations. He, a Cree Indian, is concerned about the deeply
embedded prejudice inherent in our culture and society that fears anything
Native and homosexual, anything queer, or as Wikipedia defines it in its
article on homophobia, anything LGBT! Whoa! LGB and T. Yes.
Heather ‘got it’ as my artist friend Sue would say.
Gods can often seem unfair, especially ancient Gods evaluated
by post modern humans. It just doesn’t seem right that when Apollo couldn’t
resist looking back at Eurydice that she then disappeared and couldn’t
make the trip from Hades to be reunited with her husband. It doesn’t seem right
that when Lot’s wife (of course they left out her name—which in this
interpretative context seems like double trouble!) glanced backward at her
hometown she was leaving to avoid its destruction that she was destroyed
anyway.
The artist now seems to be telling LGBs and Ts to watch out.
Don’t look back at your fears; don’t doubt the truth of your own reality; don’t
get scared at what you are becoming—or you may become a pillar of salt or melt
into nothing. DON’T BE AFRAID.
So my little stroll through the museum challenged me to leave
my own homo fears and embrace this new life, one of possibility, challenge, and
hope.
Watching Heather process the installation gave me hope for
our family of young adults establishing themselves in creative work, of the ability
of the supporting generations to help them, of myself to keep getting over the
deeply hidden fears generated by being so truly queer.
* * * * *
Here’s my testimony!
In addition to being deeply loved by a number of men I have
never been so assisted in this fearless task so much as I have by coming week
after week to this SAGE storytelling group—telling my stories and hearing
yours.
The process of community, sharing, paying attention, working
to express exactly what I have experienced and mean conspire to keep away the
fearsome temptations and to clarify just what I need to pay attention to as I
continue to grow as a truly Queer, truly LGBT person.
Thanks to you.
Thanks to artists like Kent Monkman.
Thanks to a changing social scene that supports even more
changes in the lives of LGBTs as Qs, and more.
© Denver,
Dec 2014
 
About the Author 
Phillip Hoyle
lives in Denver and spends his time writing, painting, and socializing. In
general he keeps busy with groups of writers and artists. Following thirty-two
years in church work and fifteen in a therapeutic massage practice, he now
focuses on creating beauty. He volunteers at The Center leading the SAGE
program “Telling Your Story.”
He also blogs at artandmorebyphilhoyle.blogspot.com

Help, by Louis Brown

Basically
the Beatles lyrics speak for themselves. I was thinking “Help” could
also mean “the Help”, the servants as in a turn of the century upper
class household. Think “Upstairs, Downstairs.” A study of social
class structure in England, back then. I wonder if the other authors of our
group have thought of the Beatles. Some have, I bet.

I Get by with a Little Help from My Friends
Help!
When I’m Sixty-Four



[Here is a link to see the lyrics to the above songs. Ed.
© 16 Sep 2016 
About
the Author
 
 I was born in 1944, I lived most of my life in New York City,
Queens County. I still commute there. I worked for many years as a Caseworker
for New York City Human Resources Administration, dealing with mentally
impaired clients, then as a social work Supervisor dealing with homeless PWA’s.
I have an apartment in Wheat Ridge, CO. I retired in 2002. I have a few
interesting stories to tell. My boyfriend Kevin lives in New York City. I
graduated Queens College, CUNY, in 1967.

Movies, by Ray S

Last week, well for Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and finally Thursday nights I went to the movies. It was one of the longest horror stories I’ve ever witnessed. It all took place on my TV screen rather than the screen at the Mayan or Esquire Theatres.

What I watched made watching the horrors of Atlanta burning during “Gone with the Wind” or the horror of Marlon Brando chewing the scenery in “Apocalypse Now” seem comparable to Judy Garland’s rendition of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” There was no comparison.

In other words the apotheosis of Emperor Trump at the Republican National Convention was scarier than hell and totally demoralizing. What was even more terrifying was to see and hear all of the great unwashed reaching orgasmic nirvana in the middle of Cleveland, Ohio, and with the world watching. “Have they no shame?”

To some it may be reassuring that our nation will be elevated to its rightful place in the world on January 20, 2017. No longer will the USA remain the weak, second-class rubbish heap of corrupt Democrat despots that have destroyed everything our country stood for. Quote: “Leave it to me, I’ll take care of everything MYSELF or maybe one of my very photogenic progeny;” even that lost lamb on Thursday who couldn’t seem to find a place to stand. A nice touch at the end through was when the child received a light nudge from our soon-to-be king. The royal family stood together along with Mr. and Mrs. Pence. Makes one wonder if the government will have to outdo Harry Truman and add a bedroom wing to the White House.

This may not be popcorn in theater # 2, or the main floor seating with your own recliner, but it promises to be one hell of a Movie.

Remember to paraphrase Margo Channing in “All About Eve”. “Fasten your seat belts; it’s going to be a bumpy ride tonight”!

© 23 July 2016

About the Author