Tag: Louis

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Pain, Wisdom Teeth, and Westchmerz, by Louis

The two parts to my essay are (a) physical pain and (b)
Welstschmerz.
(a)           
Back in the late 1960’s and early 1970’s,
I was having trouble with my four wisdom teeth. The wisdom tooth pressing up
against its neighboring tooth caused extreme pain. The first wisdom tooth
extraction (Upper right) went rather well. A dentist got it out. The second
wisdom tooth (lower right) was more complicated so I had to go to Flushing
Hospital.
The
wisdom tooth resisted being extracted by the dental surgeon’s first attempt,
and he used a reasonably sized pliers. But as the wisdom tooth resisted, the
pain increased dramatically, and the dental surgeon kept choosing larger and
larger pliers. The last pair of pliers was quite enormous and resembled a
medieval torture instrument. For about a week after that, I just stayed drunk,
and I rinsed my mouth with whisky which is not only a good antiseptic, it
helped deaden the pain.
A
month or two after that, my two left wisdom teeth were pressing up against
their neighboring teeth. The pain was excruciating. So I chose an oral surgeon
or rather an oral surgery team.
I
lay down on a gurney, they gave me phenobarbital, and I went into a semi-dream
state, but I was still awake, and I was aware of the surgeon and the three or
four nurses assisting him who were hovering over me. They extracted both wisdom
teeth with surgery rather than yanking them out with pliers. Everything went
smoothly, I felt no pain, and the subsequent recuperation period had some pain
but it was minimal.
So,
if you need to have more than one tooth extracted at a time, choose oral
surgery. Phenobarbital was wonderful. You get anesthetized, but your body does
not feel threatened as with ether or other anesthesias. And you are still
actually awake.
(b)           
The other type of pain I have experienced
is Weltschmerz or “World pain,”
defined in Webster’s Dictionary as “sentimental pessimism or melancholy over
the state of the world”:
(1)           
JFK got assassinated. That trauma was
painful, but we discussed that already.
(2)           
The twin towers came down on 9/11/2001.
But of course we already discussed that trauma as well.
(3)           
President Nixon ordered the invasion of
Cambodia on May 8, 1970. I remember the protests in this country were swift and
enormous. I tried to go to a protest demonstration in Washington, D. C., but
there were just too many protesters. Our bus had to stop somewhere in the
outskirts of Washington, D. C., so we just sat there; some of the passengers
had guitars so we made the best of it by singing peace songs and Beatles’
songs. It was fun. But the invasion itself was traumatic and caused a lot of
people Weltschmerz.
(4)              
January 30, 1968 was the date of the Tet
Offensive. That was when we realized that, actually the Communists whooped us. On
April 30, 1975, the U. S. withdrew from Vietnam. Pictures of the “fall” of
Saigon were quite traumatic. I felt more Weltschmerz.
(5)           
The death of our two friends, Steve and
Randy.
On
a less serious note, the French language has two interesting tongue twisters,
that is le vire-langue (rarely used):
(a)           
Ton thé, t’ôte-t-il ta toux? Does
your tea get rid of your cough?
(b)        
La reine Didon dîna, dit-on, d’un dos dodu d’un dodu
dindon. The Queen of Carthage dined, they say, on the fat back
of a fat turkey.
Of
course, Dido (Didon) was not actually a queen, she was a princess, though she
did run ancient Carthage.
© 14 Sep 2017  
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.
                                       
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Assumptions, by Louis

Phase out Football and Boxing 

About thirty-two years ago, I am in a sports bar, and the conversation of several beer-drinkers inevitably turns to football. The four or five other guys at the bar look at me, see a 40-year old man, and assume:

(a) I am obsessed with football games;

(b) I am knowledgeable about the biographies and careers of the top 20 most famous football players.

(c) And I have a fervent belief that these 20 most famous football players are excellent rôle models for American youth.

I said as little as possible during these conversations. What I really believe is:

(a) Excessive interest in football games is gradually turning into a mental illness, something like mass hysteria;

(b) I know next to nothing about the biographies of the 20 most famous football players, and I see no reason in particular to show any interest in their biographies;

(c) If you ask me, “successful” football players are not wholesome rôle models. Why is it admirable for a man to engage in a violent sport in which his bones will be broken and repetitive violent blows to his head will result in his suffering various types of dementia and motor impairment?

Pretty much the same can be said of boxing. Broken bones, dementia from brain concussions, paraplegia, quadriplegia and even death. Two guys punching each other in the face, I do not find admirable. In a word these two violent sports, football and boxing should be discontinued. Make love, not war.

The polls indicate that public interest in football is declining. Thank God. I think fervent promotion of football and boxing and other sports is part of a deliberate campaign or process of dumbing-down the public or, in a word, “a conspiracy.”

We should be led by intelligent people with a good sense of moral and ethical sensitivity. Like the authors of Telling Your Story. As opposed to punch drunk boxers, as likeable as Muhamed Ali was.

Years ago the hippies promoted the idea of non-violent, non-competitive sports. I think that idea should be developed further. The game should promote the idea of cooperation. Team A should not try to defeat Team B but join up with Team B and collectively say cure cancer.

In itself, football is a clever game. Make it into a parlor game like Monopoly or Parcheesi. Nothing wrong with that.

A lot of reasonable people agree with me, I know.

When I was 25 years old, a bosomy woman, looking for a boyfriend, intentionally pushed her bosoms on my back and side, assuming I would get excited or something. She was looking for a boyfriend in a direct sort of way. Nowadays most people have stopped assuming that a guy is necessarily heterosexual, and that one can guess what his deep personal motivations are. That’s progress.

© 3 March 2017

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.

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Winter Shades, by Louis

Winter shades means for me memories that kept recurring this past winter which was like so many others. To catch up, I also missed, I noticed, the prompt for Feb. 27, “Where I was on 9/11.” I would like to respond to that prompt also. I assume that the prompt “Backseat of the car” was for March 6, which I also missed but to which I would like to relate my reaction.

Memories

“Where I was on 9/11”: 72-16 = 70-14 = 66, so that I was 66 years old when that happened. I was still employed at the Division of AIDS Services in the New York City Human Administration. I was taking the Q-65 from College Point headed for Flushing where I was planning to board the Long Island Railroad stop, located at the corner of 41st Avenue and Main Street. This train was bound for Manhattan but was stopped at 61st Street (which is still in Queens County). Before boarding the train, while still on the Q-65 bus passing through a swampy road, I had a good view of far-off World Trade Center Towers, since, where I was there were no tall buildings. I saw a large volume of smoke coming out of the side of one of the twin towers, and I thought to myself it will be a technical feat to fight a fire so far up on a sky-scraper, meaning I did not at that point know the whole story, and did not learn until much later. Still that would make me an eye-witness though I was not actually in Manhattan at the time so avoided getting poisoned.

I was kind of happy I did not have to work that day. A surprise day off. Whoopee!

I returned to Flushing where I visited the gay sauna where I had a few regular boyfriends. I met one and had a very good time. It is kind of embarrassing to admit that I was enjoying myself while three thousand people were suffering and dying. But who knew?

Backseat of the Car: my father, DeWitt Brown, repaired air conditioners, TV’s and refrigerators for a living. He also repaired and collected junk cars. One John Doe worked for my father, and one evening I sat with him in the backseat of one of my father’s junk cars, we talked, and we had our honeymoon. In a trite sordid way, it was quite romantic, I thought.

©13 March 2017

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.

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Three Fond Memories, by Louis

I have three categories [of
fond memories]:
(a)          My mother at Christmas time, and her
fabulous garden (herb garden included). Sour ending: she died.
(b)                       
Politics: George McGovern’s campaign. Sour
ending: Richard Nixon got elected.
(c)          My love affair with John Wheeler. Sour
ending: he dumped me after 6 weeks and 15 years later, turned into a mentally
impaired middle aged man.
(a)          On Christmas morning, my mother would
put on a red satin robe, which she put on only on Christmas Morning. She would
walk regally down from the second floor of our house to the first floor. For
her, Christmas was the day she celebrated her five young sons, of which I was
number 4. Our oldest brother Arthur would distribute the Christmas presents,
some of them were donated by a local church. We were poor, but well fed. Our
Christmas dinner table sparkled with elaborate china and fine crystal ware,
handed down to us from our well-to-do great great grandparents, Hiram and
Hester Brown of the early nineteenth century. Mother Elinor Brown really made
me feel special.
Elinor
Brown also kept an elaborate garden. She loved working in it for hours on end.
When we moved into that house in 1950, the previous owners, the Horns, had
purchased about 3 tons of topsoil. As a result, everything my mother planted
grew luxuriantly and flourished. Most of the lawn was shaded by two very tall
maple trees. And part of the garden was her herb garden which provided mint
sprigs and sweet basil, etc. My mother grew holly hocks, all kinds of roses:
tea roses, rambler roses, yellow roses, button roses, wild roses. Her irises
were yellow and yellow and purple, and dark blue and light blue. She grew lady
slippers and Jack-in-the-Pulpits. When I was around 30 years old, a friend told
me that the reason that flowers are so beautiful is that they are sex organs.
Well yes Mother Nature is somewhat lewd in many different ways.
The
sour ending was that my mother died aetatem 76 years, and she was born in 1913,
which would mean that she died in 1989. Elinor Brown was well-read and was an
inspiration for many children not just her own five sons.
(b)                       
Politics:
I was in my 20’s when the War in Vietnam was going on. Everything about that
war made me feel guilty. The establishment’s stated reasons for us being there
were not very convincing. All the appalling pictures. I felt very guilty. So,
when George McGovern came along and demanded we stop the whole disastrous war,
I was relieved. My guilt was assuaged. I volunteered in his campaign. Although
Richard Nixon beat him, I was not too dismayed. As reprehensible as Richard
Nixon was, he could have been a lot worse.
In
a report about President Obama visiting Laos, I recently heard that we dropped
2 million tons of bombs on Laos. For what reason?  I’ll never know. I also remember the reports
of large numbers of veterans returning from that war as drug addicts. It was a
bummer every which way.
(c)          About two years ago, I told you about
my short-lived love affair with John Wheeler. I wasn’t too worried about
invading his privacy given how common his name is. My love affair with him went
on for about six weeks, during which time we would walk down the street and,
you remember the song, “people stop and stare”, well people would literally
stop and stare at John Wheeler, his beauty was so spectacular. I never told him
what I really thought of him. I would say, “I think you are handsome or
good-looking”. Whereas, in reality, I thought he was a rare beauty. His elbows
were perfect, his farmer toes were beautiful. His proportions were perfect.
Well he was a model for a sports magazine. He would curl his eye-lashes.  Every night he would put a dab of Vaseline on
his eyelids. The long eyelashes made his beautiful almond-shape eyes even
dreamier. His back muscles were rippled beautifully. His posture was perfect. He
kept an enormous rifle in his closet. God knows if that was legal or not.
The
sour ending: For some reason, after six week, he said
he got a computer technician job in Connecticut and would be moving there with
his girlfriend. He never wrote to me, never gave me his address in Connecticut.
In other words, sadly, I got dumped.
About
20 years later, while I was a caseworker in Queens County in New York, I was
assigned a client, a John Wheeler. I said to myself it couldn’t be my
ex-boyfriend. I went to his apartment in Jackson Heights and saw it was the
same John Wheeler, all his good looks gone. He looked like a slightly dumpy
middle-aged man. The sad part was his memory was so defective that he could not
remember what you said at the beginning of your sentence by the time you
finished your sentence. His brain got pickled by too much vodka, to be honest.
He was clinically mentally impaired. What was the point of me asking him about
his computer technician career in Connecticut? He would not know what I was
talking about.
© 5 Oct 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.
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The Gay and Lesbian Community as Social Leaders in Ancient Greece and Rome, by Louis Brown

(1)                       
The names of the planets of the solar
system were taken from Greek and Roman Mythology.
(2)                       
That brings me back to my theme, my
question of why study ancient Greek and Roman history?
(3)                       
When I was a High School freshman, I
took an elective course in ancient history. I have been interested ever since,
up to a point, in the study of ancient Greece and Rome.
(4)                       
I remember when I gave my somewhat
verbose report on the novel The Dictator. I got the impression that some of you
listeners were wondering why on earth I was going on and on about the status of
Julius Caesar – was he an emperor or a dictator? And also about the final,
gruesome assassination of Cato.
(5)                       
The answer is because, in the ancient
world of Greece and Rome, gay and Lesbian people had a completely different
status from that we had in the 19th Century in the British Empire
under Queen Victoria who persecuted us mindlessly and irrationally.
(6)                       
It took me a while to understand what
certain gay classical history scholars were trying to tell me, but, thanks
mainly to Alexander the Great, gay men had control of the ancient Greek
military establishment.
(7)                       
Straight heterosexual men, the
“breeders” were expected to stay home and bring up the children. The freer
uncommitted population of gay men were expected to become the nation’s warriors,
which they did.
(8)                       
In other words, for gay men and
Lesbians, ancient Greek and ancient Roman society constituted our golden age.
An army of gay lovers was invincible, didn’t Alexander the Great prove that?
(9)                       
 From Wikipedia: Sir John Edwin Sandys – Latin
Epigraphy (1927). [1]
Roman historiography is indebted to the Greeks, who invented the form. The Romans had great models to
base their works upon, such as Herodotus (c. 484 – 425 BCE) and Thucydides (c. 460 – c. 395 BCE). Roman historiographical forms are different from the Greek
ones however, and voice very Roman concerns. Unlike the Greeks, Roman
historiography did not start out with an oral historical tradition. The Roman
style of history was based on the way that the Annals of the Pontifex Maximus, or the Annales Maximi, were recorded. The Annales Maximi include a wide array
of information, including religious documents, names of consuls, deaths of
priests, and various disasters throughout history. Also part of the Annales
Maximi are the White Tablets, or the “Tabulae Albatae,” which consist of
information on the origin of the republic.
(10)                 
In other words, the Roman historians
improved over the Greeks, because the Romans attempted to base their historical
reporting on written records rather than on traditional folklore. It was
somewhat more scientific.
(11)                 
“Pontifex maximus” was the religious title
of the emperor, the Imperator. Of course, his annals of events were of course
biased to extol and emphasize his own glory. It means the greatest bridge
builder. Recently certain democrats and the Pope criticized Donald Trump for
promoting the idea of building a wall. They said the President should be a
bridge builder not a wall builder. That reminded me of the Pontifex maximus.
(12)                 
In trying to study ancient Greek and Roman
history, however, the novice notices that they contradict each other, so that a
clear statement of actually what happened way back when was often impossible.
(13)                 
In other words, before studying classical
history, it would be better first to study how to study ancient classical
history – i.e. “historiography”.
(14)                 
To limit ourselves to ancient Greek and
Roman mythology, Mercury (planet nearest to the sun), in Greek was Hermes the
winged messenger.
(15)                 
Venus (a very hot planet) was Aphrodite,
the Goddess of Beauty.
(16)                 
Earth was Roman Terra, ancient Greek was
Gaia. Parenthetically, earth goddess in Germanic mythology was Erde – she had a
very interesting story, in her own right. Altlho, amazingly, Wikipedia has no
record. Google: Erda, Earth, Jörd- (“Earth”) The Earth-Goddess
Erda is the mother of Thor, with Odin. Erda is daughter to the Night-Disir
Natt/Night and her second husband of three, Annar.
(17)                 
Uranus was the early god of the sky in pre-classical
Greek mythology. He was the father of (amongst others) Saturn who castrated his
father – for some reason. Uranus predates Zeus and Hera. Saturn was the god of
the Capitoline Hiss in ancient Rome, etc.
© 27 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.
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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.
Posted on

Setting Up House, by Louis

Right now I am trying to set up house in Wheat Ridge; CO. Fortune Magazine said that Denver, CO, was the best place to live in the U. S., and my brother William decided to settle here. I am trying to “settle” in nearby Wheat Ridge, CO.

I come from College Point, NYC, NY which was a beautiful town. My father’s house used to be here. Should I have settled here?

For me setting up house means searching for gay utopia. The only true gay Utopia I know about is Cherry Grove, Fire Island. I heard South Beach and Key West also come close to this definition.

In the early 1960’s I received a scholarship to attend the École supérieure des sciences et technologies de l’ingénieur de Nancy. I flunked after the first year but not by much. Since Queens College was my alma mater, I decided to take advantage of their year abroad program. I pretty much became accustomed to the French way of life. Political quarreling in the U. S. got so unpleasantly intense, I found it more tranquil just to stay abroad.

Since I did not have an actual income other than the scholarships I had, I lived in a dormitory at the Université de Nancy from September 1965 to June 1966. It was not a question of setting up house. The reason I mention my two year stay in France was that many of the participants in the année propédeutique (or year of teacher preparation, pedagogy), though they were American, decided to stay in France. A few years after I returned to the U. S. and later, especially after seeing Michael Moore’s movie Sicko, I felt that settling in France would not have been a bad idea. France offers universal health care, and in general the French are better educated than Americans. For instance, nowadays I have met college graduates who never heard of “Europe”. What am I supposed to think? Duh!

So my search for Utopia began in the 1960’s. When I returned to College Point in 1965, I finished up my course work for my B. A. at Queens College, applied for a scholarship at the University of Delaware to study French Literature. This was in Newark, Delaware. My cousins lived there. They worked for the Dupont Corporation. Newark, Delaware, was nice enough, but the nearest gay colony back then was Philadelphia. I studied French Lit. at the University of Delaware for 1 and 1/2 years, then went to the University of Pennsylvania under a teaching fellowship.

Should I have settled in Newark, Delaware? Other than my cousins, there was nothing there. Philadelphia was an improvement over Newark, Delaware. There were gay bars, and I lived near the 30 Street Station. The men’s room there was good for cruising. It was big and clean. The cops did not bother checking up on it much. I guess I was little more promiscuous than I should have been. Then there was the nearby Club Bathhouse in Camden, NJ, just over the bridge. I went there about once a month. I wonder if it is still there.

I was at the University of Pennsylvania for 2 ½ years. That ended with my getting a Masters Degree in Romance Languages with a specialty in French. Should I have settled in Philadelphia? It was significantly nicer than New York City, but the summers in Philadelphia were very unpleasant. It was hard to breathe.

While, at the University of Pennsylvania, I met two gay men who, like me, were searching for a gay Utopia. Don and Tom were their names. They rented an apartment on the top floor of a high-rise nearer to downtown Philadelphia than where I was. I was near the University of Pennsylvania campus in west Philadelphia. Don and Tom lived east of Rittenhouse Square.

The apartment was quite an elegant penthouse. It had a beautiful view of downtown Philadephia. The air conditioning was fabulous. For the 2 ½ years that they stayed there, they were actually happy. My apartment was in a somewhat rundown building, but there was ivy right outside my window. And I did some clever decorating, so I was happy there for the time I was there.

Like me, in the long run, Tom did not become a French teacher. Don did become a French Instructor in some college in Florida. But Don and Tom were not lovers. Their boyfriends lived elsewhere. Tom wound up living near Washington Square Park, which is right near Greenwich Village in Manhattan in New York City. Tom lived there in the same apartment in Manhattan for the last 45 years. I guess he is and was happy there.

Should I have settled in Philadelphia? It still did not feel like home. Tom tells me that Don had a habit of overeating which brought about his recent death. I wonder if he was happy in Florida?

Up until the year 2002, I was still living in my parents’ house in College Point, but poor College Point continues to deteriorate and deteriorate, garbage everywhere and dead animals in the street, broken sewers and the municipal services disappearing. College Point stopped being a Utopia about 30 years ago.

I am sure settling in Wheat Ridge will become impossible once the local political establishment will become as hostile as the New York City establishment. But so far that has not happened.

© 7 September 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.

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Confessions of an Agoraphobe, by Louis

Since I come from an urban environment, I really cannot comment on rural mostly men going out into the woods and shooting animals. In bygone years, the hunter would kill the animal, decapitate it, take the head to a taxidermist who would stuff the head with cotton or Styrofoam, and the hunter would hang the animal head on his living room wall as a trophy or decoration. How sick is that?

Hunting means to me gay men cruising. The most extreme adventure I had with cruising was getting arrested for public lewdness in a public bathroom in Pennsylvania Railroad Station on 34th Street and 8th Avenue in Manhattan, New York City. This was about 35 years ago. I have noticed Penn Station is on the news almost 7 days a week. Now with the bombing on nearby West 23 Street, we see even more of Penn Station. For years I worked in a social services office on nearby west 28 Street and 8th Avenue.

Nevertheless, I found getting on my Long Island Railroad car every evening to return home a somewhat traumatic experience. Ordinarily, I am a timid civilized person who would not dream of carrying on in a public bathroom. But one evening, I had an attack of agoraphobia, which the dictionary defines as a fear of public spaces. What it really is is a fear of crowds.

My rational civilized self told me that it is logical and normal that very large numbers of people are racing about to catch their trains, to board them before the scheduled moment of departure. But evidently I had another creature inside me that said these were not people going about their business, this was a life-threatening mob engaged in a riot. Walking about in these mobs, I became very confused, I felt threatened. I felt blood rise into my neck and head. In a daze I went to the Men’s room and did some unmentionable things. I sort of reverted to what Rousseau would have called the state of nature.

You smile at a guy you like, he smiles at you. You do what you have to get him excited and interested. And vice versa. And if it weren’t the public bathroom, you would then go at it and have a roll in the hay. Unfortunately for me, a police undercover cop caught me being naughty and arrested me, even putting handcuffs on and taking me to the nearby police office in the station. The handcuffs were metal (not the soft plastic), and my hands were behind my back.

When the rather good-looking cop interviewed me, I told him I got confused and I asked him if he did not ever get confused walking in the midst of the crowds at Pennsylvania Station. He said no. As time passed, the cop noticed I was amused at my situation and was even enjoying what could be seen as skin flick fantasy. The cop told me originally I would have to go to court in about two weeks and answer the charge of public lewdness.

About an hour later, the cop told me that his superior decided to drop the charges, and the record of the charges would be expunged. I was free to go. Informally, he told me that, when the police captain perused the contents of my wallet, he noticed I had several church membership cards (they were gay churches in my case), and so he concluded I was a solid citizen. So he decided in my favor.

The moral of this story is that, though we like to think our civilized personas are in control, and usually they are, if threatened, we all have a more animalistic self inside of ourselves that will act like an animal if going by the rules becomes too constraining or threatening.

© 20 September 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.

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The Rise of Dr. Jill Stein by Louis

Since I did not know what today’s topic was supposed to be, I would just like to give my impressions of and my reactions to the presidential election.

My favorite candidate by far until recently was Bernie Sanders. When he endorsed Hillary Clinton so as to defeat Donald Trump, suddenly Jill Stein of the Green Party became much, much more important. Though I understand why Bernie did what he did, I do not agree with him that it is paramount to defeat Donald Trump. After Jill Stein, Donald Trump is my second choice.

In other words, Jill not Hill, Jill not Hill.

I voted for Barack Obama twice, but ultimately he failed; supporting TPP with such zeal demonstrates his first loyalty is to Wall Street not to the American public. Also his EPA did nothing to call out the governor of Michigan over the issue of the poisoned water in Flint, Michigan. Also he prolonged the pointless war in Afghanistan, and, ten years from now, the American public will still derive no benefit from this war, and the public will still be against it.

I’m disillusioned with Women’s Lib. Many women have risen to the heights of power: Margaret Thatcher in Great Britain, Condoleezza Rice, Secretary of State in the George W. Bush administration, Kelly Ayotte, Senator from New Hampshire, Dick Cheney’s heterosexual daughter, Liz Cheney. Women libbers should not be particularly proud of these “successful” women. The nicest women politicians I remember from the old days were Bela Abzug from New York. Now of course there is Dr. Jill Stein and Jane Sanders. These three are a little more likeable.

Colin Powell tried hard to sound more reasonable during the years of the W administration. Then, when General Powell got enthused about invading Iraq, his credibility instantly collapsed. More disillusion.

One of Bernie Sander’s team called Hillary Clinton “a whore of Wall Street.” I do not like the word “whore.” Let us just call her a puppet of Wall Street.

The main trend we should be following is the continued rise in the percentage of non-voters. It is now about 80%. In November, I estimate it will probably increase to 85%. In other words, we live in a nation with no leaders.

© 20 August 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.

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Blue Skies – Socialism, by Louis

(a) The tune “Blue Skies” has an implied theme of long easy life without problems, a life of easy sailing.

(b) For me “Blue Skies” means optimism for the future.

(c) Nowadays, most Americans are wondering why our government is so hostile and backward. Also why do we have a perpetual war going on in Afghanistan and elsewhere?

(d) The answer is because we are stuck with a backward form of capitalism. Companies like Halliburton buy the government, exclude more peace-oriented political candidates. They purchase Republican governors who repress the vote and make a joke of democracy.

(e) Michael Moore’s recent movies point out that other in other western democracies the governments govern and promote the best interests of the citizens. “Where to invade next.” Universal health care is taken for granted. In France women are given a couple of months off with pay before and after child birth and after birth have a nurse, all paid for by the government. That was his movie “Sicko”. In Germany, working people have affordable housing in lavish housing complexes. That is because they have real union protections.

(f) Bernie Sanders’ campaign has opened up discussion of the merits of socialism. Under socialism, the profit motive is taken out of the business of weapons manufacturing. Without the profit motive, war-making pretty much stops, and we have world peace.

(g) I used to have discussions with my friend in New York City about what is the proper definition of socialism. As far as I last knew, it is the “Public ownership of the means of production.” This means that the public owns the public utilities such as gas and electricity, the companies that manufacture weapons for the military (which is all much smaller scale as compared with what we have now).

(h) Countries like Holland, Sweden, Denmark, France and most other countries on earth, have accepted socialism as the normal way of life.

(i) Under socialism, government officials are forbidden to accept campaign contributions from private people or corporations. Breaking this rule incurs severe penalties. In the U. S. this practice is accepted as normal practice. As a result, actual democracy is pretty much killed off.

(j) So Blue Skies reminds me of the socialist future we can all expect. It will be peaceful and devoid of financial worries, with universal health care.

(k) Socialism will come when the people face death by starvation at the all too predictable downturn of the business cycle. When that happens, 99% of jobs disappear. There will be no way to survive. When it’s death or socialism, people choose socialism.

(l) Back in 1840 in France, socialism was all the rage. The poet Victor Hugo believed the poet is also a prophet. In that spirit Victor wrote several prophetic poems, “The End of Hatred,” “The End of Hunger,” “The End of War,” and “The Triumph of Socialism”.

(m) Blue skies Smiling at me Nothing but blue skies Do I see

(n) Bluebirds Singing a song Nothing but bluebirds All day long

(o) Never saw the sun shining so bright Never saw things going so right Noticing the days hurrying by When you’re in love, my how they fly

(p) Blue days All of them gone Nothing but blue skies From now on

(q) (Scat)

(r) I never saw the sun shining so bright Never saw things going so right Noticing the days hurrying by When you’re in love, my how they fly

(s) Blue days All of them gone Nothing but blue skies From now on

(t) Songwriters (u) 13 Songs With Deeper Meaning Than You Think Hlntv.com

(v) (w) The Most Frequently Played Song in the World is One We All Hate Mentalfloss.com

© 17 May 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.